Spring has finally arrived in New Haven. Yalies are starting to enjoy the beautiful weather and come out of their cozy dormitories. Sunny weather is not the only thing that makes us smile. With graduation looming, soon-to-be Yale alumni are excited about the prospect of celebrating their hard work with loved ones. Upon graduating, Yalies will embark on new journeys driven by their ambition and individual choice. Some may choose careers with a mission and purpose. Among us, we could be looking at future presidents, ambassadors, prominent entrepreneurs, policymakers and more. My heart fills with joy when I envision a bright future for Yalies. 

At the same time, I’m also consumed with sadness and excruciating pain, for I can’t help but look back at my own graduation when I look ahead to yours.  

Six years ago, I was beyond excited to be the first Uyghur to graduate from Harvard Law School. I was planning to move to the District of Columbia to work as an anti-corruption lawyer. I never thought a nightmare was about to ensue, and that I would spend the next six years of my life in search of my brother. My brother Ekpar Asat, an award-winning tech-entrepreneur, philanthropist, alumnus of the U.S. State Department program, has fallen victim to the Chinese government’s concentration camps for Uyghur people. On my graduation day, I was the only graduate sitting next to empty chairs reserved for my family. My brother had been forcibly disappeared, and my parents were unable to leave China. 

As I sit to write this oped from the Sterling library, I keep thinking: how has six years gone by with his absence? I looked around the room and was reminded of how drastically different my life is from other members of the Yale community. My graduation was a lonely day filled with sorrow, agony and fear. I wish each Yalie can enjoy their graduation with loved ones by their side. 

With the excitement and confidence I have in the wonderful Yale community, I can also impart a crucial message which reflects years of struggle, learning and fighting in defense of human rights, the rule of law and democracy.  

Ekpar’s ordeal has shaped my life and informed my values. The injustice against Ekpar became a driving force in my mission as a human rights lawyer.   

Since I came to Yale as a World Fellow and now Tom and Andi Bernstein Fellow at the Law School, I have engaged in tireless advocacy about the plight of my community, the Uyghur people of China. I have taught seminars, including Yale’s famous Grand Strategy Course with the indomitable professor Beverly Gage, joined college dinners and teas and chatted with Yalies about their career goals, lives and purpose. We organized a protest for Uyghur freedom. I also spoke at the Summit for Democracy at the invitation of President Biden and joined the Amanpour show, with Yale Law Library serving as my perfect backdrop. But my community continues to suffer. The world has only become messier and darker with Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. 

Despite the grim reality, I was thrilled when University President Peter Salovey issued a strong statement condemning Russia’s invasion and potential crime of aggression in Ukraine. We are six years into the Uyghur crisis and I wish Yale has similarly condemned China. Nevertheless, the President’s message — along with the hundreds of students and community members who gathered on Cross Campus in protest — gives me optimism that perhaps we might take a stand against the Chinese government’s repressions. Institutions like Yale must be stewards in ending atrocities wherever they occur. 

Although the situation is very bleak, hope has emerged. Yale has finally begun to investigate whether Chinese companies it might invest in  are connected with Uyghur forced labor. The Yale community often asks me, “what’s Yale’s unique responsibility to end the atrocities against bright individuals like my brother in today’s China? How can this be done without jeopardizing Yale’s historical relationship with China?” Seeing many Chinese students on the Yale campus, including children of Chinese communist party elites, I wonder if Yale can demand that the Chinese government send Uyghurs to Yale instead of concentration camps. Uyghurs are intelligent, kind and generous people. They belong to Yale. They deserve our solidarity. In every lecture and workshop seminar, I’ve sought to do justice to the suffering of my people by highlighting the monumental dignity and resilience that my people has exemplified throughout this dark period. The Chinese government has deprived my brother of agency and voice, but they cannot take away his dignity. My brother remains an epitome of excellence, truth and grace.  

 In a few minutes of a monitored video call to the camp where Ekpar is held, my father virtually and proudly embraced his long-missing son. While struggling to contain his agony, pain and emotion, my dad wished that the roles were reversed. However, my brother comforted my father despite looking like a gaunt shadow of his former self, bearing the scars of years-long solitary confinement and reassuring my parents that “these days shall pass.” Unconsciously, he reached out in the hope of wiping off my dad’s tears, only to expose the handcuffs that broke my mom’s heart to pieces. He urged my parents to wipe off their tears, stand tall and always choose kindness in the face of injustice. He taught — and continues to teach — a message of “kindness and peace” that we all should learn from and champion. 

So Yalies, as you are designing your career goals and ambitions, I invite you to become an ambassador of peace. In times like this we need people like you more than ever. Both Yale as an institution and its members must choose to be the light to shine in the darkness for the oppressed, to speak truth to power no matter how powerful they may be. 

Rayhan Asat  is a Yale Law Tom and Andi Bernstein Human Rights Fellow Senior Fellow,  and a senior fellow at the Atlantic Council. Contact her at rayhan.asat@yale.edu.