Today Malala Yousafzai, on the occasion of her sixteenth birthday, addressed the United Nations. In her own characterization she spoke "for the right of every child." I have followed Malala's story with an interest I would not have had just four years ago; I have a three year old daughter. I love her dearly, as all fathers do their own daughters. In our community of ease and privilege, a community I was not born into, I have seen many daughters and sons spoiled. Of course I have vowed not to do this with my daughter, but will it be so easy? I'm plagued by this question.
Malala speaks out for every child's right to an education. My daughter cannot fight this fight, it has been fought for her. In her circumstance, she might be able to start a campaign demanding a private college prep education, but that sounds as trite a struggle as I've ever heard. Malala Yousafzai; determined to secure her education, determined to assure this accommodation for her friends and neighbors, martyred (so it would seem) for her cause, returns larger than life to proclaim that an education is a right, for all children. This right she even proclaims for the daughters and sons of her would-be murderers. This young woman embodies everything I hope to see developed in my child; determination, bravery, kindness, grace. Her spirit has been tempered by the most intense adversity and yet, hers is a sweet, gracious spirit.
Mine is not a burden unique to the parents of children raised in resort areas, it is the burden of affluence everywhere. Those of us not born with a silver spoon in our mouths went to work--we had to, there was competition there, performance was a necessity, not an option. With some luck and a great deal of hard work we secured our more and more comfortable future. By extension we have secured a more and more secure future for our progeny. Herein lies the problem: the sense that I had to support myself motivated me to work for my security. My childhood could not be characterized as fraught with adversity. Point of fact, it was pretty great. My daughter's is shaping up to be even more secure. So where does character come from? Adversity cannot be manufactured. Generosity born out of the shame of abundance is not generosity--it's just shame.
And yet, for the one Malala we have embodying the goodness of one daughter over the evil of this world, there are scores of lost children. The adversity that has strengthened this young girl and catapulted her to the forefront of our attention has claimed the lives of countless daughters and sons. No father would wish the pain and suffering that this and countless other children have endured on his own daughter in the hope of building character. And what of those who survive adversity only to be come bitter and hard?
I'm not sure that there is a remedy, or a route out of this conundrum. I do know that my daughter will know Malala's story and be reminded of it often. Most of us will never know what the true nature of our character would be when facing down the barrel of a gun. All of us see pieces of constitution when we are facing minor adversity, and we think no one is looking. I don't know her, and I could be wrong, but my bet would be that Malala's singularity was not immediately forged in that one defining moment before a muzzle flash. That was simply the moment her character, built of a million tiny moments of determination to overcome, was galvanized. I hope my daughter never faces down the barrel of a gun but I do hope that I can instill in her the sense that each moment our character is tested, even in the slightest, is our opportunity to tip our own personal balance in the direction of goodness.
A Link to Malala's speech to the UN
Background from Vanity Fair
http://www.vanityfair.com/politics/2013/04/malala-yousafzai-pakistan-profile
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