And a woman who held a baby against her bosom said, Speak to us of Children. And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the Archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrows that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
People whose courage has been met by violence populate history. Few, though, are as young as Malala was when, at 15, a Taliban gunman boarded her school bus in northwestern Pakistan and shot her and two other girls, attempting to both kill Malala and, as the Taliban later said, teach a “lesson” to anyone who had the courage to stand up for education, freedom and self-determination, particularly for girls and women. Or as young as 11, when Malala began blogging for the BBC’s Urdu site, writing about her ambition to become a doctor, her fears of the Taliban and her determination to not allow the Taliban — or her fear — to prevent her from getting the education she needed to realize her dreams.
Malala is now where she wants to be: back in school. The Taliban almost made Malala a martyr; they succeeded in making her a symbol. The memoir she is writing to raise awareness about the 61 million children around the world who are not in school indicates she accepts that unasked-for responsibility as a synonym for courage and a champion for girls everywhere. However Malala concludes her book, her story so far is only just beginning.
An assassination attempt was not enough to curtail the human-rights work of teenage activist Malala Yousafzai. In fact, her brush with death at the hands of the Taliban only served to strengthen her resolve and led to her consideration for the 2013 Nobel Peace Prize.
Yousafzai follows in the footsteps of women's rights pioneer Benazir Bhutto, Pakistan's first--and so far, only--female prime minister, assassinated in 2007.
The 16-year-old Pakistani rose to prominence as a vocal advocate for girls’ right to education. The Taliban, which ardently disagrees with Yousafzai’s position, was fearful that her activism would inspire others to act. The group planned to silence the teen, and while she rode a school bus, a Taliban gunman shot her in the head.
Yousafzai was flown to England, where she received emergency care and eventually recovered from her injuries. Rather than go into hiding, she remained steadfast in her attempts to provide Pakistani girls with the right to an education. In October 2013 shevisited the U.S. to share her story.
Her work, including her best-selling book I am Malala, landed her on the shortlist of Nobel candidates. Despite being the odds-on favorite to win the award, Yousafzai was edged out by Organization for the Prohibition of Chemical Weapons, a watchdog group that conducts investigations into the use of chemical weapons.
The Nobel Committee’s decision was met with criticism from some, but praise from the Taliban. In a statement published by NBC News, the Taliban said that the committee was correct in “not selecting this immature girl for this famous award,” according to spokesman Shahidullah Shahid. “If we get another chance, we will definitely kill her, and that will make us feel proud,” Shahid said.
For her part, Yousafzai has vowed to continue her work.
Student Discussion Questions
If you were a 16-year-old girl in Pakistan, could you have imagined doing what Malala did?
What do you admire most about Malala? Why are her actions significant in terms of the worldwide struggle for human rights (in particular, women's rights)? If you could have spoken to the Nobel Prize committee, what would you have said in her support?
Malala gave an address to the United Nations. Choose a quote from her address and explain why it’s particularly meaningful or memorable.
What are some of the serious women’s rights issues in Pakistan and around the world? Read more here (but be aware that this source contains disturbing images and descriptions of violent acts; be careful to review prior to sharing with students).
The Swat Taliban are a subgroup of the wider Pakistani Talibanmovement based in South Waziristan, in Pakistan’s Swat District. What was the political situation in Swat District at the time of the attack on Malala?
How do you explain Malala’s attack in the context of Pakistan’s history? See this comprehensive timeline.
What complex impact have Malala’s experience and story had in Pakistan?
"The one thing I take for granted most living here is just how safe Taipei is. Especially being a large city, I forget sometimes how lucky I am to live here. You can walk down almost any street at 3 o'clock in the morning and be completely carefree. I like carefree.
My heart goes out to the victims and their families. Yesterdays terrible, horrible act of violence is an isolated incidence where evil won. But we need to remember that this is not what happens here. Lets not let this awful day change what Taiwan is.
Evil should not win, evil can not win.
This island is too good for that."
From my colleague , Brand Thompson, after the horrible Taipei MRT stabbing spree.
If I should have a daughter, instead of “Mom,” she’s going to call me, “Point B.” Because that way she knows that no matter what happens, at least she can always find her way to me.
And I’m going to paint the solar systems on the backs of her hands, so she has to learn the entire universe before she can say, “Oh, I know that like the back of my hand.” And she’s going to learn that this life will hit you, hard, in the face, wait for you to get back up just so it can kick you in the stomach. But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.
There is hurt, here, that cannot be fixed by band-aids or poetry, so the first time she realizes that Wonder Woman isn’t coming, I’ll make sure she knows she doesn’t have to wear the cape all by herself. Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. Believe me, I’ve tried.
“And baby,” I’ll tell her, “Don’t keep your nose up in the air like that. I know that trick. I’ve done it a million times. You’re just smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house, so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire to see if you can save him. Or else, find the boy who lit the fire in the first place, to see if you can change him.” But I know she will anyway, so instead, I’ll always keep an extra supply of chocolate and rainboots nearby. Because there’s no heartbreak that chocolate can’t fix.
Okay, there’s a few heartbreaks that chocolate can’t fix. But that’s what the rainboots are for. Because rain will wash away everything if you let it.
I want her to look at the world through the underside of a glass bottom boat. To look through a microscope at the galaxies that exist on the pinpoint of a human mind. Because that’s the way my mom taught me. That there’ll be days like this, “There’ll be days like this,” my mama said. When you open your hands to catch and wind up with only blisters and bruises. When you step out of the phone booth and try to fly, and the very people you want to save are the ones standing on your cape. When your boots will fill with rain, and you’ll be up to your knees in disappointment, and those are the very days you have all the more reason to say, “Thank you.” Because there’s nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shore line, no matter how many times it’s sent away.
You will put the “wind” in “winsome… lose some.” You will put the “star” in “starting over… and over…” And no matter how manyland mines erupt in a minute, be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life.
And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting, I am pretty damn naive. But I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar. It can crumble so easily, but don’t be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it.
“Baby,” I’ll tell her, “Remember, your mama is a worrier, and your papa is a warrior, and you are the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops asking for more. Remember that good thingscome in threes, and so do bad things, and always apologize when you’ve done something wrong. But don’t you EVER apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining. Your voice is small, but don’t ever stop singing. And when they finally hand you heartache, when they slip war and hatred under your door and offer you handouts on street corners of cynicism and defeat, you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother.”
