Reflecting on Cohort 15 with SDP Fellow Navi Dhaliwal

When we began our journey as SDP Fellows, we were asked to share a surprising fact about ourselves. While my background is in economics, one fact that often surprises people about me is that I majored in Asian Studies in college. 

My grandfather was born when India was still colonized by the British Empire. He never had the opportunity to learn to read or write, and, ironically, he never could speak English. My father never finished school, working to send remittances home instead. My mother was a first-generation college student, at the very same community college where I now work. And me – I chose to major in Asian Studies because I wanted to learn my grandfather’s language, so I could finally speak with him, to hear his story in his own words. I never thought of myself as a data person. But I was someone trying to preserve a memory. To keep a record. To ensure that all the knowledge and wisdom and laughter and learning of this person who I so deeply cherished would not be forgotten. And I know from our time together that this type of experience isn’t unique to me – we all have deeply personal reasons for the work we do, but the humanity of the people we serve is at our center. 

This fellowship reminded us that we are all recordkeepers. It also reminded us that data, handled with care, is not just numbers. Data is memory’s safeguard against forgetting. And in a time when history is being unwritten and records are being erased, we cannot be afraid of letting data speak its truth, however painful, however difficult. We have learned its language. We must tell its story. 

Data is messy, because so are the lives of the people it reflects. Data is complicated, because so is the history that it records. Data challenges us, humbles us, and forces us to confront our own assumptions. It asks us to be learners again. To see with a beginner’s mind. To ask better questions.

And when data unsettles our deeply held beliefs, it can be uncomfortable. Taking in new information requires vulnerability. Moving on from past paradigms can feel like grief. And supporting one another through change requires grace. But if we truly believe education can transform lives, we must also believe it can continue to transform us. We are not static. And we must not be silent. As Strategic Data Project Fellows and now alumni, our voices carry the stories and perspectives of a larger sample, of all those whose data and memories we safeguard. We are their recordkeepers, and we must listen to all that they have to tell us.

As we celebrate our graduation, let us reminisce on our own journey together. From orientation, when we were asked to be capacious, curious, open to new ways of thinking, and willing to pour into our own vessels. From our convenings – Just Numbers, where we wrestled with questions of equity – to Now What?, when the ground felt uncertain beneath us, as it still does for so many. From Fellow Fridays, where we opened up the deeper stories that shaped us. And from everything outside and in between – children born, jobs lost, supervisors changed. Life didn’t pause, and yet through it all, we carried one another.

I am eternally grateful to the SDP staff, our mentors and colleagues, and to our cohort, for uplifting one another and allowing ourselves space to grapple with new, difficult ideas without judgment. I have learned so much from this network, been awed by their talent, inspired by their actions, and – most of all – overjoyed to befriend so many humble, kind, and purpose-driven people. I never thought of myself as a data person. But, after being part of Cohort 15, there’s no kind of person I’d rather be.