In a moment of unexpected recognition, a TikTok video about my life garnered over a million views.

This video was shared by an account celebrated for highlighting inspirational figures in Indonesia. Alongside my profile, it featured my remarkable friends, such as Kak Celline Wijaya, who researches medicine at Harvard Medical School, and Fathia Fairuza, a Human Rights activist interning at the UN while pursuing her graduate studies at Columbia.

In October, it was my turn to be spotlighted. The video showcased me in my Harvard sweater, detailing my birth date and place, my parents' academic achievements, and my undergraduate degree. The post attracted over 600 comments, with the most popular one, receiving more than 5,000 likes, stating, "kebanyakan emang tergantung background orangtuanya sih," which translates to, “it’s mainly due to her parents.”

This comment suggests that my accomplishments stem from the advantages of having parents who valued education and pursued their advanced degrees abroad.

The thing is, the comments are not wrong.

If I were to attribute my success over the past 24 years, I would credit 90% of it to my parents.

I recognize my privilege in having two parents who prioritized my education, consistently encouraged my ambitions, and supported me through significant academic hurdles. Most importantly, I am grateful for a mother who shares my background and has shattered multiple barriers in the male-dominated engineering field—uncommon for someone of her generation.

To provide context, although my mother is among the 75% of Muslim women in Indonesia who wear hijab, placing her in the majority, she is also part of a small group of female engineers in leadership roles within the country.

In 2018, only 12% of graduates in STEM fields in Indonesia were women, and in 2019, the country had the lowest representation of women in management in the ASEAN region at 17.6%, trailing behind neighboring countries like Singapore and Malaysia. Barriers hindering Indonesian women primarily revolve around family responsibilities and discrimination stemming from patriarchal cultural norms.

During my twelve years in Indonesia, I encountered these challenges firsthand at the age of 16. While traveling to an academic decathlon with my male teacher, I excitedly shared my aspirations of studying in Japan and pursuing a PhD. His dismissive response was one I could never forget.

He said, “What’s the point, if you’re going to just end up in the kitchen?”

Had I not been raised by my supportive parents, I might have believed him. The influence of a teacher’s words can be profound, and that moment could have discouraged me and my peers, who were all ambitious young women. Fortunately, we were not selected to represent our school, which allowed us to confront him about his remarks.

Until high school, I was largely unaware of the disparities in how girls were treated compared to boys—not just in Indonesia, but globally. This oblivion stemmed from my home environment, where my parents treated my brothers and me equally. Despite their busy lives, they prioritized their roles as parents and educators, ensuring they were present to help us with homework and exam preparations, creating cherished memories.

Moreover, I witnessed my parents' healthy competition as fellow engineers in the heavy industry. They supported each other's ambitions and viewed one another as allies rather than rivals.

This upbringing instilled in me the belief that there is nothing a man can do that I cannot, and that men and women must uplift one another.

The most valuable lesson I learned is that women require role models who share similar experiences. Representation goes beyond merely seeing someone who resembles you on screen. There are many influential female leaders in Indonesia who inspire me, yet none have influenced my belief in my capabilities more than my mother, who shattered glass ceilings long before gender equality and women's empowerment became mainstream topics.

Even as I embarked on my journey at Harvard, I knew I wouldn't have had the courage to apply if I hadn’t seen fellow Indonesian hijabis studying there and sharing their experiences online, motivating me to pursue the same path.

This realization evoked a wave of empathy for women like me, who lack the role models that my mother has been for me. Consequently, I became a content creator to share my journey at Harvard. I documented the entire process—from applying and receiving my acceptance, to my arrival with my father, exam weeks, and ultimately, my graduation day.

My goal was to provide an authentic glimpse into my life as a student, aiming to achieve two objectives: first, to dismantle the mental barriers preventing many women from pursuing their dreams, and second, to show my brothers how invaluable their support can be.

While I can't judge the impact of my efforts, one thing is clear: my video titled “The Life of a Hijabi at Harvard” has amassed nearly 2 million views on YouTube, with a significant portion of viewers from Indonesia, Malaysia, India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Turkey, and more.

However, I recognize that this is merely a starting point. Despite my numerous posts, I am aware that many barriers still exist. Unlike Thanos, we cannot simply snap our fingers to resolve these issues, but we possess something he lacked: our humanity. This humanity allows us to empathize with others and forms the foundation for equality in society.

Empathy is the capacity to understand and share the feelings of others. It connects us as a community, fostering concern for one another and a drive for justice. A current example is the global support for a Free Palestine, where millions, despite not knowing anyone in Gaza, feel a strong urge to help because they empathize with their suffering. Without empathy, individuals may fail to recognize the struggles of others, leading to discrimination and human rights violations.

Empathy is vital for empowerment. My parents empathized with countless Indonesian women unable to pursue their dreams and ensured I received every opportunity to succeed.

But empathy is not always readily given.

A common question I receive is: how can I gain my parents' support to study abroad? My consistent advice is: understand their perspective and help them grasp why your dreams matter.

Parents naturally worry, especially when they are unfamiliar with the realities of student life abroad. It's essential to empathize with their concerns and identify what might be holding them back. If finances are a worry, research scholarships to alleviate that burden. If they are concerned about the environment, explore various student organizations and communities you could join.

By understanding your parents' concerns and addressing them, you can foster mutual empathy regarding your aspirations. While it may not lead to your original goal, you will likely find common ground that respects both parties' needs.

This is our strength: recognizing and responding to others' feelings, empowering one another in the process. The next step for all of us is to tap into this empathy and ask ourselves: How can my role and privilege uplift others? If I cannot empower others directly, how can I at least connect with their feelings to avoid causing unintentional harm?

For me, I will continue to share my experiences as an Indonesian hijabi, hoping to inspire others like me to make their mark in spaces they never thought possible. You will see me post snippets of my journey across various platforms, ensuring that my actions aim to empower others.

For you, your path will differ. However, by contemplating these questions and translating your answers into authentic actions, you will create a ripple effect akin to the one that has brought me here today.

Your empathy towards others today may cultivate empowered individuals tomorrow, and they will remember your impact, just as I will forever cherish my parents for the privilege of their nurturing and support in shaping who I am today.