Team Bertho

At fifteen years old, I looked around my community and saw something I couldn't ignore. Too many racialized young people had incredible potential but very few opportunities to be heard. As a young racialized woman, I often walked into rooms where people questioned whether I belonged, not because of my passion, but because of my age. I was told I lacked experience, that leadership would come later, and that I should wait my turn. But I believed that compassion, curiosity, and the courage to serve could be just as powerful as years of experience.

Instead of waiting for someone else to create opportunities for youth like me, I decided to build them myself. That decision led me to found Youth MentorNet Café, a nonprofit organization serving 150,000+ young people globally, creating culturally responsive mentorship, educational opportunities, leadership experiences, and safe spaces where young people could discover their potential and build academic confidence.

By the time I turned 20 years old, my journey had taken me to places I once only dreamed of reaching. I had been recognized in the Legislative Assembly of Saskatchewan, invited to the Parliament Hill to participate in Senate briefings, served on United Nations-affiliated youth advisory boards, met with parliamentarians to advocate for youth, been named a Top 30 Under 30 by the Alberta Council for Global Cooperation, received the Outstanding Youth Philanthropist Award from the Association of Fundraising Professionals, and traveled across countries to share stories that inspire young people to lead with purpose.

Yet, the greatest achievement has never been the awards or the recognition. It has been watching a student receive an acceptance letter to their dream university after believing higher education was out of reach. It has been seeing young people step into leadership roles they never imagined for themselves, discover their confidence, secure scholarships, launch community initiatives, and realize that their voice has the power to shape the future. Through Youth MentorNet Café, thousands of young people have gained the skills, mentorship, and opportunities to pursue dreams they once thought were impossible.

Looking back, I realize none of this happened because of one person. Every milestone has been made possible by a village; my family who believed in me, teachers who encouraged me, mentors who opened doors, volunteers who gave their time, and communities that chose to invest in young people. Change begins with connection, and connection begins with one person deciding to care.

My greatest takeaway is to not wait for change to happen, but to be the reason it happens. Every hour you volunteer, every young person you encourage, and every hand you extend to someone in need creates a ripple that travels farther than you may ever know. Because when we lift one another up today, we don't just change one life, we help shape the story of the next seven generations.

(Shiza Hirani, 21, Canada)

Growing up in Saudi Arabia, and then suddenly moving to Pakistan, I entered a world where every change came with a new expectation. At first, I thought adjustment meant becoming what everyone around me wanted me to be. But slowly, I realized that whenever I wanted to do something differently, even in small ways, I was told it was not okay. Not because it was wrong, but because it was unfamiliar.

This kept happening from one stage of life to another. What I wanted to study, how I wanted to work, the kind of spaces I wanted to enter, the confidence I wanted to carry, the choices I wanted to make for myself. There was always a version of “this is how it is done” waiting in front of me. But I kept questioning it. Sometimes quietly, sometimes with resistance, and sometimes by simply doing the thing anyway.

In many ways, I grew up changing the norms of the family and environment I was born into. I was not trying to rebel for the sake of it. I was trying to breathe in a life that felt honest to me.

That is what I finally understood: I do not have to confine myself to people’s definitions of what is right. Sometimes what is called “not okay” is only the beginning of a new path no one around you has imagined yet.

(Syeda Kashmala, 33, Pakistan)

I used to think that the more you learn about the world, the more cynical you become. As a youth activist, I can often be found immersed in conversations about inequality, violence, mental health, climate change, and systems that too often fail the people they're meant to serve. I've sat in government buildings, had intimate conversations that linger long after, and carried the weight of knowing that many problems are far bigger than any one person.

For a while, I thought growing up meant trading wonder for realism. But somewhere along the way, I realized that the people creating the most meaningful change weren't the ones who had stopped believing in possibility. They were the ones who kept asking questions. They noticed what others overlooked. They were willing to imagine a different future even when the evidence suggested otherwise.

When a friend asked about my future plans, I thought for a while, and finally landed on "wanting to maintain the curiosity of a toddler". I meant it. Children approach the world by asking "why?" hundreds of times a day. They paint before worrying whether they're talented enough. They see strangers as future friends. That mindset has become my compass. Curiosity helps me listen before assuming, create before criticizing, and approach every person and challenge with openness.

The older I get, the more responsibility comes with knowledge. Even so, I've learned that responsibility doesn't require losing wonder. In fact, I think wonder is what makes responsibility sustainable. It reminds me that behind every policy is a person, and behind every challenge is the possibility that someone curious enough might help change it.

(Isabella Wen, 18, Canada)