A Conversation With the Man Who Brought Albanian to Harvard

"We need to see each other as an opportunity, not as a threat."

Mr. Faton Limani.

Albanians have a longer history at Harvard than might first meet the eye. This presence ranges from Faik Konica and Fan Noli, arguably the two most important Albanian-American figures of the early twentieth century, to Ukshin Hoti, the brilliant philosopher and dissident who studied there decades later.

As is the case in most fields, though, the Albanian factor at Harvard has never been as significant as in the present day. Following the downfall of authoritarian regimes in Albanian-speaking territories and the subsequent waves of emigration to the United States, a considerable number of Albanians have consistently attended the university, generally hovering around twenty undergraduates at any time.

It is these developments that form the backdrop to the most significant accomplishment of Harvard’s Albanians. In the Fall semester of 2022, the University began offering courses in the Albanian language. Prompted by student request, the initiative was spearheaded on the administrative end by Eva Stathi Misho and Faton Limani, both of whom work at the university and hail from different regions of the Albanian-speaking world.

The story caught my attention when I first read it in French class several months ago. It was this curiosity which led to my interviewing Faton Limani, a widely accomplished Albanian and a significant driving force behind this historic initiative.

As I was trapped in D.C.’s summer heat and Faton was in Boston at the time of the interview, it was recorded virtually. It has since been edited for length and clarity.

Mr. Limani, by way of an introduction, could you give us a little background on your journey from Kosova to Harvard, both personally and professionally?

Thank you for the question. I was born and raised in the southwest of Kosova, in a little village called Brod in the small municipality of Shtërpcë. It’s in the highlands, the highest peak in that mountain range, around 2,500 meters above sea level. I pursued my education there until the war broke out in 1998-1999. In ‘99, I was actually a senior in high school. At that point, we fled as refugees to North Macedonia until the war ended, at which point I came back and graduated from high school.

During that time, I started working for the U.S. military camp in Ferizaj, which was close to my village. I worked night shifts as an interpreter in the construction sector and paused my schooling for a few years because I was working full-time. After three years, I went back to school at the University of Prishtina, studying Management in the Faculty of Economics, where I also earned a Master’s in Management and Informatics.

Around this time, from 2006 to 2010, my wife and I went to Iraq, working alongside the U.S.

military. By 2009, we were planning to come to the U.S. to further our education. That same year, we fortuitously won the Diversity Visa Lottery, which made the process a lot easier. The following year we came back to Kosova for about a year and a half, where I worked for a branch of an Albanian company in the IT sector. At the same time, I participated in local politics and ran as a candidate for parliament. I didn’t win (laughs), but it was a great experience. It made me think of what I need to do to become a better public servant and reconsider what I know and don’t know.

At the end of 2011, we moved to Boston, where I pursued a mid-career Masters’ in Public

Administration at the Harvard Kennedy School. I started the program in 2013 and stayed on as a Teaching Assistant for Adapted Leadership after graduating. I then started my consulting company, the Leadership Advancement Associates, eventually switching to the administration of Harvard University, where I still work.

In 2020, when COVID broke out, the whole university went online. My wife – who also studied at the Kennedy School and now also works at Harvard – and I began talking about ways to use this experience to contribute something to the community. That’s when we came up with the idea of starting an online Albanian school. We established the Albanian School - Illyria, completely online, in June of 2020. We mainly focus on Albanian language and culture classes, all based on a curriculum developed by the Ministries of Education of Albania and Kosova specifically for kids in the diaspora. Last year, we had around 130 students. It’s online and completely free for all diaspora kids, no matter where they are. The classes are live, with teachers based in Albania, Kosova and North Macedonia and we are just about to begin the new year.

