Malala-style Grit and Other Responses to a Rant

It was with a fast pulse and flushed face that I pressed ‘publish’ on yesterday’s post. Whenever there is a passionate rant there is a chance that it won’t be received as intended.

I am grateful to the readership of Communicating Across Boundaries for the thoughtful responses and sharing that the post received. I’ve picked some of these comments to highlight in today’s post.

Jessica wrote: I had hoped you’d blog about Malala! I read her story yesterday and it hit home for me… my ESL students this year are mostly all from the Middle East. Every day I learn from them. I learn what it means to sacrifice for something you believe in. To give your LIFE for something that some students in America would do anything to skip out on! I spoke with one of my students this week, and he shared that he feels like we Americans don’t know what it is to be free; we’ve grown up with freedom all of our lives. He hasn’t. He knows what it means to be oppressed…to fight and dream and sacrifice for something we consider so basic. When he spoke of freedom, it was as if he were cradling the most precious jewel in his hands. And he spoke with tears of how he would rather die than to give that up. We Americans have sold ourselves so cheaply… and we live for the basest of causes. I think it’s time we get some Malala-style grit, bravery and passion!

My brother Ed responded with this: 

Oh my – no wonder my laptop was smoking this morning… (!)

But in response to your line, “a 14 year old girl is a threat in what universe?” I can only think of Psalm 8:2 – “Through the praise of children and infants, you have established a stronghold against your enemies…” and I Corinthians 1: 27ff “But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are…”

It is the 14-year-old brave ones, and a million others who have none of the power or wealth of this world but still stand up for what is right and just and good and beautiful who will win in the end. But there’s going to be a lot of pain between now and the end…

Finally Brother James with three phrases that are known to many – an appropriate benediction: 

I heard her story this morning.

Lord, have mercy.
Christ have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

And that’s it – may we go with Mercy into this day. Thanks for reading.

If you missed yesterday’s post, please take a look at 14-Year-Old Courage to get context for today’s article.

14 year-old Courage

Warning: This is a rant

Malala Yousafzai is 14. She lives in the Swat Valley of Pakistan, a place where our family spent many lovely vacations. And while Swat is lovely for vacationers, it’s not an easy place to live by any standard.

Malala is not your typical 14-year-old. At age 11 she was writing a blog diary for the BBC under a pseudonym and two years later she was nominated for the International Children’s Peace Prize for her work promoting the right for girls in Pakistan to get an education.

And yesterday she was shot — shot in the head and the neck and is now fighting for life at a hospital in Peshawar. The Taliban proudly claimed the shooting; she has been on a hit list for over a year for her work promoting education and rights for girls. They saw her as a threat, a threat to an ideology and way of life, a threat to who they are. You can read about the shooting here.

It got me thinking about a lot of things. About courage — she stood so boldly for what she believed. About extremism — a 14 year-old girl is a threat in what universe? About apathy — the 14-year-olds I know are interested in boys, sex, Justin Bieber, and New Direction. I’ll take Malala any day of the week. Standing up for education is somewhat nobler than looking forward to getting birth control pills from your school nurse.

I know that’s harsh and I want it to be. 

Because I’m a little tired of this country and our whining. I’m tired of our apathy. I’m tired of watching teenagers and adults who don’t give a rat’s ass for the world they live in and I see it every day. I’m tired of us thinking we have all the answers for a world where 14 year-olds get shot for believing in education. I’m tired of the election and tired of not having worthy leaders. I’m tired of a world that condemns the attack one day, and goes back to being just as awful the next.

I’m tired of myself being a part of this because I’d like to be a little more like Malala. I’d like to be braver, I’d like to stand up boldly for what I believe, I’d like a good dose of 14 year-old courage.

How about you? What are you tired of? What do you want more courage to change? 

Readers – Thanks to CAB reader, Debbie Wood, here is a link to an interview with Malala and her father when she was eleven.

http://portal.sliderocket.com/BBVXH/Hoshyar-Foundation

Fear over Food

Pakistan was often on the cover of the NY Times the weeks before our departure for flood relief last year, so it made sense that the most common question I was asked before leaving was “But aren’t you afraid?” Suggestion is powerful and a week before leaving I found myself texting Carol with the message “Do you have any premonitions?” Carol is one of the wisest women  I know and I felt instant relief when she messaged back:  “No!  Why?” It should be noted that I didn’t message God to ask him…but with infinite wisdom he used the cell phone and Carol as my reassurance.   On arrival, in learning we were one kilometer from the 26 burnt out NATO trucks that had been attacked a week prior and half a kilometer from the mosque where the Taliban responsible for that attack had hidden just before their capture, I nominated Carol & myself for the “COOL MOMS OF THE YEAR AWARD”.   Even in that I felt no fear until the day we went to what we called “The Railway Camp”.

