There are experiences that change you quietly — and then there are the ones that hit you all at once. For me, being an ESC volunteer at a Youth Center in Bucharest was the second kind.
I was nineteen. I thought I had a rough idea of what volunteering meant. What I found was one of the most challenging, humbling, and transformative chapters of my life — one I would not trade for anything.
"I came to help young people grow. I left having grown the most myself."
What it means to really show up
The European Solidarity Corps is built on a simple but powerful idea: that young people, given the chance to serve their communities across borders, come back different. Better. More connected. I can now say from experience that this is true — but it doesn't happen automatically. It takes work, discomfort, and a willingness to be changed. Working at a Youth Center in Bucharest meant being present every day for young people who needed support, energy, and someone willing to listen. It meant adapting constantly — to different personalities, different needs, different situations. Some days were seamless. Others were genuinely hard. All of them mattered.
Worlds colliding — in the best way
One of the most profound aspects of this experience was working alongside Ukrainian people — colleagues and community members who had crossed borders carrying stories far heavier than anything I had faced. Being in their presence, working side by side with them, reframed everything. It reminded me that solidarity is not a concept — it is a daily practice. It is showing up, listening, and refusing to look away.
A wider sense of belonging
The European Week and Europe Day celebration projects brought another dimension to the work entirely. Surrounded by people from across the continent — each arriving with their own language, culture, and perspective — I began to understand what European unity actually feels like when it is lived rather than read about in a textbook. These weren't abstract political values. They were the conversations happening at the table beside me, every single day.
And then there was the Georgian language class. I signed up out of curiosity more than anything else. What I found was one of the most beautiful and ancient writing systems in the world — and a reminder that the world is far larger, and far richer, than any of us can imagine from where we start.
Every word I learned felt like a small door opening onto something new.
"Curiosity turned out to be the best skill I brought — and the one I left with most strengthened."
What it all added up to
At nineteen, it is easy to feel like the world is something that happens to other people — to older, more experienced, more prepared people. This volunteering year at the Youth Center dismantled that idea completely. I was not a bystander to something meaningful. I was part of it. I helped build it, day by day, alongside people who had traveled far and people who called Bucharest home.
The ESC gave me something no classroom could: the chance to be useful, to be challenged, and to discover — through genuine contact with people different from myself — who I actually am and what I actually stand for. That is something I will carry with me for the rest of my life.