Focus on Long-Term Impact, keeping your ultimate vision in mind even when progress feels slow
Focus on Long-Term Impact, keeping your ultimate vision in mind even when progress feels slow
by Agustian Ramadana Putera
Publishing a paper in a reputable scientific journal is something I consider a distant achievement. When I got the news this morning that my paper draft had been accepted and officially published in the journal website, my first reaction was not just excitement. I felt very grateful, alhamdulillah bi ni’matihi tatimmu sholihat, and also reflective.
As a student who pursue Ph.D degree and as a novice researcher, I begin to realize that academic publication is not just about having paper published, read by plenty of people and hopefuly cited by other researchers. Behind every publication, there is a long process of learning and very slow progress: learning how to generate questions, synthesize the literature, collect and analyse the data, drafting the menuscript and respond to reviewer criticism, and probably learn to accept the first version of my draft is not rarely the best version.
This experience also triggered me to think about academic culture where novel researchers can grow. In numerous Indonesian universities, publication has become one parts of academic requirement encountered by many students, especially master and doctoral. In several cases, students may be required to publish their writings in reputable journal and this becomes the prerequisite for them to graduate. Through formal policy, institutions attempt to encourage students to involve in scholarly conversation and introduce them to standards of academic publishing. This probably add another burden to students who in fact is not having skills, expertise and experience in journal article publication.
Yet another side of the story exists.
When publication is manifested as primary requirement of graduation, students may view research differently. They probably conduct research because they have to. They may pick a research topic due to its manageability, not because they are really curious about the topic. They may then be keen on publication because they want to graduate as soon as possible, instead of the desire to contribute to a wider academic community. In this case, I never declare that publication policy is totally flawed in principle. The concern is probably what happen around that obligation.
Do students obtain sufficient support that help them to develop as novice researcher? Do they have people who are willing to discuss their idea, check their draft, and accompany them throughout difficult revision time? Do they feel research as an intellectual journey or just like another administrative responsibility? For me personally, this is where academic culture of Faculty of Education (FoE), Universitas Islam Internasional Indonesia (UIII) has made a meaningful distinction.
I have been blessed to encounter an environment that encourage me to see research not merely as something that must be finished, but as something that can be developed. The support from academics, staff, colleague, and my wife, who is also student of FoE UIII and author of this paper, has given me space to ask question, reflect on mistakes, refine my thinking, and of course keep trying.
As a novice researcher who is always learning, this kind of condition matter enormously. A productive research cannot be achieved by setting a high publication target. It begins from an environment where students can learn safely, ask question continuously, and feel backed enough to keep improving.
This is indeed crucial for PhD students, particularly for those who will be in academics field for their chosen career. We are still learning how to navigate the academic world. We are learning to transform curiosity into research questions, observation into evidence, idea into scholarly contribution, and so forth. How well students develop is significantly influenced by the environment in which learning actually takes place.
This is the reason why I view this publication more than just my private accomplishment. Because of the fortune I received from FoE UII, I hope that I am able to provide a similar environment for my students later. I want them to feel research not as forced obligation, but as an opportunity to explore ideas and satisfy curiosity. If the support I obtained today change the way I approach research, hopefully I can inherit that experience to the students I supervise in my university.
Life Is Short, the Craft Is Long, and Opportunity Fleeting: An FoE Dual-Degree Student's Notes from London
Life Is Short, the Craft Is Long, and Opportunity Fleeting: An FoE Dual-Degree Student's Notes from London
By Aliva Erhan
How does it feel when life ultimately carries you to a place you have never been before? Miles away from familiarity, with a definite task to accomplish and a distinct load to bear? How does it feel when, after two years of study, you are set to earn two master’s degrees from two institutions of your choice, with twice as many opportunities to explore your passions? When it happened to me over this past year, it turned out to be a bittersweet journey: demanding yet deeply rewarding for the chance to see a broader world. And here I am, the first dual-degree student in the MA in Education at Universitas Islam Internasional Indonesia, currently in my second year of the program, pursuing the MA in Islamic Studies at SOAS University of London.
On September 20, 2026, at 12:35 PM BST, Heathrow Airport became London's first greeting to me. I flew alone, experiencing a roughly 19-hour flight for my very first trip abroad from Indonesia. My family and classmates from the MA Education Batch 5 came to see me off at the airport that night, blessing me with their support and prayers. I am pursuing this program under the LPDP scholarship, which I applied for through the regular track in Batch 1 of 2025. After a rigorous selection process, I finally started my studies in MA Education at UIII in September 2025 before transitioning to MA Islamic Studies at SOAS University of London in September 2026.
Given the demanding nature of this program, I am fortunate to have academic advisors from both universities easing my path. At UIII, Assoc. Prof. Tati Latipatud Durriyah, Ph.D., as my academic advisor, assisted me in evaluating course selections and calculating credits, through continuous consultation sessions, both offline and online. The Dean, Prof. Nina Nurmila, Ph.D., also actively monitored my application progress to SOAS. My application to SOAS was submitted independently, much like any standard full-year MA application, and it was submitted during my second semester at UIII, only with a dual-degree cover letter from the faculty. Now in my second year, I have been assigned Prof. Mustafa Shah from SOAS as my academic advisor, who has been equally communicative and highly responsive.
As it turns out, undertaking a dual degree is highly rewarding, especially when you are studying something you are genuinely passionate about. Not to mention having the chance to connect with people from various countries, cultures, backgrounds, academic fields, and institutions. For someone who enjoys observing and reflecting on the richness of the living world, like me, it brings a deep sense of satisfaction. Opportunities to engage in international events and conferences are also boundless. In my case, studying in London means such events are happening almost constantly. Similarly, at UIII in Depok, being so close to Jakarta meant there were abundant opportunities to enrich both academic and non-academic experiences. With that in mind, as long as time and my personal capacity allow, I try not to miss them.
