By Francesco Fedele
In the spring of 1975, my sister and I were just two of many bright-eyed students walking the halls of what was then a much smaller ISB — though to us, it already felt like a world in itself. I graduated from eighth grade that year, which was the highest class at the time, while my sister followed two years later, in 1977. We didn’t know it then, but those years at the International School of Belgrade would shape the rest of our lives.
Now, 50 years later, we returned to ISB in April 2025 — not as students, but as grown professionals with a lifetime of stories, accomplishments, and yes, a few more laugh lines. But the moment we stepped back onto campus, something magical happened: time bent. We weren’t just visitors — we were kids again, running through the corridors in our minds, sharing secrets with friends from every corner of the globe, and singing our school hymn with all the sincerity and slightly off-key harmony we could muster.
“Coming far from many nations, met on common ground, In our work and recreation, Brotherhood we found.”
Those lyrics weren’t just words. They became the rhythm of our lives.
It was at ISB that we first learned English (and a bit of French) — not just as a subject, but as a passport to the world. More importantly, we learned how to live in an international environment. Our classrooms were microcosms of the world — a German girlfriend, a Portuguese seatmate, an Australian lab partner, a Serbian teacher with a British accent. We navigated cultures as effortlessly as we navigated algebra homework (okay, almost as effortlessly).
Those early experiences gave us the tools and confidence to dream big. I went on to become a project manager for EU-funded innovation projects, building bridges — metaphorical and sometimes literal — across Europe. It also paved the way for my involvement with the board of Toastmasters International, a nonprofit that teaches public speaking and leadership to members in 150 countries. My sister? She reached for the stars — quite literally — and built her career at ESA, the European Space Agency. Every time we sit in a meeting room filled with people from different nations, speaking different languages, solving shared challenges, we think back to ISB. That’s where it all started.
Visiting again after half a century was like opening a time capsule — only it wasn’t dusty. It was alive. The school had grown, evolved, expanded — but the warmth, the laughter, the spirit? Still there. We saw it in the way the students laughed in the hallways, in the welcome we received from the staff, and in the quiet sense of pride that lives in the school’s DNA.
We were greeted not as relics of the past, but as part of an ever-living community. There was something profoundly moving about sitting in a classroom again, hearing echoes of our younger selves and imagining the future that awaits today’s students.
To those walking ISB’s halls today: treasure this time. These friendships, this global family, this shared laughter — they will shape your life in ways you can’t imagine yet. Someday, maybe 50 years from now, you’ll return too. And you’ll find that a piece of your heart never really left.
For us, ISB wasn’t just a school. It was a launchpad. A playground. A proving ground. A home.
And after all these years, it still is.
FF
A Side Note from My Sister
"I remember the scent of the classrooms and the sound of footsteps echoing through the stairwells — it all came rushing back like it was yesterday. ISB didn’t just prepare me academically; it gave me the courage to be curious, to explore, to aim high. I carried that spirit with me to the European Space Agency, and I carry it still. Returning to ISB was like reconnecting with an old friend — the kind that knows exactly who you are, even after all this time."
Isabella Fedele