Both Carol and I were working on barely 3 hours of sleep a night.  The change in time-zones combined with exhaustion and frequent power outages was taking its toll on us.  It was in that spirit that we drove into the Railway Camp.  We had driven an hour and a half through badly flooded areas, at one point passing 125 brightly painted trucks in a traffic jam that cannot be described adequately.  We headed off the main road and drove a quarter-mile along the railway tracks until we finally arrived.

There were crowds awaiting our arrival.  Along with the medical camps, five men – four from the Marwari tribe in Pakistan and one Canadian would survey families on their needs.  The number one need was usually food, the second medical care.  80 pound food bags were distributed according to the families on the list.  These bags contained oil, rice, tea, sugar, flour, lentils, and spices.  Tension would rise as soon as the food truck arrived.  Hungry people wanted to make sure they received their fair share.  This particular day the tension was high.  That coupled with the isolation of the village and the crowds gave me a feeling of unease that began to root itself as fear.

Roosters, chickens and people wandered over to our pharmacy area and unlike earlier camps, we were not able to set up a system where crowds couldn’t close in on us.  In the middle of this came food distribution and fighting erupted – someone had stolen a bag.  Such was the desperation in a group of hungry people who had the responsibility of feeding hungry families that the anger was palpable.  Months later, while watching a group of ducks fight over food at a pond in Kensington Park, I remembered the struggle. Watching birds fight over food is easy, watching people is terrifying. Our men were in the middle of this trying to calm the crowd and get to the root of who had taken the food bag.  I looked at Carol and tried to concentrate on our job but the feelings of vulnerability and fear were strong.

Fear is a difficult emotion.  The physical manifestations of a racing heart, shaky voice, and trembling extremities can cause anxiety to increase and result in a cycle that spirals out of control.  I began to feel some of those physical symptoms as we tried to move the clinic forward, taking care of real medical needs in people unaware of what was going on inside my head and heart.

My fear was legitimate, but nothing compared to the fear of so many in the camp – fear of being unable to feed their families, fear of houses collapsing, fear of robbers taking what little they had left, fear of one more disaster.

As I’ve followed some of the news stories on Somalia and the famine, said to be the worst in East Africa in 60 years, I have thought about this camp and event many times. Words like “Food insecurity” are used by relief agencies. Those words are a perfect description. They don’t only describe the lack of food, they describe hungry people – insecure and full of fear. Fear because they are unable to feed those for whom they are responsible, fear because they know they could die. My time in Pakistan was the first time I have worked with people who are truly hungry. It is sobering to be from the land of Twinkies and fast food and realize that 80 pound bags of food can feed a family for a month.

Just yesterday the UN announced that famine had spread to another area in Somalia and warns that aid efforts have to be “scaled up”.

We can’t underestimate the scale of the crisis,” said Mark Bowden, the United Nations humanitarian coordinator for Somalia. “Southern Somalia is the epicenter of the famine area in the Horn of Africa. It’s the source of most of the refugees, and we need to refocus our efforts.” from NY Times September 5,2011

I’m not in a place now where I can go and physically help and I sometimes question my faith in situations where I am so far removed from the actual disaster. The question then becomes this: In my helplessness and faith can I pray Isaiah 41:13 for Somalia and Pakistan?

For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.

Guest Post – Analyzing the Current Approach to Change in Afghanistan

One of the benefits of being a third culture kid is enjoying the wide network of people who come into our lives. For many of us who grew up in Pakistan, the network spans generations, countries, occupations and more. We have one thing in common and that is growing up in Pakistan and attending Murree Christian School, but that one thing has too many subplots to count. The wealth of experience and knowledge among this group of third culture kids is nothing less than amazing. Ambassadors, chiefs of party for NGO’s, scholars and more all bring their unique background into their work, providing much needed perspective in a world that tries to find easy answers and oversimplify complex issues.

A week ago, Samuel Lammi, a fellow third culture kid gave me permission to re-post a note he had written on Facebook. It is a thoughtful piece about Afghanistan. Samuel recently held an internship as Assistant to Officer of Political Affairs in the Embassy of Afghanistan. Take a look at the piece and see what you think. Add to the conversation in the comment section!


