We like to believe our views are the product of independent thought. In reality, they are often shaped by the environments we grow up in and the people we surround ourselves with. Our assumptions, biases, and even our sense of truth are influenced long before we begin to question them.

That questioning rarely happens without distance. It is only when we step outside familiar surroundings – when we encounter different people and perspectives – that we begin to see more clearly. Not only who we are, but how we became that way.

That moment of distance creates clarity. And clarity creates the possibility for change.

A Different View Changes Everything

Astronauts who have seen Earth from space often speak about a profound shift in perspective. Looking down at our planet, they don’t see borders, divisions, or conflicts. They see a fragile, beautiful blue world, shared by all of us.

As one reflection from the Artemis astronauts captures:

“What we really hope is that we could, for just a moment, have the world pause and remember that this is a beautiful planet in a very special place – and that we should cherish what we’ve been given.”

Photo: NASA

They are human beings, just like us. Yet what they saw changed how they felt – filling them with awe, gratitude, and responsibility.

Now imagine if those driving conflict, violence, and division could see that same view.

Would they still justify destruction? Would they still dehumanize others so easily?

You Don’t Need to Go to Space

Not everyone can leave Earth to gain that perspective. But the truth is – we don’t need to.

We can change our perspective by changing our environment.
By stepping outside our comfort zones.
By engaging with people we don’t know, don’t understand, or even disagree with.

Because it is in those unfamiliar spaces that empathy begins to grow.

The World We Create

The world we build through hate, violence, and dehumanization does not end with us.
It continues.

It becomes a cycle – one that produces more pain, more division, more destruction.
And one day, the next generation will inherit that world and ask:
Why did they choose this?

History has shown us that those who try to dominate through hate eventually fade.
But the scars they leave behind – on people, on communities, on humanity – remain.

Photo: NASA

A Shared Responsibility

At the same moment astronauts captured images of Earth’s breathtaking beauty, others were turning parts of that same planet into places of suffering and darkness.

That contrast is not just tragic – it is a choice. Because no one owns this planet. We all belong here. 

We all have the same right to exist, to live with dignity, and to be seen as human.

A Different Choice

What if we chose differently?

What if we chose to see one another as human first?
To respect, to listen, to understand – even when it’s difficult?

The Earth is vast.
It has enough to meet every person’s need,
but not enough to satisfy unchecked greed.

We have been given something extraordinary:
a shared home, full of possibility.

The Invitation

We don’t need rockets to change the world.
We need reflection.
We need courage.
We need empathy.

Step outside your environment.
Meet someone different.
Listen to a story that challenges your own.

Because when we change what we see,
we change how we feel.
And when we change how we feel,
we change what we do.

Photo: NASA

The Future Is Ours to Shape

We have the power to keep this world beautiful –
not just for ourselves, but for those who come after us.

So let’s choose wisely.
Let’s choose empathy over hate.
Understanding over division.
Humanity over everything else.

Because this planet was never meant to be divided by us –
it was meant to be shared.

~ Rais Bhuiyan, Founder, World Without Hate

Photo: NASA

My little nephew, Yusuf, is a third-grader. Every day after school, I ask him about his day—who he played with, the games they enjoyed, or what activities they did in class. I don’t just ask; I genuinely engage, showing interest in his little world. At first, Yusuf was a bit shy and reserved, but with time and patience, he began to open. Now, he excitedly shares his stories, and I’ve even memorized all his friends’ names.

One day, during one of our chats, Yusuf mentioned a classmate, Dave, who often misses school. When I asked why, he explained that Dave has to undergo medical treatments, which keeps him away from class for days at a time. Hearing this, I couldn’t help but think about how hard it must be for Dave — not just the physical toll of treatment but also the emotional weight of missing out on friendships and the normalcy of school life.

I gently explained to Yusuf how difficult it must be for Dave to go through this and encouraged him to show kindness. “The next time Dave is in class,” I said, “make an effort to say hello. Ask how he’s doing and let him know you’re happy to see him.” Yusuf nodded and promised he would.

