I didn't get a chance to finish telling you yesterday's story but now I must. One of the schools we are building is a girls school where today, almost all the girls classrooms are outside. I'm not talking about an occasional spring time class on the lawn under a shade tree. I'm talking about 120˚ dressed in a black burka sitting on a rock. I don't know about you, but not only wouldn't I do it - I couldn't do it. And yet here, where the average years of schooling for adults is 1.7 years and the literacy rate (% over 15 who can read and write) is 28%; girls are happy to endure all nature of obstacles for the opportunity to become educated and dream of jobs - including teachers, journalists, engineers, doctors, members of parliament - and yes, even president. Believe it or not, 40 girls graduated from this school last year and 13 attend a university.
Change is coming. On this site a new school is rising from the earth. No machines - only picks, shovels, hands and hammers. Change can't be taken for granted - it can only be taken with blood, sweat and tears.
This school will have 24 rooms, 40 girls per room and 3 shifts per day. Now, I wouldn't want my granddaughter going to this school - but in Afghanistan, this is a dream come true. Girls will have latrines, roofs, blackboards, desks, books ... and hope. And look how this is happening - not with money from the Afghanistan government - but with support from children, communities, friends and organizations in the United States. This is not "just" a school - it is a bridge for understanding that reaches across the globe.