A few ideas about the current approach to change in Afghanistan and it’s shortcomings by Samuel Lammi

I was raised in the most tumultuous time in Afghanistan’s modern history during brutal civil war of the 1990’s. My primary education happened largely during the Islamic regime of the Taliban in a small expat school. I had to attend a boarding school in neighbouring Pakistan – Murree Christian School – for my secondary schooling. As the result of a terrorist attack on our school, we relocated to Thailand for two years to recover. The last four years until my graduation, I was back in Pakistan – yet it was a completely different Pakistan to the one I had known in the 1990’s.

I believe I have a unique perspective into foreign intervention in Afghanistan as my personal experience in Afghanistan is balanced by “war years” of bitter and ravaging civil war to control the country (1990-2001) and the “coalition years” and the so-called “nation-building process.” (2001-2008). I grew up in the middle of the Afghan war as my parents and their co-workers assisted those in desperate need. We were not only learning about the people we were helping, but also assimilating with the Afghans as we too – though more secure – were victims. Subsequently, we are frequently referred to as “the ones who stayed;” as Afghans who could afford it and had the opportunity, fled the country.

This perspective enables me to see events in Afghanistan from different viewpoints. I see the views of various Afghan ethnic groups, and various foreign interest groups, such as governments, NGOs, and militaries.

About 60 years ago, Afghanistan “opened-up” to the world, and immediately it saw a dangerous influx of foreign influence penetrate this traditional and conservative society. After these years and a few generations later, the society is unchanged yet this warring and proud country is on its knees after 30 years of vicious war. This has resulted in the common belief that Afghanistan is just another “god-forsaken,” tribal, anti-democratic and terrorist failed-state. Contrary to this belief, there is a too-common pattern to be seen with voracious and hegemonic world powers. They simplistically assume they can ravage the natural resources or take advantage of the geopolitics of a country for their own benefit, all under the pretence of bringing “change” to the backward places of the earth making them democratic, egalitarian and educated.

The recurring themes of the recent history of Afghanistan are comparable to the modern history of the Middle-East (1830’s to 1950’s). The pattern starts with the secure Western powers seeing an opportunity to exploit something – natural resources, geography, people – or everything. Next – supposing they have limited opportunity – they enter the desired country rather hastily to seek opportunities. However, with no prior interaction with the country, there is no grassroots knowledge of the local culture and language. This ignorance only affirms “superiority thinking” where the newcomers start to assert themselves through bringing “higher values” to “modernise” the culture. At first, modernisation is welcome, but soon the pace of the transformation is so rapid that the locals start to resist the change. Subsequently the foreigners with their ideologies have lost their “innocence” and come under suspicion from the locals. Upset, the foreigners become slack and their ulterior motives emerge, inhibiting mutual distrust. If the last resort of using force is utilized, the inevitable clashes continue to scar future relations for generations.

In Afghanistan, the generic rhetoric of bringing education, democracy, jobs, economic and political reform – all under the umbrella of “nation-building” – hasn’t delivered on its promises.

Essentially the same problems continue to plague the common people: education is poor and unavailable, real jobs are scarce – even in the cities, and the money that was meant to bring roads, hospitals, schools and jobs has disappeared into the pockets of warlords and corrupt politicians. Most of the young population is grappling with the warlords, crime syndicates and insurgents offering more employment than government services and independent enterprises. In most of Afghanistan – apart from the introduction of mobile phone services – life has hardly changed from 20, 30 or even 50 years ago; from when the “modernisation” of Afghanistan started.

In terms of the present situation in Afghanistan, the “basics” of cultural interaction are not considered important until they are desperately needed. In the place of humility to understand others through knowledge of culture and language – which create sympathy and understanding – this grass-roots work has been outsourced with nearly all other aspects of the “nation-building.”

Development simply cannot be outsourced as it creates irreconcilable distance between the ones bringing “change” and the ones being “changed.” Instead, participatory dialogue is imperative. What has happened is that the dialogue has engaged the already corrupt systems, excluding the common people. This creates the “in-group” who decides, and it supports complacency with the status quo of corrupt warlords and institutions. Subsequently the people become objects of the change coming from outside, through the powerful private-interest groups who exploit age-old tensions and rivalries. Instead, the people must become active, participatory subjects of change which benefits mutual trust and cooperation.