Sylvia's Journal

I woke up this morning, back at our homestead, feeling a slight twinge of nostalgia and a vague sense of loss. The loss was about the sadness I imagined as F was saying goodbye to her surrogate parents at NMH, but also the sadness of not being able to return to Afghanistan this summer to see her real mom and siblings. Given her high and scarfless profile at public events and in public places she was advised to remain in the US for the summer before settling into Bates for the next 4 years.

Her American experience has opened her eyes to perspectives that had never been in view as she grew up in Afghanistan. She wrote a paper why gay marriage is OK, roomed with a Jewish girl and later with a Russian girl whose grandfather had fought against her grandfather in Afghanistan. She can now separate the people from the issues and make independent judgments. She honed her managerial skills at the rec center of NMH and read the whole bible as part of a class for Catholics only, to which she asked to be admitted. She has developed a theory about geography, destiny and the great religions that is a refreshing view on a very divisive topic in her homeland. A return will be hard because she will be a lone voice. It is good to know that SOLA, and so many others, are working hard at creating a critical mass of such independent thinkers. It is a life’s work for many extraordinary people we have come to know, inside and outside Afghanistan.

Watching the class of 2013 cheering and throwing their hats in the air, the proud smiles of parents and friends also made me nostalgic. I remember my own graduation. It was 1970, a time full of possibilities and open roads. Looking back I can say that, indeed, roads opened and I have travelled a long way, both literally and figuratively, exceeding my wildest expectations. It’s just that now I can’t walk these roads as well as I used to – the crippling ankle pain is beginning to close off those roads that aren’t paved.