Every December, as snow blanketed Geneva, a particular apartment would come alive with warmth and conversation. The host, a distinguished professor of international trade law, opened her home to a diverse group of PhD students and their families. These gatherings were not just seasonal festivities; they were moments of connection amidst the often solitary pursuit of academic research.

When Gabrielle Marceau accepted me as her PhD student, she made it very clear that participating in the seminars she held a few times per year at her home was essential. However, at that moment, I could not fully grasp the impact that those gatherings would have in my life and work.

Gabrielle Marceau had been a reference for me for many years. Long before meeting her, I had been reading her academic work, and admiring her trajectory at the World Trade Organization (WTO) from a distance. Becoming her PhD student made me feel privileged, and I still remember how excited I felt at the time. But it was just when I participated in the first seminar that I fully took in how generous she was to all of us. Not only did she open her home, prepare countless cups of coffee or tea, have lunch ready for us, but she also invited other stellar members of the international trade law community to discuss and criticise our work. She sat us all around her table to present our ideas, listen to each other and engage in debate. I will never forget how elated I felt the first time I attended, and how these seminars always instilled in me positive energy and excitement to continue my work.

The life of a doctoral student is often a solitary journey, marked by intense research, looming deadlines, and the constant pursuit of scholarly excellence. In Geneva, where students from across the globe converge to delve into the complexities of international trade law, the pressure is palpable. Yet, the seminars were not only an opportunity to expose our work, test our ideas and develop our own voices, but also a space where the passage of time was measured not by thesis milestones but by shared laughter and cultural exchanges.

Every year, the last seminar was followed by the Christmas meeting, when Gabrielle welcomed our families to celebrate the festivities together. As we gathered around the table to discuss our works, the familiar strains of John Lennon’s song<fnref n="1" /> prompted reflection. In the midst of celebration, we couldn’t help but consider our progress, or lack thereof, on our theses. The festivities highlighted not only our shared camaraderie but also the relentless march of deadlines and the ever-present pressure of academic achievement: “So, this is Christmas (again). And what have you done?”

Yet, those gatherings were more than just reminders of work left unfinished. They brought together individuals from diverse backgrounds—spanning the globe—united by a common pursuit of understanding international trade law. Around Gabrielle’s table, discussions flowed freely, touching on trade policies, cultural experiences, and personal stories. In a world increasingly marked by division, which often overshadows dialogue and promotes “us versus them” mentalities, such gatherings underscored the importance of dialogue and mutual respect. Like the song, Gabrielle’s generosity in opening her home and gathering people from all around the world at her table has impacted me as a beacon of hope, demonstrating that amidst diversity, common ground can be found—not just in academic discourse but also in shared human experiences.

Among her many qualities, Gabrielle Marceau has the remarkable power to bring people together. To this day, the memory of those December gatherings remains. They remind me that beyond treaties and negotiations, the essence of international law lies in human connection and the ongoing effort to find common ground.

<footnote n="1">Happy Xmas (War is Over), John Lennon and Yoko Ono, 1971.</footnote>