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From April 7 through 18, the International School of Beijing held activities for two People, Planet, Purpose Weeks. In line with ISB’s Mission and guiding principles, the People, Planet, Purpose initiative prepares students and community members to make a positive impact on the world’s environmental and social challenges. It brings together ISB’s goal of empowering students with purpose and compassion and its commitment to sustainability.
One of the elements of the People, Planet, Purpose Weeks was an exhibition of artworks by ISB students, parents, staff, and alumni. Among the featured artists was Lalith Wijedoru (Class of 1997) with his work Sarong State of Mind, a striking visual exploration of cultural identity and storytelling for cross-cultural connection. Through abstract images of himself wearing sarongs, Lalith captured the essence of People, Planet, Purpose.
Lalith is a well-being consultant who uses storytelling to foster emotionally safe, reflective spaces in workplaces and communities. His Behind Your Mask project promotes authentic leadership, compassionate cultures, and deeper human connection. We talked to Lalith about his work and art.
What inspired your work and what was the process like?
The inspiration behind my work boils down to quality human connection. The World Health Organization has recognized the significance of loneliness in today’s disconnected world. I began my career as a pediatrician; now, I use stories to connect individuals and communities. Instead of healing with medicine, I now heal with stories.
The artwork I submitted centers on the sarong – a symbol of my Sri Lankan heritage – and celebrates identity within People, Planet, Purpose. Though not created with sustainability in mind, it was a digital piece with minimal material use. On reflection, maybe it should have been projected!
How has your time at ISB influenced your practice?
ISB shaped my worldview. My classmates’ parents worked in international organizations, so we were always exposed to diverse perspectives. Model United Nations gave me my first introduction to global issues like nuclear disarmament. I still remember giving a speech in a sarong on United Nations Day – something I now do regularly in public speaking.
The IB curriculum opened up the world. I read global literature, explored history deeply, and even tackled Sri Lanka’s ethnic conflict in my Extended Essay. ISB taught me how to approach cultural complexity with curiosity and respect – something that still drives my storytelling today.
How do you see sustainability showing up in your work?
Sustainability is in the choices I make. I believe in slow fashion; I still wear sarongs that are 25+ years old. I run my work digitally, travel by train when I can, and avoid paper use. The stories I collect also support community-led sustainable solutions – especially when it comes to climate justice.
For example, I worked in Sri Lanka with a solar panel project. I gathered stories from engineers, residents, and families waiting to move in. Hearing their voices reinforced how sustainability must be community-rooted and locally led.
How do art and storytelling drive change?
Stories move us. They help us feel, reflect, and shift our perspective. Lao Tzu said, “Watch your thoughts; they become words... destiny.” Art helps shape that destiny. It can challenge, inform, and inspire.
As a storyteller, I try to educate and entertain – whether it’s about climate, gender, or identity. I amplify voices from underrepresented groups because that diversity of perspective is essential. As I like to say, “When I’m on a quiz team, I want people who can answer the questions I can’t.”
What’s a story or project that made a lasting impact?
One project in Bangladesh stays with me. I collected stories from young people risking their lives dismantling ships. Their stories helped the International Labour Organization design a campaign that led to safer, more sustainable recycling practices. It was storytelling with real-world impact.
How do you build community in your work?
I host storytelling circles – especially for men – to create safe, vulnerable spaces. It’s deeply meaningful. Community isn’t just a topic I cover; it’s the core of my practice. Real change happens when we build trust and share stories, especially across lines of difference.
What advice would you give young creatives who want to make a difference?
Make us feel. If your work provokes emotion, it can change minds. Be authentic, clear, and bold. Don’t be afraid to tell the truth – even if it’s uncomfortable.
What’s your hope for the future of art and activism?
That art and architecture are powered by renewable energy and rooted in equity. That we continue to center the voices of those most impacted – whether that’s indigenous communities, youth, or the climate-displaced. And personally, I’ll keep working on projects that push hard truths to the surface – like the long-term impact of lockdowns on children.
What keeps you going when things get tough?
I focus on the ripples I can make. Not everything needs to be a wave. If we all shift just a little, that movement grows. That’s what keeps me inspired.
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