This week was absolutely lovely. A few friends of mine (Loghan, Mehek, and Tracy) went to see the original Nosferatu (1922) with a LIVE ORCHESTRA. If that isn’t awesome, I don’t know what is. Orientation was super smooth—Britta is a sweetheart and was such a helpful guide for what to expect in Berlin. She showed us many notable points in the city, and I got to banter with her about German politics. Who knows? I may even get to meet some of her political connections.

I am currently working in a coworking space, and am waiting for my first one on one meeting with Frank (another department head.) For the next few weeks I will be devising, organizing, and executing my first engagement workshop. Stay tuned, I think it will be very interesting. I’ve made a few friends in my co-working space as well, and I think I may have been too hard on WeWork, co-working is quite fun. 

While orientation was great, the highlight has been getting to know my program members. We’ve already started hanging out and making plans for little getaways (which is funny considering we’re already “away”). Of course there are late nights, and yes, walking like a European is tiring, but there’s genuinely nothing to complain about—even if I tried. Feierabendbier, work-friends, and Pitt friends—I love it here.

I’m working at an NGO, a non-governmental organization. In public outreach and support, NGOs serve as symbiotic and peripheral elements in the larger field of social change. Because they’re independent, NGOs are exceptionally adaptable to quick social movements and wider developments, and they’re usually small. Their main roles are to influence, educate, or support the public. This can take many forms, but notably, NGOs struggle to gain funding and public support without being directly partisan. In that sense, they function like a “political” charity of sorts, and often do.

In the “industry of social change” (which sounds dystopian itself), being a quality communicator is essential. Without effective communication, messaging gets lost immediately and can quickly deteriorate the entire organization. Good communication can make or break NGOs, especially when their messaging isn’t tied to party ideals. This brings up an interesting aspect of NGO marketing: aligning with party ideals has nuanced effects. While it means less effort communicating policy ideals (since the party already does that), NGOs then have to emphasize where they differ or what unique value they offer.

Alongside communication and networking, NGOs need strong connections to keep projects moving. Typically, NGOs rely on many volunteers who have jobs outside the organization. This removes salary costs from the budget and strengthens the NGO through external networks. Ironically, while government connections are important for NGOs, local community ties are equally vital. These constituents are the people the organization serves. Even in the hustle of self-driven progress, it’s essential to keep them in mind. They didn’t vote for us to help them, but it’s our duty to inspire political engagement. By involving local populations, NGOs strengthen democracy and maximize the value of political discussions.

NGOs in Germany function similarly to those in the U.S., though one key difference is what counts as “effective” communication. On my first orientation day, I complimented my boss on being “exceptionally clear with directions,” and he replied, “Information should be clear.” In the U.S., we tend to beat around the bush—this passive-aggressive style drives me insane. Here, Germans prioritize detail and objectivity in professional settings. I don’t know enough about personal lives yet, but the work environment has been nothing but efficient, clear, fair, and inclusive.

Another feature of NGOs (and charitable orgs—the only ones I can speak on) is the self-directed work structure. I decide what my workday looks like. Of course, there are projects and expectations, but I have the freedom to choose the timeframe, approach, and location. A workday could be two hours or sixteen—it depends on my efficiency. Case in point: I’m writing this in a hammock in a garden by a river (which apparently smells worse as summer heats up, but it’s refreshing for now). This kind of autonomy is rare in U.S. workplaces, where corporate culture often restricts it. Most American work revolves around team coordination. “Divide and conquer” seems uniquely valued here, and I’m loving every second of it.

My time in Berlin has been brief, so I hesitate to make sweeping claims about German work culture. However, I can’t ignore the stark contrast with what I’ve witnessed in American corporate environments. The forced “togetherness” initiatives at my mother’s company seem exhausting, and my friends in finance share similarly draining experiences. While these are just personal anecdotes, most casual conversations I’ve had with others in the field align with this troubling pattern.

There’s something fundamentally restrictive about how we suppress individuality and personality in American workplaces. Work should adapt to people’s unique strengths and predispositions—not the other way around. To do otherwise isn’t just inefficient; it’s an active limitation on human potential. This realization makes me all the more grateful to be learning from Berlin’s alternative approach.