When Principles and Reality Collide: My Reflections on Rotary, Human Rights and Hope

Something has been weighing on me for a few months and I wanted to share my thoughts,

In May, I learned that Dubai was being considered to replace Honolulu as the 2027 Rotary International Convention host city. Since that choice was made, I’ve voiced my opposition clearly and consistently. I worry about what this decision says—not about the people of Dubai or the Rotarians there, but about the wider message it sends at a time when human rights matter now more than ever.

The UAE has a history of systemic repression: criminalization of homosexuality, restrictions on women’s rights, suppression of dissent, exploitation of migrant labor, and lack of press freedom. These realities affect millions and clash with Rotary’s inclusive values.

Since Dubai’s initial selection in June, I have met repeatedly with the International Organizing Committee, as well as with Rotarians worldwide who share my concerns. I raised questions, proposed alternatives, and urged a more transparent, ethical framework for choosing host cities in the future—one that weighs not just logistics or economics, but also moral and human rights considerations.

I truly feel that every member of the Committee listened to our concerns. The Committee revisited Dubai, and as many of you learned last week, the decision stands. My responsibility now is clear: to speak up for the principles Rotary claims to uphold, even when the path is difficult

Archbishop Desmond Tutu once said, “If you want peace, you don’t talk to your friends, you talk to your enemies.” I do not regard the people of the UAE as enemies. But I do believe this decision challenges us to engage across profound differences—even when that engagement unsettles us.

I have a lot of experience working with people whose belief systems differ from mine. Back in 2019 while working with the Human Thread Foundation, we collaborated with the Vatican on a project documenting the efforts of nuns supporting refugees - despite my discomfort with the Church’s stance on LGBTQ+ people. More recently, I have worked alongside colleagues in places where my very existence is criminalized—Uganda, Liberia, Saudi Arabia, Nigeria, and yes, the UAE. These encounters have been complicated, sometimes painful, but also deeply meaningful. By showing up authentically, I have invited others to see me more fully, and in turn, I have gained a richer understanding of cultures and values very different from my own.

I still would have preferred that a different city had been chosen. But I have also begun to consider how this moment might yet be redeemed. Dubai is a crossroads of the world—a city both modern and fraught, cosmopolitan and constrained, admired and scrutinized. The eyes of the world will be on it in 2027. If we, as Rotarians, are willing to lean into the discomfort, we have an opportunity to use this platform not only to reflect Rotary’s ideals, but to call attention to the very systems that fall short of them.

I am not going to pretend this is an easy or uncontroversial moment. It isn’t. But that is precisely why it matters. Those of you that know me know that I am not afraid to get into some controversy. If we as Rotarians are willing to confront contradictions, listen deeply, and remain unflinching in our commitment to human dignity, even when it makes us uncomfortable, then maybe this convention can be more than symbolic.

I still have concerns. Many of them. But I also have hope. And I believe the Dubai Convention can, if we choose, remind the world that Rotary’s greatest strength lies not in avoiding complexity, but in showing up authentically to meet it.