On the Road to Rising: From Self-Empowerment to Community Empowerment
Reflections on Research, Resilience, Connection, Belonging, and the Fight for Opportunity.
“Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.” - Confucius
Dear qualitative Inquisitors,
I hope you had a fantastic summer!
In my last newsletter, I shared the beginnings of an academic endeavor I launched this summer—something that is truly meaningful and important to me, beyond the self.
In this edition, I want to take a moment to share some news and update you on the progress so far.
There’s something truly affirming about seeing a seed of an idea take root. Even if it is just beginning to sprout. What started as a gentle vision—a sincere hope, really—has begun to emerge in ways that make the planning, the courage, the hard work, and the vulnerability of putting myself out there feel worthwhile.
I am sure you have been there before, too.
Putting myself out there means empowering myself, which also means finding my way to a conference that is so central to my identity as an academic.
And yes, thanks to support from loved ones and community… I made it!
It wasn’t just a milestone; it was a moment, in so many ways, that reminded me why I started this journey in the first place. And the entire experience felt both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time!
In the featured photo above, I’m presenting at the Political Networks and Political Science Computational Social Science (PolNet+PaCSS) conference, held across Harvard and Northeastern University in Cambridge and Boston (August 11-14, 2025).
My research poster showcased one of the most critical cases that emerged from my doctoral fieldwork in Pakistan—a case that has stayed with me over the years because of the depth it revealed and what I personally witnessed in the field.
As I stood there sharing my work, I couldn’t help but recall the words of one of my fieldwork informants back in 2018:
“Seeing is believing. You have to go to the field and see it for yourself.”
Those words have guided my research approach ever since—reminding me that behind every dataset, every diagram, and every policy discussion are real people, real communities, and real stories that deserve to be seen and understood.
That statement has stayed with me for many years, along with countless others from the more than 100 interviews I conducted in Pakistan. It was advice shared by a member of the Rural Support Programmes Network (RSPN) when I asked about impact.
They spoke passionately about the incredible work of its sister organizations, including the Sindh Rural Support Organization (SRSO)—work that was transforming lives in ways that numbers alone could never fully capture.
Their words came to life during my fieldwork, as I traveled to regions I never even knew existed—remote, rural spaces where resilience and hope thrived. I witnessed women stepping into leadership roles, speaking with a mind-blowing level of confidence, and communities boldly reclaiming power from the bottom up.
These experiences not only redirected my dissertation but also my understanding of what true, community-driven change looks like.
Presenting on this case—just one of the eight that emerged from my doctoral research—at the Political Networks and PaCSS Conference was truly an honor. And what made it even more special was a beautiful coincidence: my presentation, focused on Pakistan, happened to be scheduled in the Eastern Standard Time slot that aligned with Pakistan’s Independence Day.
It felt like the universe’s way of reminding me how truly interconnected this work is with my own roots and identity.
My work examines the Rural Support Programmes Network (RSPN), one of South Asia’s most renowned models of community-driven development, and asks a central question: to what extent do these networks truly empower communities—and to what extent do they inadvertently reproduce the very hierarchies they aim to dismantle?
What I’ve found is a familiar paradox.
On one hand, RSPN has elevated rural women’s voices, expanded their financial independence, and cultivated local cohesion in ways that were unthinkable just a generation ago. On the other hand, entrenched patriarchy, elite capture, and donor-driven agendas often recentralize power at the top, limiting the depth and durability of that empowerment.
Yet despite these tensions, RSPN has become an enduring grassroots movement in Pakistan—especially for women—creating pathways for leadership, dignity, and agency that continue to ripple through communities. And these lessons don’t stop at Pakistan’s borders.
They resonate across other fragile states grappling with questions of localization, gendered governance, sustainability, and decolonization—questions that feel more urgent than ever in today’s global landscape.
"The beautiful thing about learning is nobody can take it away from you." - B.B. King
Coming Full Circle: From First Steps to Rising Beyond the Margins
Eight years ago, I attended my very first PolNet conference. In the photo below from that time, I am presenting my network evaluation of a World Bank program in Pakistan—a project that, through snowball sampling, eventually led me to a more organic, community-driven development (CDD) approach: the Rural Support Programmes (RSPs). That connection would nurture not only my doctoral research but also my understanding of what real, localized impact looks like.
This month, returning to PolNet felt different. I brought with me not just new research, but a deep sense of responsibility—to tell the story of the RSPs, to honor the voices of the communities I learned from, and to continue my own journey to “rise beyond the margins.”
I presented with a keffiyeh draped over my shoulders—a symbol that has become universal in its representation of solidarity, resistance, and belonging. For me, wearing it is also a reminder that scholarship can never, and should never, be divorced from justice.
