This is actually the first stanza of a piece of slam poetry my friend and I also wrote and performed at our school’s rendition of TED Talks.
Over lunch 1 day, we discovered we shared a common passion—an insistence on equality in all forms, feminism in particular. We discussed the issue of combating social issues, but agreed that spreading awareness was one effective method. This exchange that is casual into a project involving weeks of collaboration.
We realized that together we’re able to make a better impact so we composed a ten-minute poem aimed at inspiring people to consider important issues than we ever could have individually. We began by drafting stanzas, simultaneously editing one another’s writing, and soon after progressed to memorization, practicing together until our alternating lines flowed and phrases spoken together were completely synchronized. The performance was both successful and memorable, but more to the point, this collaboration motivated us to go forward to establish the Equality Club at our school.
Sophomore year, our club volunteered with organizations promoting gender equality, the highlight of the season helping at a marathon for recovering abuse victims. Junior year, we met with this head of school to mention our goals, outline plans and gain support for the year that is coming in which we held fundraisers for refugees while educating students. This present year we have been collaborating because of the Judicial Committee to reduce the use that is escalating of slurs in school stemming from too little awareness within the student body.
Out of this experience, I discovered that you can easily reach so many more people when working together as opposed to apart.
Moreover it taught me that the most important facet of collaborating is believing in the same cause; the details will come as long as there is a shared passion.
“It’s a hot and day that is humid Swat Valley, Pakistan
A young student boards the institution bus since walking isn’t any longer safe
She sits, chatting with her friends after a long day of exams
A man jumps onto the bus and takes out a gun
The last thing the girl remembers is the sound of three gunshots
Her name is Malala and she was fourteen years old
Shot for no reason aside from her aspire to learn
We will FIGHT until girls don’t live with fear of attending school
We shall FIGHT until education is a freedom, a right, an expectation for everybody”
This is actually the first stanza of a piece of slam poetry my pal and I also wrote and performed at our school’s rendition of TED Talks. Over lunch one day, we discovered we shared a passion—an that is common on equality in all forms, feminism in particular. We discussed the problem of combating social issues, but agreed that spreading awareness was one effective method. This casual exchange evolved into a project involving weeks of collaboration.
We realized that together we could make a better impact than we ever might have individually, so we composed a ten-minute poem geared towards inspiring individuals to consider important issues. We began by drafting stanzas, simultaneously editing one another’s writing, and later progressed to memorization, practicing together until our alternating lines flowed and phrases spoken together were completely synchronized. The performance was both memorable and successful, but more importantly, this collaboration motivated us to move forward to ascertain the Equality Club at our school.
Sophomore year, our club volunteered with organizations gender that is promoting, the highlight of the season helping at a marathon for recovering abuse victims.
Junior year, we met with this head of school to convey our goals, outline plans and gain support for the year ahead, in which we held fundraisers for refugees while educating students. This year our company is collaborating using the Judicial Committee to lessen the use that is escalating of slurs at school stemming from deficiencies in awareness inside the student body.
Using this experience, I learned that you can easily reach so many more people when working together rather than apart. In addition it taught me that the most crucial facet of collaborating is believing within the cause that is same the important points can come provided that there clearly was a shared passion.
Legends, lore, and comic books all feature mystical, beautiful beings and superheroes—outspoken powerful Greek goddesses, outspoken Chinese maidens, and outspoken women that are blade-wielding. As a young child, I soared the skies with my angel wings, battled demons with katanas, and helped stop everyday crime (and undoubtedly had a hot boyfriend). In short, I wanted to save lots of the world.
But growing up, my definition of superhero shifted. My peers praised individuals who loudly fought inequality, who rallied and shouted against hatred. As a journalist on a social-justice themed magazine, I spent additional time at protests, understanding and interviewing but not exactly feeling inspired by their work.
In the beginning, I despaired. I quickly realized: I’m not a superhero.
I’m just a girl that is 17-year-old a Nikon and a notepad—and i prefer it like that.
And yet—I want to save the planet.
This understanding didn’t arrive as a bright, thundering revelation; it settled in softly on a warm spring night before my 17th birthday, all over fourth hour of crafting my journalism portfolio. I happened to be determing the best photos I’d taken around town throughout the 2016 presidential election when I unearthed two shots.
The first was from a peace march—my classmates, rainbows painted on the cheeks and bodies wrapped in American flags. One raised a bullhorn to her mouth, her lips forming a loud O. Months later, i possibly could still hear her voice.
The next was different. The cloudy morning following election night appeared to shroud the college in gloom help with writing a paper. In the mist, however—a golden face, with dark hair and two moon-shaped eyes, faces the camera. Her freckles, sprinkled like distant stars over the expanse of her round cheeks, only accentuated her childlike features and added to the soft feel associated with the photo. Her eyes bore into something beyond the lens, beyond the photographer, beyond the viewer—everything is rigid, through the jut of her jaw, to her stitched brows, her upright spine and arms locked across her chest, to her shut mouth.
I picked the second picture within a heartbeat.