However, the responsibility and consequences are also significant. A dual degree means taking on double coursework, including, in my case, another 180 credits at my second university. Before going further, though, it is worth noting that dual-degree schemes may vary across universities. Hence, it is essential to thoroughly research and understand the technical details from the very beginning (consulting directly with the faculty can provide clear guidance on this). While non-dual-degree students can start to focus on independent study and theses in the third semester, I still have to complete a whole new set of modules at the partner university while writing two theses. Nevertheless, for me, this remains entirely worth it for the opportunity and exposure it brings.
Academic workload is indeed one of the most important things to consider for those who are interested in taking this program. Ideally, it is best to map out your academic direction and goals early on to simplify module selection. Beyond that, as much as possible, choose a field that aligns with your interests. This is because psychological well-being deserves equal consideration; a demanding academic workload combined with a disconnect in interest or study environment would only multiply the mental toll.
Furthermore, the ability to adapt quickly is essential. Dual-degree students have to go through a relatively compressed cycle of adaptation: settling in at the first university at the start of year one, completing modules, packing up by the end of the year, then settling in at the partner university in the second year, completing more modules and theses, and then packing up again by the end of the year, to finally settle into ‘real life’ all over again. Life is short, the craft is long, and opportunity fleeting, Hippocrates said. Sometimes, it can feel almost unreal to learn from experts in their respective fields, to encounter so many ideas and disciplines, to immerse yourself in unfamiliar ways of thinking, all within such a remarkably short period of time. We are not yet experts, yet everything passes so quickly. But perhaps that is what life is: fleeting before our eyes as we live it. After all, coming back to the context of pursuing a dual degree, this is not a small commitment, and neither are many of the other decisions we make in life. It is worth taking the time to understand what we are choosing, what it may ask of us, and whether we are ready to embrace it.
By the time this essay is published, I will have spent almost three weeks in London. At UIII, I used to study and do my work in the student room of the Faculty A Building, at the corner, across from Classroom 18. Now here, I have found a new basecamp: the lounge on the lower ground floor of the SOAS main building, just around the corner from the female prayer room. The learning experience at both institutions has been deeply fulfilling for me. I have been able to benefit from the strengths of each university, and most importantly, I have found what I need and what matters to me. Moving forward, perhaps I will also have more opportunities to explore the UK further and, if time allows, Europe as well? Until the next chapter. May every dreamer draw closer to what they dream of and to what is good and meant for them.
Lesson Learned and Future Collaboration: A Reflection on Joining a Summer Program at Shaanxi Normal University (SNNU)
Lesson Learned and Future Collaboration: A Reflection on Joining a Summer Program at Shaanxi Normal University (SNNU)
by Destina Wahyu Winarti
Lecturer at the Faculty of Education, UIII
The opportunity to participate in the Summer Program at Shaanxi Normal University, in Xi’an, China was a meaningful and insightful experience for me, both academically and personally. Funded by the Chinese Government Scholarship 2026, the program was held from 14 to 29 September 2026 and was designed to foster international academic exchange and research collaboration. Five participants from Indonesia, including myself, joined this program which was particularly designed for graduate students and early-career researchers.
One of my first impressions of SNNU was the academic environment at Yanta Campus. The arrangement was quite different from what I am accustomed to in Indonesia. During our visits to three Professors’ laboratories, I noticed that professors and their postgraduate students worked together in the same space. Ph.D and master’s students generally worked on research projects related to their supervisors’ areas of expertise. I found this arrangement particularly interesting because it seemed to encourage close interaction between supervisors and students. Being physically together also created opportunities for frequent discussion, exchange of ideas, and informal academic conversation. In my view, this environment can help sustain students’ engagement and perseverance in their research.
I was also struck by the relationship between professors and students. Despite working in the same room and interacting frequently, I observed a strong sense of respect toward professors. This reminded me of the cultural differences I experiences during my own education in the Netherlands and Australia, where relationships between students and lectures tend to be more informal. As someone from an Asian cultural background, I found the academic cultural I observed at SNNU familiar and, in some ways, more aligned with my own cultural understanding of respect for teachers.
A particularly valuable part of the program was the opportunity to work closely with Professor Ma Hongliang, Vice Dean of the Faculty of Education and head of the AI and STEM Education Research Center. From the second day of the program, we began discussing possibilities for future collaborative research. I found this especially exciting because our research interests intersect in STEM Education, although we approach it from somewhat different perspectives. Professor Ma’s work focuses strongly on teachers’ professional development (PD), Artificial intellegence or AI, robotics, applications, and the practical implementation of STEM Education, while my research interest focuses more on spatial thinking, students learning, and the conceptual foundations and values of STEM education.
Our discussion helped me reflect on my own research direction. I realized that I have increasingly focused on understanding what STEM education means, why particular aspects of STEM learning are important and how spatial thinking can contribute to meaningful STEM learning. At the same time, Professor Ma’s work offers a strong connection to the practical implementation of STEM through technologies such as AI and robotics. I believe these complementary perspectives provide a promising foundation for collaboration between SNNU and UIII. Together, we hope to explore STEM education not simply as the integration of Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics or as the use of advanced technologies, but as an approach that develops meaningful ideas, values and students’ interests in STEM fields.
The workshops offered during the program also provided valuable learning opportunities. The sessions covered STEM teachers’ Professional Development (by Prof, Ma Hongliang), designing better video-based learning (by Prof, Pi Zhongling), generated instructional videos and the design of video-based pedagogical agents (by Prof. Zhou Yun) and assessing students’ computational thinking (by Dr. Wang Qin). These topics were closely connected to my research interest and provided new perspectives that may inform my future research and potential collaborations with SNNU.