From that day on, our conversations often revolved around Dave. Yusuf would tell me whether Dave had been in class and if he had remembered to say hello. One evening, Yusuf shared something that truly touched me. With a wide smile, he said, “Today, I didn’t see Dave at first, but then he came up to me, said hello, and asked how I was doing!” I could feel Yusuf’s joy through his words.

I smiled and asked, “Why did that make you so happy?”

Yusuf thought for a moment before replying, “I didn’t expect Dave to say hello to me. I got used to checking on him and didn’t think about how it would feel if he did the same. But when he did, it made me feel really good!”

In that moment, I realized how much this small act of kindness had shaped Yusuf, and Dave as well. A simple habit of reaching out had not only brought joy to Dave but had also helped Yusuf experience the warmth of empathy. Their little exchange was a powerful reminder of the impact of compassion, no matter how small the gesture.

Children are like mirrors, reflecting what they see and learn, especially at home —their first learning institution. If we teach them compassion, empathy, and generosity, they will carry those values into the world, creating ripples of goodness wherever they go.

Home is the foundation where these lessons begin. When kindness starts there, schools—their second learning institution—can build on that foundation, focusing on education while supporting children’s emotional and social growth.

This story isn’t just about Yusuf and Dave; it’s about the ripple effect of compassion. It’s also a reminder for us, as adults, to model these qualities in our everyday lives—at home, at work, and in public. Our actions are the foundation of what our children absorb. When we nurture kindness in our homes, schools can focus on education rather than addressing issues that stem from a lack of emotional grounding. Together, these two institutions can shape children into compassionate, empathetic, understanding, and kind-hearted human beings.

It’s a call for us, as adults, to model the values we want to see in the next generation. The world becomes kinder, one act of empathy at a time—and it starts with us, at home.

~ Rais Bhuiyan, Founder, World Without Hate

Today is World Refugee Day. Right now, there are 43.4 million refugees around the world, a figure that could double in the next decade, according to the head of UNHCR.

Refugees are human beings. Individuals who’ve fled their countries to escape violence, persecution, war, ethnic cleansing, and genocide, seeking safety and security in another nation. According to the UNHCR, at least 117.3 million people around the world have been forced to flee their homes. Of the nearly 43.4 million current refugees, around 40% are under the age of 18. There are also millions of stateless people who have been denied a nationality and lack access to basic rights such as education, health care, employment, and freedom of movement.

Throughout my life’s journey, I have met many refugees— children, young adults, and the elderly—in places like Germany, Italy, the USA, and Bangladesh. Their stories are both harrowing and inspiring.

In Bangladesh, I met children at the largest refugee camp in the world. These individuals traveled day and night to cross the border, constantly fearing the Myanmar military’s violence. In Germany, I encountered children from Syria, Iraq, and African countries who once dreamt of becoming doctors and engineers like their parents or loved ones, their dreams overshadowed by an uncertain future. A young adult from Afghanistan, whom I met in Germany, shared that he was born in war, never knowing a single day without bloodshed and death. Despite this, having secured refugee status in Germany and learning the language, he was hopeful about attending medical school and serving humanity.

Through my visits to refugee camps and my conversations with refugees, it became clear that no one wants to be a refugee. Everyone I spoke with longed to return to home, where they had a life and beautiful memories. They do not wish to be looked down upon simply because they were forced to flee. Like all of us, they simply want to live. During a visit to a facility in Germany, I met university students, doctors, lawyers, and pharmacists who spend their evenings teaching refugees the German language. When I asked why they were doing this despite their demanding schedules, they responded, “We don’t want to be defined by our previous generations’ mistakes, but rather by what we’re doing for humanity.” This response deeply moved me. These young German students are paving the way for a world built upon empathy, dignity, and humanity, offering valuable lessons for all of us.