It was also the first time I presented my life’s work at an academic conference as a Hijabi—fully embracing the identity in my soul as a Muslim woman scholar.
I know some may not fully grasp the significance of this transformation, but after embracing a slightly different identity for nearly two decades in higher education, this moment felt profoundly personal and emotional. It was a milestone I will always cherish.
As I continue this journey, I take with me the lessons of those who trusted me with their stories. Their wisdom grounds me, reminding me that true development is, and must always be, about dignity, agency, community, and the power of indigenous voices.
As I drove to and from Boston and Cambridge, my mind kept drifting back to my uncertain journey through Northern Interior Sindh in February 2019. Flights had been canceled due to the usual political tensions between India and Pakistan, and I had no choice but to take the long road back to Karachi by bus.
It was my first time on a bus in Pakistan—a 9.5-hour ride from Sukkur to Karachi with multiple army checkpoints along the way. The bus was full of men, except for me and one Muslim sister in full burkha quietly reading the Quran the entire time. Her presence made me feel safe.
That same sense of uncertainty crept in during the week of this conference, as I navigated a drive I had never made before. And yet, both journeys reminded me of what I’ve shared in past editions of Qi: stories are data too—and they are powerful.
Standing there years later, with my poster at the very same conference, at a university I never imagined visiting, I was also reminded that our journeys are never linear. They twist, stall, and sometimes they surprise us. Somehow, they lead us exactly where we need to be.
Our journeys are marked by uncertainty, resilience, and humility.
There are plenty of reasons to feel angry, sad, or frustrated about where those journeys take us—or how often the world tries to remind us of the margins we inhabit.
But whenever I find myself angry with the world, my scholarship humbles me. It grounds me.
It reminds me that no one—not systems, not institutions, not people—can ever take my education from me.
If you have never truly felt that quote from B.B. King…
“The beautiful thing about learning is that no one can take it away from you.”
…then you have not been a stranger to the privilege. A privilege that many of us have never been freely given but have fought for with everything we have.
Here is a YouTube Short sharing some relevant thoughts about this:
{I’ll be uploading a nine-minute reflection video from after the conference (which I filmed at Harvard University) on YouTube soon, continuing my ritual of sharing after each conference.}
When we advocate for ourselves, it isn’t to boast or to “toot our own horns.” It’s because we have earned a place in spaces that have too often told us we don’t belong.
We are not competing against one another—we are competing against systems that keep pushing us toward the margins simply because of who we are.
At its core, what we are fighting for is opportunity. I wrote about this a few months ago, quoting Viola Davis, and her words still deeply in my heart:
“The only thing that separates women of color from anyone else is opportunity.” – Viola Davis
In that same speech, Davis shared a quote from Harriet Tubman that has stayed with me—one that feels painstakingly relevant, especially in this season of my life:
“In my mind, I see a line. And over that line, I see green fields and lovely flowers and beautiful white women with their arms stretched out to me over that line, but I can’t seem to get there no-how. I can't seem to get over that line.” – Harriet Tubman
When I started this year with my Identity series, I couldn’t have predicted how those reflections would open the door to the opportunities I am stepping into now.
As I honor my true identity in these academic and public spaces, I know I have to stay resilient—for myself, for those rooting for me, for those counting on me, and for those who have trusted me with their voices. For those who have been silenced.
To stand in that truth means naming injustice when we see it. It means believing that another way is possible—that things can always be better. That peace is possible.
And when I needed it most, Allah (swt) handed me the oxygen mask, giving me the strength to return “home”—to myself, my purpose, to the power of my own voice.
As I continue to push back against my own invisibility and erasure, and to empower my voice alongside others who have been marginalized, I hold fast to this truth: among my many identities, I am a scholar.
And scholarship is never neutral; when it claims neutrality, it sides with the oppressors. I choose resilience. I choose to stand on the side of justice.
End-of-Summer Reflection Prompts
As we close out this summer season, I invite you to pause and reflect on your own journey:
In what ways did you empower yourself this summer?
How did you find ways to give back to your community?
What are your goals for the remainder of this year?
Or, if you follow the academic calendar like I do (even without being in school), what intentions do you want to set for this “new academic year”?
What challenges are you facing right now? And how are you choosing to meet that adversity with courage, patience, or action?
A Sincere Gratitude to My Donors
Once again, I am sincerely grateful to everyone who helped me get here—with a special thanks to the generous donors who supported my crowdfunding campaign. It was truly incredible to see a few of your donations come through right before I made the drive. Honestly, there were moments I didn’t think this trip would be possible. And it happened.