One of the biggest dangers for us as a nation is the withering connection with the younger generations in the diaspora, who face the risk of losing the language and, once their parents are gone, any real connection to the land and culture. One of the major objectives of the school is to maintain their connection to the language. In this way, if they become successful in their respective fields and find that they want to invest somewhere outside of America, they are much more likely to invest in their homeland, thereby perpetuating its connection with the diaspora. So it becomes not only an emotional connection but also an economic one. This is one way we’re hoping to make a real contribution.

Now, at Harvard, undergraduate students have to fill a foreign language requirement before they graduate. Last year, while I was working as an administrator in the Department of Comparative Literature, a group of Albanian-American students, led by Edona Cosovic, sent an email on behalf of Albanian students asking whether there was an Albanian language course they could take to fulfill the requirement. My fellow department administrators knew that my colleague Eva Stathi Misho is Albanian, and forwarded the email to her. Eva then contacted me and let me know that there are Albanian-American students asking about an Albanian course, but that she was not aware of there being one. I let her know I was not aware of one either, and that I had thought about it before but never quite had the opportunity to look into the procedure.

Something that we had to our advantage was that you can build a much stronger case if you demonstrate student demand. As an administrator, I could have demanded a course, but I wouldn’t be listened to in the same way a student would. We began by seeing what the procedure is, first by speaking to the chair of my department, who proved very supportive. Being that mine is not a language department, the University asked us to find it a new home, which we found in Near Eastern Languages and Civilizations, where Eva works. They have many languages, including Yiddish – which is not Near Eastern. We thought this would be the most appropriate option for Albanian also, being that Albanian is not Near Eastern either, but the department has experience with unique languages like Yiddish. We started the first semester in Spring of 2023 and now we’re getting ready to begin the second one.

You mentioned Edona, the student who helped you throughout the founding process, which reminds me: what do you think is the most effective contribution that can be made by Albanian students in the diaspora, considering that we are one of the most vital demographics. I ask this especially considering that sometimes we might feel discouraged by the thought that not everyone is willing to make the same level of contribution.

True, but as in every social group – because I also teach leadership at St. Jude’s Hospital, which has a lot to do with social dynamics – not everyone is as active. You have those who are focused elsewhere, those who are simply busy with their own lives. Especially here in the United States, it’s not always easy to find the necessary time and bandwidth, but some still find a way to contribute, which is great. The expectation should not be that everyone should contribute to the same degree. We have to understand that we are human, we have other needs and we don’t know what battles people are fighting.

That’s one thing I tell every fellow Albanian I meet: if you find an Albanian, student or otherwise, who is contributing even 1% of their energy and time to the diaspora or the nation, I say we need to thank them. Why? You can start with yourself: in the United States we have choices with what we want to do with our time, energy and resources. So those people who

chose to contribute even 1%, they chose to do so with their free will, and that’s so important. I mean, if you contribute 50% of your energy, even better, but even if it’s 1%, we need to thank and encourage them because we see how busy and dynamic life is here. If people find a little bit of time, energy, resources or know-how to help Albanians in the diaspora or in the homeland, we should be very thankful and supportive of them because they chose to do so.

And it’s important that we find one other. Like your work with this site: you’re trying to sensitize non-Albanians about our history, culture, our successful people in different fields, about the soul of our nation, which is just as important. We’re a relatively small nation, and this is what I tell my fellow Albanians: we need to see each other as an opportunity, not as a threat. Because back home, sometimes you might find a mentality of jealousy, of envy. I grew up there, I know it.

I tell them: if, say, Enri is successful, we’re all better off. Look at, for example, Mira Murati. Every time I tell someone she comes from Albania, they find it so interesting, how she came from this small country and revolutionized AI. If one of us is better off, we’re all better off. This is why I tell my fellow Albanians, especially the younger generations, that we need to support each other, in any way we can. And if you can’t, like I said, it’s okay because you have a choice and alternatives. But if you cannot support someone, at least don’t become an obstacle for them. We can do that much. You can stay on the side and say, for example, let Enri take care of this because he is talented at this. And maybe I can’t help him but at least I won’t become an obstacle.