Beyond the academic activities, I also appreciated the opportunity to learn about Chinese education and culture. Visiting the Museum of Education at SNNU Chang’an campus helped me understand how education, teacher education, history, and traditional culture have developed in China. The museum’s integration of education, research, cultural preservation and art provides a broader perspective on the relationship between education and society.
The visit to Xi’an Gaoxin No. 50 Primary School was another memorable experience. Seeing the school environment, students’ activities, and learning facilities allowed me to observe aspects of primary education in China firsthand. I was particularly interested in the school daily schedule, from 8.00 am to 4.30 pm, which is relatively long compared with many Indonesian primary schools. This observation made me wonder about the relationship between the amount of time students spend at school and their academic development, wellbeing and attitudes toward learning. It is a question that I would be interested in exploring further rather than simply assuming that longer school hours necessarily lead to better outcomes.
Overall, the summer program at SNNU gave me so much more than exposure to another university and education system. It encouraged me to reflect on my own academic identity, research interest, and assumptions about education. Not every practice I observed in China can or should be directly applied to the Indonesian context. However, the experience reminded me that international academic exchange is precisely valuable because it allows us to see our own practices from a different perspective.
Most importantly, I see this program not as the end of an academic visit, but as the beginning of a potential long-term relationship between SNNU and UIII. I hope that the connections established during these two weeks will develop into meaningful collaborative research, particularly in STEM education, teacher professional development, AI, and spatial thinking, while ultimately contributing to efforts to build students’ interest and engagement in STEM fields.
A Reflection on My Journey at UIII
A Reflection on My Journey at UIII
By Mohammad Dawood Alkozay (M.A in Education batch 4 student)
I still remember, as if it happened only yesterday, the day I held my ticket and my visa in my hand, ready to travel to Indonesia. That feeling has not faded from my memory even a little bit, although now, when I look back, I cannot believe that it has already been two years since that day. Time here has passed so fast, faster than I ever expected. Maybe it is because Indonesia does not have four different seasons like my home country, so the days blend into each other without me noticing. Or maybe, and I think this is the real reason, it is because I have been happier here than I thought I would be, and happiness always makes time move quickly without permission.
Since I was young, it had always been my dream to study abroad one day and to know, with my own eyes and ears, what it truly means to live inside an international community, surrounded by people from every corner of the world. I have always held the belief that human beings do not learn only from the pages of a book. We learn, perhaps even more, from experience and from meeting people who are different from us. To me, every person is like a book waiting to be read, because every person carries their own ideas and their own beliefs inside them, and once we open ourselves to interaction with them, a new window opens in our mind that shows us a way of thinking we had never considered before.
Honestly speaking, when I first started this program, I was not very interested in the field of Education itself. My heart and my mind were somewhere else. But slowly, day by day, I began to learn things that I could never have learned if I had not come to Indonesia. Most of what I gained did not come only from my lecturers or from the articles I read, though those were valuable too, but from the interactions I had with different individuals around me. I built friendships here, real friendships, the kind that I believe will remain with me until the end of my life. At the same time, the lessons I received from my professors and from the books they gave me opened new horizons in the way I see the world. They deepened my understanding of education, of how important it is for mankind, and of how much it contributes to shaping individuals who can, in turn, shape a better society.
Beyond the classroom, living in Indonesia taught me lessons of a more practical kind, lessons that no amount of money could ever buy, no matter how much I paid for my studies. Here, I learned the value of things I had always taken for granted back home. Cooking my own food, washing my own clothes, cleaning my own room, going out to buy groceries, all these small and ordinary tasks made me finally understand how much time and effort my mother and my sisters had been saving for me all those years, quietly, without me ever noticing. I did not know the true value of what they did for me until I had to do it all by myself, far away from them. There is a well-known saying in the Persian language, which, translated simply, means that a man cannot become a complete man without traveling. I feel, now, that I have become more complete, and that I have gained a kind of maturity that I believe will help me live a happier and more grounded life once I return to my country.
I truly believe that studying here will open many doors for me in the future, even though I come from a country that has suffered from war for a long time, where finding proper employment is never an easy task. But even if those doors do not open as I hope, I will never regret the decision I made to come and study at UIII. What I have learned here, I would not exchange for millions of dollars. I am deeply thankful to the administration of UIII for giving me this opportunity, and I am equally thankful to my instructors, who I once thought were not doing enough to help me, but whom I later understood were doing exactly what a teacher should do.
I remember, for instance, during my thesis writing I went to my first thesis supervisor, with a question about which theory I should use for my research. Instead of simply telling me the answer, he would point to a book on his shelf and ask me to read it myself. At first, I found this frustrating, even a little strange, and I wondered why he would not simply name the correct theory and save my time. It was only later that I came to understand that what he was doing was, in fact, the right way to teach. By guiding me toward books instead of giving me easy answers, he was showing me the most practical way to learn how to think and work as a proper researcher. I once believed this method was a waste of time, but now I know how much I gained from those very books he recommended. There are many more stories like this one that I wish I could share, but the limits of this reflection do not allow me to write them all here.
As I sit here now, trying to gather all these memories into words, I realize that no reflection, however long, could ever truly capture what these years in Indonesia have given me. UIII was not only a place where I studied for a degree; it was a place where I grew, quietly and slowly, into a person I did not know I could become. I came here as a student searching for knowledge, but I am leaving as someone who has also found friendship, patience, humility, and a deeper love for learning itself. Whatever the future holds for me, whether the doors of opportunity open easily or not, I will always carry this chapter of my life close to my heart. To Indonesia, to UIII, and to everyone who walked a part of this journey with me, I owe a debt of gratitude that words alone cannot repay.
