Majoring in Unafraid

 My classic college supplement.

I believe that overcoming fear is key to leading a meaningful life. Whether it’s teaching at a preschool in a violent township,  immersing myself in the life of a French family, or even giving a speech to our student body in chapel, I have found that taking risks can bring rich rewards.

When I think about majoring in unafraid, however, one incident stands out.  I was 14 and my parents were away for the weekend. At two a.m., I woke up and saw two figures in the darkness. My heart raced but I remained calm. One of the burglars put his hand in front of my face, signaling me to remain quiet. Both men wore black masks, and one had a crow bar. They took my laptop, warned me to do nothing, and left. After ten minutes of terror, I triggered the alarm and crept downstairs. I awoke Nancy, my adult babysitter, who was sleeping unaware in another room.The house was ransacked. After three hours, the police finally showed up along with my parents. I provided a calm, detailed account, answering all their questions. This confirmed that these were the same burglars who had committed several other violent crimes in the area.

So what did I learn? That I am, at my core, a very strong person. That fear cannot defeat me.   That courage and confidence can get you through tough moments, and allow you to embrace the world and its amazing opportunities. I continue to live unafraid.

Pick one woman in history or fiction to converse with for an hour. What would you talk about?

Graca Machel has the unique position of being widowed by two great men,  Nelson Mandela, the Nobel prize winner and former president of South Africa, and Samora Machel, the first president of independent Mozambique. However, Graca Machel is a hero in my eyes because of who she is and not because of who she married. Millions around the world saw her grief-stricken at Mandela’s recent funeral. I wish they and I could get to know her better.

Graca Machel’s life story took her from a remote village in colonial Mozambique to a liberation war and service as minister of education under a free government. Her life encapsulates much of the recent history of southern Africa. I would ask her about her childhood--how after her father died (before she was born), she managed  to attend school and go on to university at a time and place when women and girls had few such opportunities. I would ask her how it felt to be a woman training in a guerilla military camp. I would ask her how she felt when Mozambique became independent and how, as minister, she managed to reduce the illiteracy rate by 72%.   I would ask her about her life with Nelson Mandela and what they learned from each other. I would ask her about South Africa’s future, and what should be done to improve the public education system there. I would ask her if we could talk for another hour!

Philisa Abufasi Bethu

A summer that changed my life.

Beyond its phenomenal mountains, gorgeous vineyards, and beautiful oceans,Cape Town, South Africa, has another world:  broken-down tin shacks, gangs, violence, and poverty-stricken families. Cape Town has been my home for the past five years, and during the summer of 2012, I learned about the differences between the lives of the rich and the poor in ways that will stay with me forever.

That summer, I began my internship at Philisa Abufasi Bethu, an organization that means Heal Our Women in Xhosa. I became a leader of a youth workshop there, and taught young women aged 13-17 about HIV/AIDs, the importance of education, and ways to avoid and combat violence. As time passed, I developed close bonds with some of these young women and listened intently to their stories. One story stood out in particular.

A 17-year old girl named Shannon was recently kicked out of her house. Her parents were constantly arguing and her father was a drug addict. Shannon dropped out of high school, and the family struggled to put food on the table. The previous night, she had returned home with a terrible stomach ache. Her mother immediately accused her of being pregnant. Her mother was ashamed, and  kicked her out of the house, shouting,

“If you die, I won’t bury you!”

Shannon fled through the township and turned up at the doorsteps of Philisa Abufasi Bethu. Lucinda, the founder of the organization, invited Shannon into her home. Shannon’s stomach continued to throb. Lucinda called the local doctor to organize an appointment. The next appointment was two months away, and the emergency line was 10 hours long. Thousands of people in the township were in desperate need of healthcare.

Four days later, I asked Shannon what she wanted to be when she was older. She gave me a look of defeat and failure, and slowly mumbled

“Nothing.”

“Why nothing?”I asked her.