This is very important. And if we can encourage this kind of spirit, I think our next generation will be much more successful than us. And in this way not only will we be better off as a nation, but we’ll have so much more to contribute to the rest of humanity. Because I don’t mean any of this in a nationalistic or selfish way. To the contrary, I think we Albanians have so much to give to the world. We just have to work together more and support the ones who are really talented and want to achieve good things. And you heard my story, it’s not like any success I’ve had has fallen out of the sky. I’m a product of my family, my nation, my teachers and everybody who’s touched me along the way, from constructive critiques to advice to material help. All of that combined has brought me here. That’s why I want to give back, I feel a sense of obligation, especially to my nation, because I know it’s not not all simply my merit. And we’re not going to be here forever, Enri. Our duty is to make the world a better place by pushing the needle forward a little bit, leaving it a little bit better than we found it for the next generation. That’s our job, I think.

And we have to do this together. The good part is that we find each other. I always tell people: start something small in the right direction. Then you will find people doing similar things who have the same purpose, who have the will and courage, and you will grow by combining your efforts.

This connects well with my next question. We do seem to work a lot harder and be more efficient in the diaspora. You can chalk this up to the opportunities and meritocracy here, but that sense of jealousy also seems to be a lot less pronounced and there seems to be a much stronger sense of collaboration among one another. From your experience in founding and organizing important community initiatives, what advice would you have to bring that spirit of collaboration back to the Balkans and help Albanians integrate? I ask this partially because I have very vivid childhood memories of school field trips which took us to Shkodra, Kruja, Durrës – and went no further. This always made me think that there must be some way to better integrate culturally, economically, educationally. I’m reminded of the initiative to create a common encyclopedia, but also the need for field work across borders, etc. What practical advice would you have to that end?

I have a WhatsApp group called Albanian Veritas, and there is an interesting story behind it. We started it with a couple of friends a few years ago. One of them was doing a postdoc here at Harvard and the other two were pursuing Master’s degrees. We started the group just to meet for coffee once a week, and one of the friends, the one doing the postdoc, named it Albanian Veritas. Then, when they left, the postdoc to teach at another U.S. university and the master’s students to return home, the group was left to me. And they told me to do whatever I wanted with it (chuckles). So what I did was begin to expand it, not only to Albanian Harvard students and staff, but to MIT and other universities, then to young professionals in the area. By now the group has grown to around 150 people.

One of the activities I organize is a monthly gathering for them at Harvard Square, a networking event of sorts. This is done for a few reasons: one, I want Albanians to help each other, to share know-how, resources, whatever is needed. Secondly, and this is also very important: if we go back and look at Albanians as a whole, while we are the same people with the same history, for the last 100 years we have been living separately. As we all know, Albanians in Albania were completely isolated, then there were Albanians in the former Yugoslavia, in Greece, in the diaspora, even the Arbëreshë in southern Italy.

So because of the historical situation, because of politics and ideology, we have been living separately; under different systems, with different ways of doing things and dealing with challenges. This is why I say that we are still in the process of getting to re-know each other, familiarizing ourselves with one-another.

For example, my wife is from Tirana, and for the same problem, we have very different approaches (laughs). This is because we grew up under different systems, with different values and ideologies – also taking into account the role of dictatorship and authority. Growing up in Kosova, I felt that my sense of identity as an Albanian was threatened. At that time, there were really three choices: you could assimilate, risk your life, or emigrate.

In Albania under the regime, it was an entirely different challenge. While in Kosova it was an external threat, in Albania you were your own enemy, and this has affected us in very different ways. For example, in Kosova – as in virtually every group setting where the threat is external – there was much more group cohesiveness. In Albania, it was the opposite, and the threat being internal has created so much distrust within society.

If you come to Kosova, you will see that most people start from a position of trust, and we can begin collaboration based on that trust. In short, you are innocent until proven guilty. In Albania, there is a very different approach: generally, you are guilty until proven innocent.

