We Too Have Dreams: Design, Storytelling and Hope in Cox's Bazar

By Hanna Ji

Hanna Ji is a designer and recent graduate of the Master of Design in Communication Design programme at the University of Arkansas. In 2026, she travelled to Cox's Bazar as part of her thesis research, collaborating with Rohingyatographer, the Refugee and Migration Lab (RML), and the Rohingya Arts Club to facilitate creative storytelling workshops with Rohingya adolescent girls. Her research explores how participatory design and storytelling can support educational opportunities, self-expression, and future aspirations among displaced communities.

This photo essay reflects on that experience, from her first impressions of the camps to the workshops, conversations, and exhibition that followed in Arkansas.

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During my ten years working as a designer, I often found myself asking: How can design be used to make the world a better place? That question eventually led me to pursue a Master of Design in Communication Design at the University of Arkansas.

I wanted to explore how design might help address real-world challenges and create positive social impact. I was particularly interested in the power of storytelling and participatory design to amplify voices that are often unheard and to create opportunities for communities to actively shape their own futures.

What began as a broad interest in the global refugee crisis eventually became a journey that led me halfway around the world to the Rohingya refugee camps in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh. My thesis research explores how participatory storytelling experiences might help expand educational opportunities for adolescent Rohingya girls. Through the support of Rohingyatographer, Enayet from the Rohingya Arts Club and the Refugee and Migration Lab, I was able to spend time in the camps conducting research, facilitating workshops, and learning directly from community members through their stories and experiences.

When I first arrived in the refugee camps in Cox’s Bazar, I was not sure what to expect. I had spent months reading reports, reviewing statistics, and speaking with people who had worked with the Rohingya community. But no amount of research could fully prepare me for being there in person.

The first thing I noticed was the scale of the camps. As far as I could see, bamboo and tarpaulin shelters stretched across the hillsides. Narrow pathways wound through the camp, connecting homes, learning centers, and shops. Yet beyond the size of the camps, what stayed with me most were the people. Children waved and called out as we walked through the pathways. Neighbours sat together outside their shelters talking and sharing tea. Despite the many challenges of displacement, I witnessed strong communities built on care and resilience.

One of the most meaningful parts of my visit was the opportunity to facilitate creative storytelling workshops with young adolescent girls. The activities were intentionally designed to support confidence, connection, and hope through creative expression and positive social interaction. By creating space for the girls to reflect on their experiences, share their stories, and imagine their futures, the workshops sought to strengthen their sense of agency and possibility.

At first, many of the participants seemed shy and uncertain. They hesitated when asked simple questions about themselves or to make decisions on their own. This was understandable. The workshops asked them to do something they may not often be invited to do: to reflect on who they are and express themselves creatively.

Through collage self-portraits, the girls explored how they saw themselves. Through painting on umbrellas, they created symbols of their hopes and dreams. These umbrellas will serve as reminders of their aspirations during the monsoon season. As the workshops continued, I began to notice small changes. The girls became more comfortable with me and the activities.

Conversations grew louder. They were laughing, and they began helping one another and proudly showing their work. Watching these moments unfold reminded me that creativity can be a powerful way to build connection and confidence.

In my conversations with some of the girls in the community, the most memorable ones were about dreams.

I met girls who wanted to become doctors, teachers, engineers, and artists. Their dreams were often connected to the needs they saw around them. One girl wanted to become a doctor so that her mother could receive care from a female physician. Their aspirations were rooted in care for others and a desire to contribute to their communities.

Hearing about the girls’ aspirations while witnessing the challenges and barriers that they face in continuing education was heartbreaking. It reinforced my belief that education is a fundamental human right and every child deserves the chance to learn, to dream, and to imagine a future of their own. I felt strongly that more opportunities like the creative storytelling workshop were needed to help strengthen hope and the ability to imagine a better future.

Another key takeaway was that, in addition to creating participatory experiences at the individual level, it is just as important to address the broader systems that shape girls’ access to education. While existing efforts and programs by humanitarian organisations are already creating positive changes within the community, co-design sessions that bring together key stakeholders and help create collaborative spaces could help align the programs, identify gaps, and co-create strategies that are appropriate and sustainable, increasing the likelihood of long-term implementation and impact.

After returning to Arkansas, I organised an exhibition titled We too have dreams, which brought together photographs from the camps, artwork created by Rohingya girls and local girls in Northwest Arkansas, audio recordings from the field, and artwork by Rohingya artists provided by Rohingyatographer. The exhibition became an opportunity to share what I had learned and to create a space where others could engage with the stories and aspirations of the Rohingya girls.

Looking back, this experience challenged and expanded my understanding of what design can be. I arrived in Cox’s Bazar with questions about how design might contribute to addressing complex social issues.

I left with a deeper appreciation for the importance of listening, building relationships, and creating spaces where people can share their stories and imagine possibilities together.

The photographs and artwork in this essay document only a small part of that journey. From the refugee camps in Cox’s Bazar to the exhibition space in Arkansas, this project has been shaped by the voices and aspirations of the people who generously shared their time and stories with me.

Throughout my time in the camps, I met so many girls with big dreams. Their dreams were no different from those of children anywhere else in the world. Yet for many Rohingya girls, access to education remains one of the greatest barriers to pursuing those futures. Expanding educational opportunities is not something that can be accomplished by any one individual or organization alone. But when communities, educators, humanitarian organisations, policymakers, and designers work together to challenge harmful norms, support existing initiatives, and create more pathways for learning, we can help create the conditions for hope and a future in which every girl has the chance to pursue her dreams.