Learning to Look Beyond the Individual: Reflections on the Thesis Journey
Learning to Look Beyond the Individual: Reflections on the Thesis Journey
by Erisa Oksanda
The idea of my thesis research topic came from the discomfort about the issue of bullying in higher education in Indonesia. Bullying in educational settings was always concerning for me and as I read more, I noticed many discussions centered only on victim and perpetrator, while few research discusses bystanders in the dynamic of bullying. The concern about bullying slowly becomes curiosity and leads to research ideas.
Having an interesting idea was only the beginning of my thesis journey. “Bystander” turned out have a broader concept than I expected. I spent some time to define what I wanted to study and considering the time so I can realistically finish my thesis on time. Throughout the process, my conceptual framework also changed several times as I got more insight from the reading material that I found and started to question my understanding. In this journey, I am lucky to have Dr. Charyna as my supervisor who always patiently guided me to untangle my confusion. Beside constructing a suitable framework for my thesis, I also need to find the appropriate instrument to measure my variables within the framework. This phase felt like another roller coaster ride for me. I feel lucky to have had Dr. Bambang as my supervisor, who patiently guided me throughout the process, from finding instruments to reporting my findings.
The results were probably the part of the thesis that surprised me a lot. Some of my findings came out different from what I had expected based on previous literature, particularly previous literature conducted outside the Southeast Asian context. For instance, my finding showed that 80% of the bystanders in my study reported that they had helped a victim of bullying at least once during their time in the university. This was interesting because previous literature I found described bystanders as being reluctant to intervene. Instead of simply seeing my finding as contradictory, I started wondering whether it was telling me something about how we define bystanders and how bystander behavior may be shaped by the Indonesian educational and cultural context.
This was also where I felt my perspective as a researcher started to develop. My undergraduate background in Psychology has taught me to think about individuals, psychological constructs, theories, and measurement. That background was helpful when developing my thesis framework and working with psychological instruments. However, studying Education encouraged me to look beyond the individual. I began to ask how psychological processes occur within educational environments and relationships. In my thesis, empathy and emotion regulation were not simply individual psychological characteristics, they were connected to students’ experiences as members of a university community and to how they responded to bullying around them.
I feel that my thesis journey is not only a process to earn another degree but also a transition between the two fields. In Psychology, I was often interested in understanding why individuals think, feel, or behave in certain ways. Through education, I became increasingly interested in how those processes are shaped by context. The bystander became particularly meaningful to me because a bystander is not simply an individual who possesses certain psychological characteristics. A bystander is also a student, a peer, and a member of an educational community who has to make decisions within a particular social environment.
Looking back, I do not think I could have predicted how this thesis would develop when I first brainstormed the idea. There were many moments of confusion, methodological challenges, unexpected findings, and countless discussions with my supervisors. Yet, those challenges were also what made the process meaningful. My supervisors' guidance helped me move from a broad concern about bullying to a focused research question, from uncertainty about measurement to conducting pilot testing to collecting the primary data, and finally from simply reporting results to asking what those results might mean.
Most importantly, I learned that completing a thesis is not only about producing a final document. It is the process where I am starting to question definitions, reconsider assumptions, and recognize when a result opens a new question rather than providing a final answer. My thesis writing journey has made me realize that I do not want to look at human behavior only as an individual phenomenon. I want to understand people within the contexts in which they learn, interact, belong, and grow. In that sense, this thesis has been not only an academic project, but also an important part of discovering what kind of researcher I want to become.
Becoming a Researcher, One Revision at a Time
Becoming a Researcher, One Revision at a Time
By Lakhaula Sahrotul Aulia
My thesis journey began around July 2025, when I started brainstorming what I wanted to study. Since the Indonesian government launched its climate change education guidelines at the end of 2024, I have been interested in exploring climate change education. However, I quickly learned that having an interesting idea was not enough. I needed to understand what had been studied, where the gaps were, and, most importantly, what could actually be investigated and measured.
This was when the literature review became both exciting and overwhelming. As I read, my conceptual and theoretical frameworks developed alongside each other, but my ideas kept changing. I explored misconceptions, reconsidered my variables, questioned how they should be measured, and even considered a mixed-methods approach before deciding to remain with a quantitative design. Conversations with several lecturers helped me see my research from different perspectives, but ultimately, I had to keep questioning my own choices. It took me ten revisions before I finally arrived at my final conceptual framework, each revision was accompanied by extensive literature review.
Looking back, determining my variables and figuring out how to measure them was probably the most challenging part of my thesis journey. A research idea can sound convincing in theory, but quantitative research requires those ideas to become measurable constructs. I often felt alone in this process because everyone was busy developing their own research.
Once my framework was finalized, however, the literature review became much easier to write because I had already read and organized so much. Even before having an official thesis supervisor, I was grateful that UIII lecturers were always open to discussion. That culture of intellectual generosity became an important part of my learning experience.
While many people felt relieved after the proposal seminar, those of us conducting quantitative research were entering another demanding stage: instrument adaptation. Finding a validated instrument was only the beginning. We still needed to translate it, conduct expert judgment, and pilot test it to ensure validity and reliability. I completed my expert judgment during the last week of Ramadan and remain deeply grateful to the experts who generously gave their time and expertise.
My instrument required two rounds of pilot testing. While some of my friends could proceed to their main data collection after one pilot, I had to revise several items and conduct another round. I felt left behind and had to postpone my main data collection by approximately two weeks. But I did it anyway. Throughout this process, A/Prof. Bambang was incredibly responsive whenever I reported my Rasch analysis, helping me move quickly to the next stage.
Then came data collection, which became another unexpected challenge. My study required participants from twelve universities, while I had almost no connections within PGPAUD or PIAUD departments because my own background was in science education. I was genuinely worried that I would not reach my required sample size.
So, I tried everything I could: asking friends for contacts, messaging student associations on Instagram, searching university websites, contacting lecturers through email, and eventually recruiting research assistants. I never expected to have sixteen research assistants across twelve universities. Together, they helped collect data from 521 participants. Considering my limited positionality and connections within the field, this remains one of the achievements I am most proud of.