“What’s the point?”

I realized then how hurt she was.  It wasn’t her physical pain that struck me, but her emotional devastation. I needed to find a way to help--not just Shannon, but women and children throughout Africa who struggle daily against poverty and violence. When I left three weeks later, Shannon had still not received medical care.

Cape Town is just one city in Africa, a vast continent facing complicated problems.  In addition to South Africa, I’ve lived in Senegal, Gambia, Kenya, Uganda, and Gabon. I’ve been a part of French and English speaking communities, majority-Muslim and majority-Christian, urban and rural. I understand that the problems are not easy to fix, but I am determined to help find solutions that will make a real impact on the lives of young people like Shannon.

While in Cape Town, I have devoted my time to helping children in need.  I volunteered at a preschool in the Imizamo Yethu township, where I assisted teachers and helped with the feeding program. At the Desmond Tutu HIV/AIDS Youth Center, I taught kids how to use computers, and mentored teenagers including a 13-year old rapper who later performed for Barack Obama. I also volunteered to help teams of young soccer players at a community awareness event with first lady Michelle Obama.

I have learned that while powerful leaders and organizations contribute a great deal, it is the day to day work that matters most. Some of my best moments were simple ones and required little money--when communities organized talent shows, when the kids played soccer in the streets, and when we shared stories in the garden. But I have no illusions, the problems are complicated and so are the solutions.There is so much more I need to learn about economics, society, leadership, social health, psychology, and community development. I know that this learning occurs both in the community and in the classroom; that is why I am grateful to Shannon and the experiences I have had, and that is why I want to go to university.

Amanda Knox Is Innocent

An opinion piece.

       Has anyone heard of "innocent until proven guilty?" The facts are there. Look at the evidence, or lack there of. The evidence was taken care of terribly, the forensic scientists threw away important pieces of evidence and touched others with their bare hands, leaving their own fingerprints on what could have potentially been crucial. This case was terribly handled, and because of that, no one knows who is really guilty. You can accuse Amanda Knox of being guilty based on her "emotions," "monotone," "diary entries," or "alternating stories." However, there is no solid proof, no DNA evidence to prove that she is guilty, so as of right now, she is innocent.        
      
     In terms of Amanda Knoxx constantly putting the "blame" on others and alternating her stories, it is hard to stick to the truth when you are questioned for every small action, every step you took that night. You try being questioned in a room for 5 hours with investigators whose sole goal is to prove your guilt. I was once questioned for 10 minutes about stealing my friend's phone, and already I could hear myself changing the story because I could not remember every exact "detail" about the truth. All I could remember was that I came back, grabbed a piece of paper, went to a review session  followed by a meeting. The details about how long I spent at each session or why I came back or where I was between this time and this time were unknown. The human mind is intriguing because you can't remember everything, so you subconsciously find yourself filling in the "gaps" and making up little actions that flow between the basic simple truths that you remember. Eventually, the story gets mixed between the truth and the "gap-fillers."        
      
     I believe Amanda Knoxx is innocent because they have no evidence, she's the one who called the police about a robbery, and I don't judge until I see the proof. I don't make assumptions based on her behaviors, or what unreliable reporters say. I look at the solid facts. At this point, forensic scientists and judges have closed their mind on the fact that it could be someone else, and are trying to find all evidence that proves it is her. Instead, open up your mind, investigate other potential suspects, and develop more theories instead of accuse the same person for years.        
      
     Stop being so judgmental people, look at the evidence not at the media, and just let her live in peace. She is human. She has feelings and emotions too. I hostly feel bad for her, the fact that this case blew up all over America and Europe. No one would know who she is if it wasn't for the news reporters. She would be one amongst the thousands of other people being accused and tried for murder in the world. Why is she so special, when there are thousand of other crimes out there. Just let her live her life, and you go and live yours, without letting this case or her verdict affect you. Amanda Knox, according to the law, is innocent.