The Week That Reminded Me Why I Do This

Eight years ago, I started my journey in student travel. I started working for a company that specialized in educational travel, and through that company I experienced and saw parts of the Dominican Republic I had never seen before. I had already lived 26 years in this country, from the day I was born until that moment, yet in 2018 I found myself, for the first time, in a batey, in communities in the mountains of Jarabacoa, and in places I never imagined would become such an important part of my life.

Eight years later, as I worked through what would now be my eighth summer (2020 unfortunately did not count), I found myself exhausted.

I had gone from being a Program Leader in 2018 to Director of Program Delivery in 2026, and this had been the longest season of my career. From the beginning of March until the end of July, I had supervised more than twenty programs: university groups, sports groups, educational travel, service travel, and even adult trips. Spring Break had been demanding, and the months that followed were nonstop. By the end of it all, I was counting down the days until vacation.

But, as life often does, it threw me a curveball when I was expecting nothing but a fastball straight to gaming and sleeping.

During the final week of summer, while two of our full-time staff members were already in the field supporting programs, we received a request to host a familiarization (FAM) trip from a company we had been hoping to work with for a long time.

The timing could not have been more challenging.

We held a discovery call. Harry, our COO, wisely suggested a shorter visit, knowing how demanding the season had been for all of us. The request eventually became an eight-day, seven-night trip. Harry took on the arrival day and another day later in the itinerary, while I organized and led the rest.

When I received the request, I was tired. I was ready to rest.

But I kept thinking about something Commander Erwin says in Attack on Titan (excuse my nerdiness): "Shinzou wo Sasageyo!" ("Dedicate your heart!"). Without spoiling anything for anyone who hasn't watched it, it's one of those moments about facing an impossible challenge and giving everything you have anyway.

That became my mindset. It was the final stretch, and if I was going to do it, I was going to do it right. That's something life has taught me over and over again, and something Harry has reinforced through years of mentorship and by leading through example.

So we gave it everything we had.

The itinerary started in the east of the country with one of our marine conservation partners, FUNDEMAR. We visited their facilities, including their growing laboratory, and it was impossible not to feel inspired. We happened to be there just before one of their biggest events of the year, and everyone, especially the young local team, was full of excitement. Seeing that level of passion and commitment from Dominican youth was incredibly energizing.

The following day, Ashley visited the bateyes with Harry and learned about our infrastructure projects. I had recently been there myself during another site visit, and one moment stayed with me.

For most of his life, Roberto, the community leader in Batey Monte Coca, has dedicated his life to improving his community. His son, Robertico, had helped build every one of the eighteen or so homes constructed through the project. This year, it was finally his family's turn to receive one.

He pulled me aside and quietly told me, "I'm not one to show much emotion, but you don't know how much joy this brings me."

That moment said everything. (BTW, stay tuned for more heart fuzzies when our next video drops on social, documenting this service project and the story of one of our closest allies in the bateyes!)

After a free day, we headed north to Sosúa, where we met with the Kerolle Initiative for Community Health. Their founder, Dr. Reginald Kerolle, shared his story, and it was powerful to see a Haitian doctor who has devoted his life to improving community health and creating opportunities for both Haitian and Dominican communities. At a time when tensions around migration often dominate the conversation, seeing someone so respected, so loved, and so committed to serving everyone around him was incredibly inspiring.

The next day, we met with some of our smaller hotel partners, locally and internationally owned hotels and ecolodges that are always excited to welcome our students and become part of the experiences we create.

From there, we visited Fundación Maguá. Although much smaller than FUNDEMAR and working with fewer resources, they are doing incredible work. They showed us their new laboratory, a huge step forward from what I had seen just a year earlier. The young biologist who welcomed us shared that, the night before, they had successfully achieved their first in-lab fertilization of pillar coral (Dendrogyra cylindrus), one of the Caribbean's most critically endangered coral species. Their team had been awake all night working on it, and yet he still greeted us with genuine enthusiasm and pride. His excitement was contagious.

Later, we arrived in Jarabacoa and visited a group of students who were helping pour a cement floor for a woman whose wooden home had recently collapsed. The house itself was being rebuilt thanks to support from the local government and other organizations. Our students were simply contributing the cement floor: a small grain of sand in a much bigger effort. But seeing her excitement about soon moving into her new home reminded me that even small contributions matter.

As the day came to an end, we decided to make one last stop in Sonido del Yaque.

Without telling anyone we were coming, we were welcomed like family. Esperanza and her daughter, Ivelisse, were both there, as well as the thousand stairs to paradise (iykyk). Esperanza has spent years building a community project from the ground up, creating educational opportunities, preserving local traditions, and opening doors for young people in her community. One of the most rewarding moments was hearing that another organization we had introduced to them had already brought one group of students last year and two more this year. Even when we haven't been able to send as many of our own groups as we'd like, seeing the partnerships continue to grow was incredibly meaningful.

This whole experience reminded me of something I think is easy to forget.

The Dominican Republic really does have it all.

Not just beaches, mountains, deserts, music, culture, and the warmth of its people, but also people who wake up every single day determined to make their communities better. People who fight for change against all odds. People who dedicate their lives to protecting the environment, improving education, strengthening public health, and creating opportunities for others.

It's easy to look at politics, at the news, or at everything happening in the world and think the future looks bleak. It's easy to believe that the only solution is to leave.

But then you spend a week with people like these.

You realize there are real changemakers out there: Dominicans, and adopted Dominicans alike (I firmly believe a loud-spoken KLK is enough to grant citizenship, right primo?), who have chosen to dedicate their lives to something bigger than themselves. They deserve to be recognized, and they deserve our support.

I'm grateful that they're our partners.

I'm grateful that we can bring students to learn from them, work alongside them, and contribute, even if it's only a small grain of sand, to the incredible work they're already doing. I'm grateful for the network we've built over the years and for the privilege of being a small part of it.

As Offbeat has grown, we've expanded into adult travel and family trips. Our mission to decolonize travel, support locally owned businesses, and show visitors another side of the Dominican Republic remains the same. But this week reminded me that our heart is still in these communities, in these service projects, and in the extraordinary people behind them.

If this trip taught me anything, it's that my country is in good hands.

The future may sometimes look uncertain, but it's in the hands of people who care deeply, who keep showing up, and who keep making a difference every single day.

Our job is to keep telling their stories, keep supporting their work, and inspire more people to become part of what they're building.

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