After data collection, the challenges continued. I had to repeat my analyses several times because of small but consequential mistakes: entering the wrong table code in Winsteps, changing a Likert scale incorrectly, or forgetting to reverse-code an item. Sometimes, I had to start the analysis again from the beginning. It was incredibly frustrating. When I told Dr. Destina how overwhelmed I was, she advised me to step away and return with a fresh mind. So I stopped working for a day to cry, spent a couple of days doing almost nothing, and, admittedly, bothering my friends.
Strangely enough, when I returned, the analysis went much more smoothly. I learned that data analysis requires not only technical competence but also a clear mind. During this stage, Dr. Bambang provided crucial technical support, while Dr. Destina provided the moral support that kept me going. Both were essential to completing my thesis.
The final challenge was writing the discussion. By then, I was honestly tired of my own research. I already knew my results, so returning to the literature felt exhausting. Yet this stage reminded me why all those months of reading had mattered. I had organized my papers by theme, renamed them so they were easier to find, highlighted them, and carefully stored them in Zotero. Suddenly, finding the literature I needed was much easier. My past overthinking self had, in a way, made my future self's work easier.
More broadly, I realized that every course I took at UIII eventually led me to this thesis. What I learned about paradigms, methodology, measurement, analysis, and interpretation became part of how I designed and conducted my own research. The high standards maintained by UIII lecturers challenged me to take research seriously and gradually gave me confidence in my own abilities.
This thesis also helped me secure a job before I even graduated from my master's degree, and for that, I am especially grateful to Dr. Destina for supporting my research idea from the very beginning.
I came to UIII with very limited research skills. I leave having conceptualized, designed, conducted, analyzed, and written my own research. Of course, I did not do it entirely alone. I was supported by lecturers, experts, friends, research assistants, and an academic environment that challenged me to do better. But the research itself became mine: an idea I developed, a study I carried out, and a thesis I wrote.
And perhaps that is what makes this journey meaningful to me. Somewhere between ten conceptual frameworks, two pilot tests, sixteen research assistants, 521 participants, repeated analyses, frustration, tears, and far too much overthinking, I realized that I had become a researcher. A junior one, still, but one nonetheless.
Two Years, One Journey: Reflection on Learning, Sacrifice, and Growth at UIII
Two Years, One Journey: Reflection on Learning, Sacrifice, and Growth at UIII
by Sheu-Tijani Aminu Opeyemi
Batch 4 MA in Education @ Universitas Islam Internasional Indonesia
The completion of master’s program marks an important milestone in my academic career. From the beginning, when I received the news of my admission to Universitas Islam Internasional Indonesia (UIII) on a scholarship, I felt a mixture of nervousness, curiosity, and joy for the chance to continue my academic pursuit, after having taken a break from formal study for several years. This opportunity was particularly meaningful to me as it came after several earlier, unsuccessful efforts to secure a scholarship. My nervousness stemmed from uncertainty about what to expect, how to meet the expectations of my esteemed host university, how to navigate a new environment where I would learn alongside individuals from diverse contexts and backgrounds as well as the reality of leaving family behind for two years.
Upon arriving at UIII on 31 October 2024, I was eager to start my studies, interact with new colleagues and experience Indonesia’s culturally and religiously diverse environment. One of my first notable experiences was a sightseeing trip to Jakarta planned by my newly met course mates. This experience gradually eased my initial nervousness as I began to feel the geniality, hospitality and embracing nature of the host community particularly the Indonesian people.
Beyond this sightseeing experience, my encounters with amiable lecturers in my programme of study, the administrative staff of the faculty, and the wider university community created a profound and positive impression on me. Unlike my Bachelor experience, which was largely focused on coursework; my study at UIII introduced me to a more research-oriented approach to graduate education. The lecturers devotedly guided us towards becoming academic researchers by focusing our attention on academic writing, educational principles and theories and research methodologies. From the outset, courses in research writing, Wasatiyyah, qualitative and quantitative methods, psychology and philosophy of education broadened my understanding of education and strengthened my foundation for academic inquiry.
By the time I completed my first year, I had become increasingly appreciative of the rare opportunity to learn and grow academically in such an intellectually enriched setting. I was particularly inspired by the grace to learn from highly accomplished academicians many of whom had obtained their doctoral degrees from renowned universities abroad. Their diverse expertise, perspectives, and commitment to inclusive teaching significantly enriched my learning experience. The lectures were thoughtfully structured to accommodate our diverse backgrounds, allowing us to engage in discussions and exchange ideas through the lenses of different cultures and countries of origin. This experience taught me that diversity is not merely a feature of an international university; it is itself a valuable source of learning.
At this stage, even though I did not yet consider myself a scholarly contributor, I could evidently see and appreciate how my research knowledge and skills were developing in a gradual process. I became increasingly hopeful that, with continued learning, practice, and dedication, I would eventually be able to make meaningful contributions to knowledge production. I came to appreciate this development even more as I began considering an appropriate topic for my thesis. Initially the prospect of developing and completing a thesis seemed to be a considerable challenge and a source of pressure. However, the knowledge and skills I acquired through coursework in identifying research gaps, formulating research problems, systematically reviewing the literature, and applying the right research approaches positioned me to undertake the assignment with a greater sense of confidence. Together with the additional concentration courses I undertook alongside the core courses, this training enabled me to transform what initially seemed like a daunting task into a more manageable academic endeavour.
During this period, the university also provided me and some of my colleagues with the opportunity to apply our learning through an internship program in different academic institutions. I provided administrative and academic support to senior staff, which allowed me to connect some of the knowledge gained in the classroom with practical experiences within an educational institution. The experience further broadened my understanding of how academic and administrative responsibilities work together to support the effective functioning of educational institutions.
