There are moments that still take my breath away when I think about my time at RMIT Vietnam, many conversations that transformed not just how I see my role as an educator, but who I am as a human being.
I remember the trembling hands, the eyes filled with tears held back for weeks, the courage it took for students to share their deepest struggles. Many students found their way to my office, each carrying their own unique burden, each trusting me with their most vulnerable moments. In those fragile spaces between despair and hope, something profound happened. Not just for them, but for me!
As I listened, really listened, to their stories, each one different yet connected by the universal thread of human struggle, I realised that everything I thought I knew about empathy, integrity and impact was just the beginning. These weren't just professional values printed on a mission statement; they were lifelines. They were the threads that could weave people back together when everything seemed broken.
Those conversations changed us all. Through the weeks and months that followed, as I watched these brave students slowly rebuild their strength, I understood something that no textbook could have taught me: the extraordinary power of simply showing up. Of being fully present. Of believing in someone when they can't believe in themselves.
These experiences became the heartbeat of everything I've done: supporting students who needed someone to see their potential; diving deep into research on mental health in schools because every statistic represents a real person struggling; and organizing Psychology Day and Bonding Day not just as an academic event but as a bridge connecting people together. Each person will then be a healing resource.
Dr Nguyen Ngoc Quynh Anh and other Psychology lecturers in one event at RMIT.
At RMIT, I've learnt that the most profound transformations often begin with the smallest gestures. A conversation that runs longer than scheduled because someone finally feels safe enough to share. An email sent at just the right moment with just the right words. The simple act of looking into someone's eyes and saying, ‘I see you. You matter. You’re not alone.’ I’ve also received countless small but meaningful acts of care from colleagues and students, like a piece of candy quietly slipped into my hand during a hectic day, a small cookie after class – ‘I baked it last night for you, teacher’ – a little penguin pin gifted with a playful ‘warning’ to wear it every day as a gentle reminder to slow down and take a break, or a shared piece of bread during a lunch-hour meeting in the office.
These moments, these sacred, ordinary moments, they don't just create ripples. They create waves of hope that crash into lives in ways I may never fully know. And in a world that can feel so rushed, being part of that wave of care and connection is not just meaningful work. That's the privilege of a lifetime.
We are human, we are fragile. We are human, we care for each other.
At RMIT Vietnam, I've learnt to care and I've learnt to receive care!