We really need to be patient and not judge one another, because we don’t fully know what the other person has been through. This is one of the reasons I organized this group, because we are still learning about and getting to know each other. This is a very important process, and it will take time. In the cultural aspect, we have done pretty well, mainly because the media has done a good job of integrating, especially in the fields of music and other forms of local culture. In other aspects, we need to do much better, particularly economically and in aspects of everyday life. I think there are still a lot of economic opportunities, because we can be very complementary. While Albania has so much potential with tourism, in Kosova young people are very involved in the IT sector. There are opportunities in agriculture, too, which can grow much more sophisticated in Kosova, becoming secondary and tertiary.

But like you said, field work is crucial in this, and universities can play a big role here. Just look at the role universities have played throughout the American story. We can do the same thing, through cooperation, through universities developing branches: Albanian universities in Kosova and Kosova’s universities in Albania. We can and should start business together, especially young people who might have complementary know-how, experiences and skills. At some point it will become natural for young generations to work together. It is the role of our generations to communicate and break those barriers.

Of course, there are also social connections, marriage being perhaps the most important. I’m

reminded of the song by Sabri Fejzullahu, “Do ta kemi Shqipërinë” (We will have Albania). It’s quite an old song, probably from the beginning of the ‘90s. He has a very interesting way of showing how we can come together as a nation, the premise being that unity will come once young people from the North and South, and both sides of the border, fall in love.

Another aspect which I find very important is that, coming from a small country, we lack a little bit of self-confidence. A lot of times, when I go to Kosova or Albania, what kids say most often is: “what can we do?” There’s a certain lack of confidence which I don’t think should be there. You see it yourself, Enri: what is it that students of other nations can do that you can’t? We can compete with them and do even bigger things. Again, look at Mira Murati as an example.

Our youth, especially those back at home, need to have more confidence. They can do bigger things, not only focusing on the market in Albania and Kosova, which, true, are rather small. There is so much more they can do outside of that, and today they don’t have to come to New York or San Francisco to do business. It can be done on a laptop from their village in the middle of Albania. We need to instill this into them, because this lack of self-confidence and the lack of opportunities in local markets eventually might lead to the envy and reluctance to collaborate that we talked about.

I know students at Harvard and other institutions who come in a little shy, but after a semester or so their self-confidence is through the roof because they see that they can do even better than what they see around them. I know Albanians, their energy and passion. Once they find an opportunity, that energy really bursts forth.

But we need to talk to our youth more. One way I’m doing this is by virtually teaching

leadership at a private university in Kosova, trying to bring cutting-edge knowledge from

different fields, in my case in the social sciences. The younger generations in the diaspora can also find a way to transfer their experience and know-how. It’s not easy but you can find a way to collaborate, and I understand that the economic priorities are not the same. This takes a little bit of sacrifice in a sense, because spending time there will not be as lucrative. But if you are really willing to contribute, you will take that sacrifice. And this transfer of experience, or simply talking to them, goes a long way, because when young Albanians put their minds to something, they tend to come out on top.

You independently covered much of what I was going to ask about, which I much appreciate (laughs). Outside of students in the diaspora, could you delve a bit more into what advice you would have for young Albanians who feel a sense of – as you said – obligation to make a contribution. I ask this especially to look for ways of counteracting the sense of myopia and hopelessness that envelops many young Albanians at home. What has worked best in your experience?

Like I said, start small. I know we come from a nation of big stories and big heroes, which

sometimes creates this pressure to only do big things. I’m sure if you ask Mira Murati, she would tell you she didn’t start with Chat GPT. She started, in all likelihood, by learning to code or something else small. With persistence and work, of course, things evolve. Rumi had a saying: “Start and the path will appear.” You will learn along the way, because everything comes through learning and know-how.

The confidence we spoke about is important, not letting the fact that you come from a small

country hold you back. Self-belief is important because that path will be hard: real learning, good and truthful things take time, energy and failure.