Beyond this academic experience, my time in Indonesia has also shaped my understanding of how hospitality, dedication, commitment, and institutional responsibility can contribute to organisational and national development. Observing how different units within the university worked together to ensure its smooth functioning gave me a deeper appreciation of cooperation and collective responsibility. The relationships and my daily interactions outside the academic setting offered a worthwhile experience. Personal observations and conversations with the people of Indonesia increased my appreciation of the country and its people. In many aspects I have felt welcomed and relaxed in Indonesia, and this has made it feel more like I have come here to build relationships and create memories in a real way, than just to study for a degree programme only. I am very thankful for the opportunity to experience this part of Indonesia life; I hope my relationship with Indonesia and the people will not stop after my graduation.
The two-year journey has not been easy, however. It was tough to be away from my family, my wife and four children for so long. These experiences have helped me to appreciate the wisdom that comes from the Qur'anic Guidance regarding family and dwellings, “Askinuhunna min haythu sakantum”— “Lodge them where you dwell” (Qur'an 65:6). The experience was a reminder to me how valuable family is and how much of a sacrifice it is to pursue knowledge.
In retrospect, I thank God for His grace and strength to get through to the end. I am equally grateful to UIII, my lecturers, colleagues, and host community for creating an environment where I felt safe, welcomed and supported. I found their kindness transforming what seemed a daunting journey to one of the most important of my academic and personal growth.
A journey of a thousand miles is said to begin with a single step. My experience at UIII was a journey of uncertainty that culminated in gratitude, growth, and a redefined purpose. I am leaving this programme not only with a master’s degree but also sound research skills, intellectual depths, and strong relationships. Most importantly, I take with me my renewed dedication to put what I learned into practice for the benefit of education and society.
From a Course Assignment to Publication: My Experience with PISA 2022 Data
From a Course Assignment to Publication: My Experience with PISA 2022 Data
By Dwi Oktariani
When I entered the Graduate Seminar on Large-Scale Assessment course in the second semester of my doctoral study at the Faculty of Education, Universitas Islam Internasional Indonesia (UIII), I never imagined that the final assignment from the course would lead me to a publication in a reputable international journal. The course, taught by Bambang Sumintono, Ph.D., was a continuation of Advanced Educational Assessment, which had previously started to introduce me to the world of assessment and education measurement.
My academic background is in performing arts education, especially dance. Before starting my doctoral study, most of my research and practice were closely connected to arts and communities. I teach traditional dance at Universitas Tanjungpura, work as an arts practitioner, do choreography and performances, and conduct research on indigenous communities in West Kalimantan. The research world that I knew was very close to people, movement, tradition, and cultural practices. Data involving thousands of respondents, statistical analysis, SPSS, and especially large-scale assessment felt like a world very far from me.
My more serious encounter with quantitative approaches actually began at UIII. In the assessment course, I started learning about the Rasch Model and how to use Winsteps software. I began to understand how the quality of an item is examined and how assessment can produce accountable information. This experience slowly broadened the way I viewed educational research and showed me that there were still many areas outside the field I had been working in that I needed to learn.
A more challenging journey began when PISA was introduced in the Graduate Seminar on Large-Scale Assessment course. For the midterm assignment, I critically examined large-scale assessment practices and began questioning the relatively limited position of the arts in that discussion. I then carried this interest into my final assignment. I wanted to know whether a dataset as large as PISA could actually “speak” about the arts. From this simple question, I started developing a study on gender differences in affective engagement, creativity belief through the arts, and Indonesian students’ participation in school-based arts activities using PISA 2022 data.
The process was much more difficult than I expected. I had never used SPSS before, let alone worked with large-scale secondary data. From the thousands of data available through the OECD, I chose the Indonesian data because of my own curiosity: what does PISA actually look like when we focus on Indonesian students? I started looking for the questions given to students, understanding the code for each item, identifying relevant variables, and selecting data that could be used in the study. At that stage, the more I searched, the more I felt that I did not know enough. I even visited the libraries at UPI and UNY to look for previous studies that connected PISA with arts education. However, I did not find any study that was exactly the same as what I wanted to do. I also studied the work of senior students who had used PISA data to understand how such data could be developed into an article for a Scopus-indexed journal.
The more I read, the broader the problem became, and the more difficult it was for me to keep the study focused. At the same time, the final assignment deadline was getting closer. I was tired, but stopping was not an option. In the end, I returned to something I understood best: the arts. I went through the PISA 2022 questions again and finally selected seven items related to affective engagement, creativity belief, and participation in visual arts, music, and theatre.
I also did not go through this learning process alone. My classmates became an important part of the journey. Munaya helped me a lot in learning how to do data cleaning, something that was completely new to me at the time. Mbak Nofi and Pak Umam kept encouraging me when I felt overwhelmed by the secondary data. In class, the lecturer also continued to show us different examples of academic articles that we could study as references when developing our final assignments. From this experience, I realized that learning at the doctoral level also grows through asking questions, trying, making mistakes, discussing, and helping one another.
Eventually, the final assignment was completed. The results showed that female students had higher affective engagement with the arts, while male students reported a higher frequency of participation in several school-based arts activities. For me, these findings were not only statistical results. I started to see how large-scale data could offer another perspective on issues in arts education that I had previously understood mainly through practice, observation, and field experience.
After the final grade was released, I did something that was actually quite spontaneous. I tried submitting the paper to Asian Education and Development Studies (AEDS), Emerald, a Scopus Q2 journal. I did not even make major changes. The manuscript I submitted was basically the final assignment from the course. It was also my first experience creating an Emerald account and trying the submission process to an international journal by myself.