Your belief in me—your encouragement and support—empowered me to show up, to present, and to take this next step in my journey.
We must believe in people and take chances on people. And this experience reminded me that even the smallest act of support can take someone a very long way.
Whether or not this campaign ever reaches its full goal, it is already a huge success to me. I am proud of this research, and proud of what I have been learning and unlearning in this challenging but transformative journey.
Every struggle brings humility. And every opportunity gives us the courage to be braver for the next one.
As Dr. Brené Brown reminds us, vulnerability and courage are inseparable—and it is in that space where growth and connection happen.
"The willingness to show up changes us. It makes us a little braver each time.”
I believe in people. I believe in community, in social impact and change, in the power of never giving up, and in the strength of solidarity. I believe that empowering ourselves can become the foundation for empowering our communities—much like the message at the heart of the RSPs in Pakistan.
And one day, Inshallah, I hope to fulfill the promise I made to myself and to the community members across Pakistan: to return to the field, to sit once again with the women of village Hoti Noti in Khairpur, Sindh, and to accept their offer of a cup of chai.
We will share our stories—different yet interconnected, diverse yet bound by resilience and return.
For now, I continue my journey with the next incredible opportunity happening in just two weeks. If you feel moved to support—through a like, a share, a word of encouragement, or even a small donation—here’s the link:
GoFundMe: Rising Beyond the Margins – Empowering Inclusivity
Thank You for Being a Part of My Community
I titled this post “From Self-Empowerment to Community Empowerment” because it reflects not just the message of my research, but also the story of my life. Empowerment is rarely linear; it is interconnected, reciprocal, and entirely relational.
The ripple effect happens when one person’s courage and persistence spark something in someone else—reminding us that we can absolutely rise together.
I hope this message emphasizes our interdependence in academia and beyond. So many students and early-career researchers—especially those from marginalized backgrounds—struggle for opportunity because of systemic barriers like funding.
But there are ways to push back. I hope that by empowering myself, I can open doors for others and create a lasting impact, because we are all connected in this work.
So I ask, once again, for your support—knowing that I will, without a doubt, pay it forward. I am very passionate about the “pay it forward” concept. This fight for opportunity isn’t only about my journey; it’s about creating a compounding effect—one where every door that opens for me can help open doors for others who are walking similar paths.
My goal is to one day be in a position to support another scholar who, like me, is fighting to rise with an authentic voice in academic spaces that have long kept them at the margins.
I have the blueprint. I have the heart. I have the qualifications. I have the mindset. What I need now is the “opportunity”—and I believe with everything in me that my voice is needed in these spaces, that my contributions can help others RISE, too.
Thank you for reading this update, for walking alongside me, and for being part of this journey.
As we close out this summer, let us remember that “greatness” takes time. Success takes time. If we want to build something lasting—something that becomes our legacy—we have to trust and appreciate the process. Don’t rush. Be patient. Celebrate where you are, and look forward with hope to where you are going.
You don’t have to “win” right now. But don’t overlook the small victories—because those small wins are what take us toward the big ones.
Wishing you strength and courage as we step into this new academic year.
Cheers, and best wishes to us all,
With heart, solidarity, and peace,
Your sister, Dr. Elsa
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Please feel free to donate to my Educational Crowdfunding Campaign:
Rise Beyond the Margins: Empowering Inclusive Scholarship
In the photos above, you might have seen some paintings I brought with me to the conference. There was a good reason for that. But to learn more about my Painting Heals Initiative, you can read this article:
Blending Art, Education & Aid: Climate Philanthropy & Relief Efforts in Pakistan
Thinking of Pakistan during these trying times, as another deadly monsoon season brings devastating floods.
I am trying to revive this initiative as soon as I can get the funding, grants, or job opportunity. I appreciate the patience of previous donors. But I aim to send paintings to every donor of my current campaign (as a small token/gift of my sincere appreciation) and recent fundraisers after this critical APSA conference, hopefully before October!
Thank you for your support!
You can learn more about all my work here.
Feel free to subscribe here to my academic newsletter, “The Qualitative Inquisition (Qi),” for insights on all things qualitative in the social sciences.
You can also subscribe to my new creative atomic newsletter, “Sword Dispatch: The WkQ Letters,” for insights on intersectionality, mental health, identity and social justice issues, which includes curated content from my personal blog here.
If you find value in my writing and want to support independent scholars, writers, and artists, you can support my GoFundMe above or do so HERE.
Your support helps me continue writing, reflecting, painting, serving, and resisting! Thank you, I wish you well on your academic, writing, and artistic journey!
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Quote of the Summer
"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."
- Dr. Maya Angelou