Especially relevant are the countries that export arms and import refugees. These nations need to stop their war-driven economies, which produce refugees abroad while fostering hate and intolerance against them at home. When I asked Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh what they wanted most, they overwhelmingly told me they wanted to go home. War is a business of the rich and powerful, keeping poor and weak nations in perpetual conflict, supporting dictators and brutal regimes and allowing them to persecute their people. If these leaders and arms manufacturers considered that they feed their children at the expense of other children’s lives, their luxurious lifestyles earned by the death and destruction of innocent people, perhaps they would act more humanely.

On this World Refugee Day, let us commit to building a world where empathy, understanding, and peace prevail over conflict, violence, and persecution. Together, we can create a future where no one is forced to flee their home, and everyone can live with dignity and hope.

Honorable Members of Congress,

I write this with a heavy heart, burdened by the weight of our nation’s continual mass shootings. Horrific events like the Rob Elementary School massacre in Uvalde, TX – now more than a year ago –seem to have become a normal part of American life. Mass shootings in the U.S. are on record pace for 2023. Roughly every week a community in our country faces this kind of deadly violence, just the other day in Chicago. In the aftermath at Sandy Hook Elementary School, over a decade ago, the entire nation cried out for help. Instead of valuing human life with meaningful reform, you shared hollow prayers and empty condolences. You, the very people who are elected to protect us. 

Your prayers didn’t stop the murderers from purchasing weapons of war, nor have they stemmed the tide of violence that continues to claim innocent lives. From Sandy Hook to Buffalo to Charleston and far too many more, lives are forever lost. It is time for you, our elected to transcend partisan politics, money, and power to keep safe those you took an oath to protect. It is time for action.

It is simply unfathomable to me that anyone would play politics with human life. For the thousands who have been silenced by mass shootings, and the 352,000+ children who have experienced gun violence in school since Columbine, we must rise above impasses and strive for a society where our children, loved ones, and fellow citizens are shielded from harm.

In the days following the tragic, yet entirely preventable, Uvalde massacre, I visited the site to pay my respects. The air was heavy with grief, a profound pain weighed on my chest, and tears filled the eyes of everyone silently passing by. I witnessed children, some no older than six or seven, offering flowers as a token of love and respect for their fallen peers. As I sat on the ground, paralyzed with sorrow, I was once again transported to the moments when I lay on a cold, concrete floor, my own blood pooling beneath me, having been shot in the face by a white supremacist in the aftermath of 9/11. I could not comprehend the thoughts that must have consumed those little angels during these similar, terrifying moments of life and death. Did they cry out for their mothers as I did? How can those who claim to be civilized allow such barbaric and senseless killings to occur — and repeatedly? How can our elected officials, those who possess the power to halt this madness, turn a blind eye to their fellow human beings, their own children, loved ones, and even the God they proclaim to pray to when these catastrophic events occur?

Honorable members of Congress, the time for change is now. Even as a survivor of gun violence, I’m not against responsible gun ownership, but it is crucial to acknowledge that citizens of a civilized society do not require weapons of war. The responsibility lies with you to rise above partisan divides and act in the best interest of the people you were elected to serve. There is no excuse. The cries for sensible gun reform and the demand for measures that protect the lives of our children and citizens cannot be silenced any longer. We implore you to let your actions speak louder than your prayers. Demonstrate the courage and resolve necessary to enact meaningful change. Do not let the legacy of Sandy Hook, Uvalde, Buffalo, Nashville, Allen, and countless other tragedies only be inaction and empty condolences.

As someone who knows what it feels like to be on the receiving end of a bullet, I implore you to find the strength to lead with empathy, integrity, and a commitment to the welfare of all Americans, to human life.

With sincere hope,

Rais Bhuiyan, Survivor & Founder, World Without Hate

World Without Hate’s documentary Pain and Peace, in post-production, captures stories from survivors and former perpetrators of hate-fueled violence, an antidote to divisive forces and toxic messaging.