When I received the news that the manuscript had passed the initial stage and entered the review process, I was actually confused about how I should react. I sent the review decision to the lecturer and asked what it meant because at that time I still did not fully understand how publication in a Scopus journal worked. He congratulated me and encouraged me to begin “navigating” the reviewer revisions. That phrase turned out to be quite an accurate description of what happened over almost the following year.
The review process became another learning space for me. At one stage, I was very happy when one reviewer gave a minor revision. However, in the next round, I was faced again with a major revision. The manuscript eventually went through several rounds of revision before it was accepted. Even near the end, issues related to consistency of terms, punctuation, number formatting, and proofreading still brought me back to another revision.
Part of this process took place during a very personal period in my life because I was going through childbirth. My concentration was certainly not always at its best. Strangely, however, I do not remember the revision process as an unpleasant experience. I actually enjoyed it. Every reviewer comment showed me a part of my own writing that I had not noticed before. A manuscript that I initially considered only a course assignment slowly became a much more mature piece of work.
The experience of being a single author also left its own impression on me. I handled the entire process myself, from submission, reading and responding to reviewer comments, reanalyzing the data when necessary, revising the manuscript, to communicating with the editorial team. There was freedom in it, but also full responsibility. That was exactly what made the experience enjoyable. I could directly see how my ability developed from one version of the manuscript to the next.
In the end, the article, “Gender Differences in Affective Engagement, Creativity Belief Through the Arts, and Participation in School-Based Arts Activities: Evidence from PISA 2022 Indonesia,” was accepted and published in Asian Education and Development Studies. I still love traditional dance, indigenous communities, and research that allows me to meet people directly and engage with their cultural practices. Learning about PISA and quantitative research simply gave me another way to look at arts education. I now understand that issues in the arts can be read through community stories and teachers’ experiences, but they can also be explored through thousands of student responses in an international dataset.
For this reason, I am very grateful to the lecturer, who, through the Graduate Seminar on Large-Scale Assessment course, opened a door to a research area that I had never imagined I would enter. Thank you for the publication examples, experiences, and encouragement that were always shared with us in class. I am also grateful to my classmates who became part of this learning process, especially Munaya, Mbak Nofi, and Pak Umam. This experience made me understand that a course assignment at the doctoral level does not have to end when a grade has been given. For me, perhaps this is the most valuable meaning of the journey: learning does not always make us feel more comfortable. Sometimes, learning takes us into unfamiliar territory, makes us feel many times that we do not know enough, and then slowly expands the boundaries of what we think we are capable of doing as researchers.
BIPA: Bridges of Language, Gardens of Heart
BIPA: Bridges of Language, Gardens of Heart
by Ramli
Learning foreign language always a challenge for everybody, not easy and full of surprise. In addition, teaching foreign language even more challenging. Usually, I began with a book of rules and a promise to teach sounds, tenses, and neat sentences. Soon the room refused to be a textbook. It folded itself into a shelter where voices found courage and small triumphs sprouted like green shoots after rain. Teaching Indonesian was supposed to be a craft; instead, it became a quiet liturgy of belonging. We learned through touch and taste. In roleplays, the clatter of imagined markets turned into music; bargaining for a mango felt like learning a heartbeat. The language slipped into palms and plates when we cooked together, each spice a new word, each recipe a story carried across oceans. Walking the neighborhood, directions became poems of streets and storefronts, and the city itself read lessons aloud. These practices made the language a living thing not an abstract code but a breath shared between people.
They brought their worlds with them: lullabies, proverbs, bows, handshakes, meals wrapped in leaves, and jokes that landed with a warmth I could feel. When a student taught us a greeting from his village, the syllables hung in the air like offerings; when another shared a proverb with no Indonesian twin, we leaned closer to listen. Those moments braided our differences into a single tapestry. Mistakes were no longer failures but invitations faint footsteps toward each other.
There were days when silence lived in our circle. Homesickness sat like a weight at the back of a chair; anxiety hovered in hesitant responses. We learned to name those shadows gently. A short check-in, a shared cup of tea, a hand on a shoulder small ritual that said, I see you, you are seen. The classroom’s warmth was not accidental; it was built of countless tiny mercies. Inclusion became a poem of actions: subtitles and storyboards, paired voices that balanced one another, tasks that let the quietest hands speak through images. Sometimes they taught me. They corrected my pronunciation with laughter that felt more like love than correction. They fed me food whose flavors mapped to childhoods, and they offered words from tongues I could not yet speak. Those gifts unstitched the old teacher-student seam and rewove it into companionship. I brought grammar and structure; they returned maps of resilience and new ways to look at the world. Their stories of leaving, of longing, of stubborn hope shaped the classroom’s true curriculum.
I discovered that teaching is not merely giving knowledge but tending tender things. It asks patience like sunlight asks the morning. It asks presence: staying after class to listen, asking a hesitant student to tell one more sentence, celebrating mispronunciations as proof of trying. These actions, simple and human, taught the students and taught me how to be a better keeper of those fragile beginnings. When they began to speak with ease, it felt less like perfunctory success and more like watching a chorus learn a new song. Their laughter, their corrected mistakes, their shared festivities these were the harvest. They left with vocabulary, yes, but also with new roots planted in a place that once felt foreign. I left with a heart fuller and softer, heavy with gratitude for being allowed in their journeys.
BIPA became a doorway and a hearth. Language built the threshold; compassion kept the light inside. In teaching Indonesian, I discovered that education is at its most human when it is a shared passage home.
Beyond the Conference: Finding My Academic Home at HERDSA 2026
Beyond the Conference: Finding My Academic Home at HERDSA 2026
By Muhammad Maulana
Attending the Higher Education Research and Development Society of Australasia (HERDSA) Annual Conference 2026 at the National University of Singapore (NUS), together with the TATAL (Talking About Teaching and Learning) Pre-Conference Workshop, has been one of the most transformative experiences of my academic journey.
