Showing posts with label Peace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peace. Show all posts

Friday, October 10, 2014

Malala and Education's Potential for Peace

This year, the Norwegian Nobel Committee received 278 nominations for its Peace Prize — the greatest number ever. I can't list the candidates here (and no one else can either) because each list is kept private for 50 years.

Of course, we all now know two of those nominated. This year's prize is being awarded to Kailash Satyarth and Malala Yousafzai "for their struggle against the suppression of children and young people and for the right of all children to education."

Yes, those brilliant people in Norway see the connection between education and peace. Here in the suburban United States? Not so much.

We're a little too focused on other more immediate issues.

Last night, I attended the Open House at my daughter's high school. As she gets older, these annual events become a bit bittersweet. Settling onto a less than comfortable field house bleacher before the program began, I commiserated with other mothers. "This is our next-to-last one," we reminded each other, somehow making the hectic (and always inconvenient) evening feel precious and fleeting.

The principal welcomed us and shared mostly good news. We heard about MCAS scores, PSAT scores, SAT scores, AP test scores (do we see a pattern here, folks?). Our school performs quite well in all of the above. I'm glad, of course, but there seems to be an inordinate focus on numbers. We then went through an accelerated version of our teenagers' schedules. 

A grateful aside here. My daughter, for the umpteenth time, provided me with a map as well as a list of courses and classrooms. She is a most considerate young woman. Or, she has very little confidence in her dear mama's navigational skills. Regardless, it was appreciated (and coveted by others). The students in her school probably score extremely high on psychology tests since the spanking new building seems to have been inspired by a rat's maze.

But I digress.

In short order, I ran through six ten-minute "classes" and browsed activity tables (and resisted bake sales) during two "study halls." The teachers were welcoming and talked about expectations and "outcomes." The same over-anxious parents I've known since pre-school asked obsessive questions about assignments and grades, GPAs and college acceptance. I couldn't help but cringe when I imagined how embarrassed their sons or daughters would be if they could hear them.

Of course, if these vigilant mums and dads care a little too much, most of our kids don't seem to care enough. There are surely some nerdy brains (God bless their pocket protectors), but for the rank and file sixteen- and seventeen-year olds, school is a necessary evil. It's a drag. It's a mandated interruption of whatever they actually do care about, whether that's hanging out on Snapchat or streaming "How I Met Your Mother" or, in my daughter's case, a horse.

These young people aren't stupid. They watch the news. They know that they're lucky to have access to a high quality (see test score paragraph above) free education — regardless of their financial situation, religion or gender. They know it, but they don't feel it.

They haven't had to.

Malala, now the youngest Nobel Peace Prize recipient at seventeen (the same age as my own daughter), once explained "Part of our human nature is that we don't learn the importance of anything until it's snatched from our hands. In Pakistan, when we were stopped from going to school, I realized that education is very important, and education is power for women."

I couldn't be happier that this year's Nobel Prize is recognizing education activists rather than political leaders. I'd like to think that ensuring a better future (not admission to an Ivy, but a safe and peaceful world) is more deeply rooted than our aggression, greed or competitiveness. That taking care of our children is at the heart of human nature.

Meanwhile, I do wish my daughter and her friends didn't take their education for granted.  

But, as a wise and wonderful new Laureate noted, that's human nature too.

If you enjoyed this post, I invite you to order a copy of Lovin' the Alien at www.lovinthealien.com.  

Friday, July 6, 2012

The Peace Train


I love to travel, although I have neither the time nor the financial resources to do it as much as I'd like. I've always believed that all you have to do is open yourself to new places and people and experiences, and wondrous things will happen.



My daughter — whether she realizes it or not — is very fortunate. Last week marked her second trip to the U.K. (I didn't make it there until I was 28, the same year I learned to drive. Oh, but that's a different story.) She's been to Mexico, Canada, St. Croix, Bermuda, the Bahamas, England and now France. Paris to be specific.


On this trip, we happened upon several bigger than life (or, at least, bigger than us) moments. We were simply in the right place at the right time.


For example, on our first day in London, a bit bleary-eyed, we went to Waterloo to meet an old friend for lunch. It was a typical train station: fast food carts, ticket kiosks, mechanical arrival and departure boards. All of a sudden, we looked around and thought "Toto, we're not in the U.S. anymore." Amongst the business commuters and average citizens waiting for trains, there were dozens and eventually hundreds of men in morning coats and top hats, accompanied by women in fancy dresses and matching fascinators (those frilly, floral little headbands that drew so much attention at Kate and William's wedding last year). We passed more than one gentlemen with an elaborate rosette on his lapel, reading "Royal Enclosure." 


Turns out, they were catching the train to Ascot. How cool is that? As Americans, all we could say was, "Whoa."


A few days later, we were walking along Whitehall, having toured Parliament with our friends, and arrived just as they were starting the ceremonial Changing of the Horse Guards. We hadn't planned it that way (in fact, we were running an hour or so late on our self-guided walking tour). My daughter was, needless to say, in horse heaven. 


And, after much bat mitzvah celebration and a whirlwind of touristy sites, we caught the Eurostar to Paris. It's incredible how quick and convenient it is. In half the time it takes to travel to New York from Boston, we went from London's St. Pancras Station to Paris' Gare du Nord. With comfortable seats, great scenery (except, of course, when you're actually under the channel), and delicious snacks.


When we arrived, there was a media frenzy waiting for our train. (Of course, we were disappointed that the paparazzi were following us. Um, just kidding.) It turned out, as we read the "Welcome ..." banners that were lined up side by side with the TV crews, we weren't the only ones who had taken the Eurostar that morning. We had been traveling with Aung San Suu Kyi, the Burmese opposition leader, former long-time prisoner and winner of the Nobel Peace Prize. Although we were eager to get to our hotel, we stopped to watch as the diminutive political powerhouse was greeted by the crowd.


Later, we stumbled into Cathedrals just as choirs of nuns began to sing, walked by Shakespeare & Co. on the left bank during a standing-room-only book reading, enjoyed countless buskers on the metro and in cafes. Even watched a model being primped for a photo shoot at Place de la Concord.


While all of these added to the Parisian ambience, I think that traveling with Madame Suu Kyi made the greatest impression. It gave me an opportunity to explain some pretty important concepts to my daughter. Like prisoners of conscience, house arrest, human rights and non-violent demonstration. Quite the bonus on top of our exceedingly pleasant train ride, n'est-ce pas?


And, for me, the incident and our subsequent conversations underscored what is perhaps the most important benefit of travel with children. If more people had the chance to visit other places and absorb other cultures, I really believe there would be greater understanding and a greater motivation for peaceful coexistence. 


It's a pretty powerful way to help our kids realize that the world isn't "us and them," it's just "us."