But for Albanians everywhere, we need to love each other more. I used to work with Professor Cornel West, who said something in his work which stuck with me: “Justice is what love looks like in public.” This means that if we create good public services, good institutions, infrastructure and education, that is love for one another. That is why we create good institutions and countries, because we want to make one another’s lives easier.

This is why the justice system doesn’t function in Albania. It is a lack of love for one another.

And again, not all of us have to be Skënderbej, but we can be the Skënderbej of our field, be it education or healthcare or security. We can be the Mother Tereza of our vocation and calling, because it is very important to recognize that each of us has his own role and ability to contribute to one another’s wellbeing. If I teach you very well, for example, that helps your wellbeing – and that’s not only a duty, it’s a way of showing love for one another. And that’s really what defined Mother Tereza, loving everyone regardless of their circumstances. We have these examples, so we need to care for and support one another, our public life and our public spaces more, because all that we do comes back to us at the end of the day.

In short, we need to support and be much more compassionate with one another. Yes, of course, we need to hold politicians and those in important roles accountable, but we don’t have to hate one another because of it.

And we can all do small things for one another and for the nation, which will add up. We don’t have to all look at any one person and say: “he is the one.” We can all do our part and it will give its results, even if CNN doesn’t feature you.

Growing up, my grandfather would say, whenever you do good, just do it and “hudhe mbrapa,” essentially meaning chuck it behind you and forget about it, and you will find it before you. The idea behind it is that you shouldn’t do good for any specific interest, but simply for the sake of doing it. At the end of the day, we won’t be in this world forever. We need to leave this nation better than we found it for one another, and for our children. Not only for ourselves, because I really do believe that Albanians have a lot to give to humanity. We pride ourselves with historical figures who have done a lot not only for us but all of humanity. It’s simply something we have to bring forward, to practice more, because I know we have these virtues in our culture.

Absolutely. Now, for the last and in my opinion most important question, what is your favorite Albanian food?

That’s a very good question (laughs). I have a lot of favorites.

It’s difficult, isn’t it?

There is flija, beans with dry meat, byrek, baklava. We have a lot of good ones.

I assume you’ve tried fërgesa.

Of course! My wife and mother-in-law make it Tirona-style. I know it’s a dish of Shqipëria e Mesme (Central Albania), but it’s also very unique to Tirana. I love it.

What about jufka, the noodles?

Yes, of course, those too. You can take byrek as an example, there are a lot of local specialities

where I come from. It’s interesting because it’s the same food but each region and sometimes each village adds its own unique ingredient and way of making it. That, I think, is what makes our culture unique, because we have general commonalities, but then when you get down into the micro level, you find small differences and truly unique variations.

You see that not only in food but also in our traditional clothing, music, even in our accents! For example, I’m from a certain village, and in the very next village they have a different way of pronouncing a very similar word. This only makes our culture more interesting and unique.

This reminds me of a story in my own family. As you know, we have this food called pite, not exactly pita as in Greek cuisine but made out of dough, more bread-like. On my mother’s side of the family, we call it kile. I don’t know how the name came about, only that my great-grandmother coined it. Once when I was little, a cousin from my father’s side came and called it pite. I vividly remember getting so offended – how could she call it that!– until my mother explained that it’s just a peculiarity of our family, that everyone else does indeed call it pite.

That’s really interesting because, I told you I teach leadership, and one of the most important aspects of leadership is identity, which shapes the way we view the world. The process by which identity is created is very interesting. Food, for example, is a big aspect of our national identity. Being Albanian means you eat flija, to you it means you eat kile.

By the time we’re 25, we internalize these identities so much that we think this is who we are; so that if you tell me this is pite and not kile, I get offended (laughs). That’s how personally we take it. I also teach people how to create agency from their identities, where they can say “yes, I am but at the same time I’m not entirely this one identity.”

Mr. Limani, it’s been a pleasure. Thank you very much for your time.

My pleasure, Enri.