With nearly 1,000 participants from across the world, it was the largest international conference I have ever attended. Yet, what made the experience unforgettable was not its scale, but the people. I found myself surrounded by educators, researchers, academic developers, and leaders who shared a genuine commitment to improving higher education. They were not competing for recognition; they were learning from one another. Conversations were filled with curiosity, generosity, and a shared belief that better universities are built through collaboration rather than competition.
As someone who had only recently completed a master's degree, I initially wondered whether I truly belonged in such a community. Surrounded by professors, experienced scholars, and educational leaders, I felt like the least experienced person in many rooms. However, those feelings quickly disappeared. What I encountered instead was extraordinary humility. People listened, encouraged, and generously shared their ideas regardless of academic titles or career stages. It reminded me that academic excellence is measured not only by what we know, but also by our willingness to help others grow.
One of the most meaningful parts of the conference was participating in the TATAL Pre-Conference Workshop. Throughout the workshop, we were invited to reflect on a simple but profound question: What is the fundamental purpose of teaching? That question stayed with me long after the workshop ended.
As I reflected, I realized that I see educators as mountain guides. A mountain guide cannot climb the mountain for others. Instead, they prepare, support, encourage, and guide people through difficult paths. The journey remains challenging because growth cannot be outsourced. Learning requires effort, perseverance, and resilience. Yet, when students finally reach their own summits, they discover something much more valuable than success itself. They gain perspective, humility, and a deeper understanding of themselves. Standing at the top of a mountain reminds us not of how great we are, but of how much there is still to learn. Perhaps that is what meaningful education should ultimately cultivate.
The conference also gave me the opportunity to present my master's thesis through a Roundtable Discussion, a presentation format that was entirely new to me. Unlike traditional conference presentations, the roundtable transformed research into a conversation. Instead of presenting answers, I found myself exploring questions together with participants who openly challenged my assumptions, shared their own experiences, and enriched my thinking.
My presentation, Why Higher Education Often Separates Spiritual Identity and 21st Century Skills? emerged from a concern that many universities are becoming increasingly successful at developing graduates' competencies while paying less attention to the people those graduates are becoming. We often ask what skills students need for the future. Yet perhaps an equally important question is: Who are our students becoming?
In my research, I argue that higher education should not only equip students with critical thinking, communication, collaboration, and creativity, but should also create spaces where they can develop their spiritual intelligence, the capacity to draw upon meaning, values, morality, and existential reflection in navigating life. While this idea remains a proposition requiring further empirical investigation, I believe it offers one possible response to Isaac Asimov's timeless observation:
"The saddest aspect of life right now is that science gathers knowledge faster than society gathers wisdom."
The discussions that followed my presentation reminded me that knowledge grows richer when it is shared. Every comment, question, and perspective helped me see my own research differently.
Beyond the formal sessions, many conversations left lasting impressions. One particularly memorable discussion was with a presenter from the National University of Singapore, who explained how lecturers are intentionally organized into cross-disciplinary learning communities where they regularly reflect on teaching, exchange practices, and continuously improve together. Even more inspiring was learning that these collective experiences have been developed into a forthcoming Routledge book, Making Learning-Centered Teaching Work in Asia and Beyond.
What touched me most, however, was not the book itself but the generosity behind their work. When I expressed my interest, they immediately offered to visit our institution, share their experiences, and even seek funding from their own university so that financial limitations would not become barriers to collaboration. That moment quietly changed the way I think about academic communities. Excellent universities do not simply produce excellent research. They cultivate generosity.
As I reflected on these experiences, I could not help comparing them with some of the realities I encounter in Indonesia through my work as an academic developer. Across conversations with colleagues from different universities, we often share similar concerns: sustaining genuine commitment to teaching enhancement remains challenging, and professional conversations about teaching are sometimes overshadowed by administrative responsibilities.
This experience strengthened my belief that Indonesia needs more academic communities like HERDSA, spaces where educators regularly learn from one another, exchange ideas across institutions, and collectively improve higher education. Such communities cannot eliminate every challenge, but they can nurture the culture necessary for meaningful and sustainable change.
Perhaps one of the most unexpected moments of this journey came even before the conference began. Receiving the HERDSA Student Conference Grant was something I never truly expected. Having recently graduated with a master's degree, I assumed the grant would naturally be awarded to outstanding PhD students with much stronger academic portfolios. I submitted my application with hope, but very little expectation. When I received the notification that I had been selected, my first feeling was not pride, it was gratitude.
Looking back, I realize that if I had convinced myself that I was "not qualified enough" and never applied, I would have missed one of the most transformative experiences of my academic life. Sometimes, opportunities arrive not because we feel ready, but because we choose to take the first step despite our doubts.
None of this would have been possible without God's grace. I am deeply grateful for every opportunity He has opened for me. I am equally thankful to my mentors at UIII, especially Dr. Destina, my thesis supervisor, and Dr. Bambang, whose continuous encouragement, and countless last-minute recommendation letters, made this journey possible.
As I left Singapore, I realized that I was bringing home much more than conference memories. I was bringing home a renewed vision of what higher education can become. A place where teaching is deeply human. Where research is built through dialogue. Where generosity matters as much as expertise. And where communities grow stronger because people choose to help one another succeed. More than anything else, HERDSA gave me something I had not expected to find. It gave me a sense of belonging.
I sincerely hope that my journey with HERDSA does not end with this conference. Instead, I hope it marks the beginning of a lifelong commitment to this remarkable community, one where I can continue learning, contributing, and perhaps one day, following the inspiring footsteps of many senior colleagues, become a HERDSA Fellow myself.
As one keynote speaker reminded us through John C. Maxwell's words:
"The pessimist complains about the wind. The optimist expects it to change. The leader adjusts the sails."
After this week, I no longer want to wait for higher education to change. I simply want to become one of those who help adjust the sails.