What Drives Rural Economic Participation, my reflections from Rwanda

Lately, my writing has taken on a formal tone, likely an echo of two intense years in graduate school, where I delved deeply into economic models, trade dynamics, and the ripple effects of global affairs on developmental outcomes. Georgetown pushed me to ground every opinion in facts and rigorous research, fueling my passion for evidence-based strategies. I studied high-impact poverty alleviation programs and learned how well-intentioned funding, like building schools without investing in teacher quality or WASH standards, can miss the mark. I’m emerging from this chapter with a sharpened, critical eye toward development, foreign aid, and a broader lens on the world.

Attending the School of Foreign Service was a transformational experience, one I struggle to capture in words. I studied alongside some of the brightest minds while walking past the White House, the Capitol, and UN buildings in my daily errands – I felt the pulse of global impact and never took the opportunity for granted.

One of the most personal parts of my studies came last fall, when I was deep into my specialization in humanitarian crises and migration. As the conflict in the Middle East escalated in October 2023, the global headlines felt especially close. On campus, emotions were raw, protests unfolded, conversations grew more charged, and the weight of the moment was impossible to ignore. I found myself turning to the classroom and beyond, seeking insight from scholars across Georgetown’s diverse academic landscape, from the Center for Arab Studies to the Center for Jewish Civilization. That part of my learning journey was complex, emotional, and ongoing, and it’s something I’ll reflect on more fully in a separate post. For now, I’ll shift gears and share about wrapping up my degree and the recent experience that took me to Rwanda.

One of the things I appreciated most about Georgetown’s Global Human Development program was its emphasis on action over theory. Instead of writing a traditional thesis, students partner with real-world organizations, ranging from multilaterals to NGOs and private companies, for hands-on, pro bono consulting projects. I’ve written previously about my experiences with IFAD and my time in Sri Lanka during graduate school, but my recent work in Rwanda, through our capstone project, stands out as a highlight.

From a pool of hundreds of potential partners, my teammate Josie and I were immediately drawn to Spark Microgrants. Their model, low-cost, high-impact, and rooted in community-led economic development, aligned closely with what I’ve seen work in rural Panama and Nepal. Spark supports local communities with structured business education and a modest investment, empowering them to launch and sustain their own enterprises. The proof is in the outcomes: over 800 projects launched, with 85% still thriving two years after Spark steps back. It is the kind of model that makes you believe in the power of trust, tools, and local knowledge and leadership.

Here’s how Spark’s model works: they collaborate with a community to form a volunteer business team. In areas generally relying on agriculture or remittances, members meet weekly with Spark mentors through a two-year milestone-driven program. From beekeeping and honey production to goat-rearing, each project is tailored to community needs and aspirations.

So, where did Josie and I come into the picture? Spark was exploring the motivations behind community leadership. Why do people, often with limited time and financial resources, step up to lead economic development projects for little or no compensation? What drives their participation? And more specifically, what barriers do women face due to cultural, social, and economic pressures? And for those who do step into leadership, what allows them to overcome those barriers?

We were lucky to join the project just as it was beginning. That meant we were deeply involved in shaping it: conducting a literature review on rural motivation, designing the survey and focus group protocols from scratch, and drawing on everything from our coursework to our pre-grad work experiences. We developed a 60-question survey to be translated into three languages and deployed it across Rwanda, Malawi, and Uganda.

But we didn’t want to stop at survey design. We were determined to spend time in the communities ourselves. Before grad school, I had already come to believe that development work and policymaking should never happen at a distance. So, in late February, Josie and I boarded flights to Rwanda to train enumerators, conduct focus groups, and understand the project on the ground.

While I’ve spent years working and traveling through Asia, my exposure to Africa was limited to a single trip to Morocco in 2017. I went to Rwanda with an open mind and heart and over nine days, traveled from the border of the DRC to more remote eastern regions. And like many, I was struck by the cleanliness of the country —the bike paths, the ban on plastic, and the women in blue and yellow jackets sweeping every few meters. Even in rural areas, we saw those same women cleaning dirt roads in the hills.

In many ways, the rural landscape reminded me of Nepal: terraced hillsides, mud-thatch homes, and mothers carrying babies tied to their backs. But something that surprised me was the sheer presence of government infrastructure—speed cameras in remote villages, police checkpoints, and strict law enforcement. It was clear that Rwanda was growing fast. Large companies are setting up offices, and the president has stated that Rwanda aims to be a high-income country by 2050.

While I believe deeply in democracy, I found myself reflecting on governance models, wondering whether a strong, centralized system, when effective, might offer short-term stability and growth for post-conflict countries, as outlined further in this article. Does an effective autocracy serve as a stepping stone toward a functional democracy after turmoil in a nation? These are complex questions I don’t claim to have answers to—but my time in Rwanda left me wanting to explore them further.

So, back to our research: below are some photos of Josie and me conducting focus groups. Some sessions were women-only to foster psychological safety and openness about gender-specific challenges; others were mixed-gender to compare how narratives shifted in group dynamics. We also helped participants download and complete the survey in local languages, guiding them through each question and understanding where we needed to refine the survey instructions.

When we returned to the U.S., data began rolling in from the enumerators. We jumped into analysis, building regression models to identify statistically significant trends in motivation. One core finding stood out across contexts: recognition matters. People want to be seen for their contributions…a universal truth.

We also found that education and opportunity fuel motivation. Creating clear educational and vocational pathways in rural communities supports self-determination. For many, especially women, participating in leadership roles fostered empowerment and, for men, a sense of respect, often translating to broader leadership roles within the village.

Programmatically, we identified ways Spark could strengthen participant engagement and staff support. But the most compelling insight for me was this: community and family support, especially from spouses, is a major determinant of women’s ability to step into leadership. If a husband encourages rather than questions his wife’s involvement, the outcomes shift dramatically.

Educating men (e.g., partners, brothers, fathers) on the social and economic benefits of women’s leadership has the power to transform communities. When women lead, everyone benefits. The pie grows. And when communities internalize that truth, we don’t just see women thrive, we see entire regions begin to rise.

I wrapped up my capstone and Master’s program in May, bringing to a close one of the most meaningful chapters of my life so far. None of it would’ve been possible without the outstanding people who have supported me along the way. I’m especially grateful to the professors who shaped my thinking—Dr. Ekin Birol, Dr. Steven Radelet, and Dr. Erwin Tiongson—each of whom left a lasting imprint on how I see development and the world. I’m deeply grateful to my parents and siblings for their unwavering support through every step of this journey. And to my partner, James—thank you for standing by me with such steady love, for always encouraging me to grow, to question, and to stay curious about the world, even when that means navigating time apart.

As I ride out the unpredictability of the current job market for my field, I’m en route to Ecuador to spend the next month on a regenerative agriculture farm. While I’ve now worked in food systems and rural livelihoods for years, I’ve felt a gap in my technical knowledge, and now feels like the right moment to fill it. The next few weeks will be about getting my hands in the soil, learning the rhythms of permaculture, exploring soil health, and understanding sustainable materials firsthand. Mostly it is a chance to reconnect with the earth, something I’ve been craving for a while now.

I’m looking forward to sharing what I learn from the farm soon.

With love,

Em