Voices of Youth

I met Chi when I was seven. She was a pretty girl with straight, black hair and a bright smile that beamed with both sarcasm and loveliness. But from as early as I remember, she possessed a callous exterior—tough and mistrusting of the world.

I don’t remember why, but she and I did not get along. Now that I think about it, it was probably because she was so strong. Strong from years of abuse. But at that age, I was too young to understand that the world could be so cruel to such a little girl, so I was too young to understand her.

She was not a studious child with excellent grades, but rather the kind of girl who does rebellious things to just irritate the teacher. I was labeled a “good student,” and she was labeled a bad one. She would cuss and break the rules for the sake of breaking them; I would dance in the rain and sing in the shower. She had more boyfriends than girl friends; I still believed in cooties. And so, in every way, we really were polar opposites. Perhaps that’s why we disliked each other so much.

Because we were both fluent in sarcasm, our battles were never out loud. We would converse politely with the smiles of casual acquaintances. Beneath it all, however, we were locked in a fiery power struggle. It was not at all pretty, the way girls fight—talking behind each other’s backs, slandering and backstabbing with words that cut like crimson knives. At that age, I was truly a mean child: I had learned how to please the adults around me, and unfortunately, she hadn’t. With that advantage, I almost cruelly stepped her down.

But she was not weak. She fought back ferociously.

As we entered third grade, however, we took off our shields and laid down our armor and we ceased our battles. The way girls interact with each other is quite strange, you see, and at eight years old, we both decided to become friends. It was probably because she was maturing and I was too.

I remember how there was one afternoon when she invited me to go out. It was a Sunday, the usual time when I would have stayed home and completed my homework.

“Want to go to the shopping center with me?” she asked over the phone.

I hesitated, but still replied: “Sure. Why not?”

The shopping center was like Amsterdam at night, where children should never venture alone without supervision. I should have turned down the invitation, but her attitude inspired the rebellious part of me. Perhaps at the age of eight, there was a part of me yearning to be like her—so outwardly unrestrained. She didn’t care about stupid things like grades and never worried about homework. Unlike me, who took various extra courses and sports and music lessons, she was free.

So that afternoon, when Chi rode her silver bike to my house and called me to come down from my apartment with my own bike, I didn’t tell my parents that I would be going out. I wanted not to care for once.

I asked her how we would be going to the shopping center, for I had never gone to anywhere near that place without my parents accompanying me. She told me to not worry and just follow her. The two of us rode our bikes down the road and she led me through dirt paths and tunnels that I never knew existed. We didn’t go shopping, but went to the video arcade and spend tons of money there instead. At eight years old, the two of us spent the whole afternoon in that arcade, and I experienced youthful rebellion for the very first time.

On the way back, when we were going downhill through a tunnel, riding as fast as we could, I felt as if I were flying. The feeling was something incredible and nothing short of ecstasy.

I screamed to her: “Hey! You do this often?”

“By myself? Yeah. All the time!”

When I came back home at 6pm, no one knew that I had left the house for an entire afternoon. After that day, I found myself dreaming of the same scene over and over again for many nights. That sense of freedom was completely new to me.

But shortly after, I went back to my studious ways, and she went back to her “bad student” ways. After we graduated third grade and I moved to the United States, we never talked again. Our class held reunions every year during the summers when I went back to my home, but she never came to a single one.

When I was fourteen, I attended my primary school teacher's wedding. Chi wasn't at the ceremony, but that didn't stop people from gossiping about her.

“I heard that she ran away from her home.”

“She stopped attending school since fifth grade because her family was too poor."

“People say she’s a ‘dancer’ at a pub now.”

I never believed in those rumors because I knew many people didn’t like her because of her strong personality, so tough and mistrusting of the world.

The next year, when I was trying to arrange another class reunion, I called everyone’s home phone number. Previous years, no one picked up the phone when I tried to call Chi, but that year, her mother picked up.

“What do you want?” she demanded angrily.

I told her that I wished to invite her daughter to the class reunion.

The woman replied in harsh Chinese: “I’ve never had a daughter like her. She is not mine. She ran away years ago, and don’t you dare call this number again.”

When I hung up the phone, I suddenly remembered how Chi only had her mother. Her father left her family long ago. One by one, memories rushed back to me: her sly smile, her sarcastic comebacks, her liveliness, the way she called my name down the school hallways.

Chi ran away from everything. But what did she have to run away from in the first place? Nothing. She had nothing to run away from. Her father left years ago, her mother abandoned her; the world simply had nothing to offer her anymore, and so she ran away from a world that gave her nothing.

At the class reunion that summer, I asked out loud: “Where is Chi?”

No one said anything.

No one remembered, it seemed.

It seemed that she ran away from a world that had forgotten her. But I remembered. I still dance in the rain and sing in the shower, so I wonder if she still cusses and breaks the rules for fun. I wonder if the world has changed her all these years, if the world had given her a chance to show her warmness. I hope so. I hope she is well, alive and well.

And I hope, above all, she is happy.

We’re unbelievably lucky to live in this era with this thing called the Internet.

It’s among the greatest inventions of human history, the way it connects people, through common interests and common goals, linking those needing resources with those who can provide them. Its accessibility and its prevalence make the Internet an amazing and unprecedented invention and generates so much possibility—the way it allows expression, inspires art, and provides an unlimited supply of knowledge upon people’s fingertips. It makes nearly anything possible for those bold enough to dream and practical enough to act.

Though millions in undeveloped countries—and still millions more in developing countries—lack access to this tool, the Internet, if anything, possesses the power to emerge as an equalizer of otherwise undiscovered opportunity and knowledge. And through this capacity, universal education may finally become accessible.

With such powerful tool that wields the possibility to evolutionize education, the question now becomes how we will use it.

I kept on asking myself that question for years, ever since I realized just how powerful the Internet has grown to be. Still, today, I have no answer. But I know our generation can do great things with it, and I know we will one day.

Take a look at any of the 2600 videos on Khan Academy. They're "on a mission to provide a free world-class education to anyone anywhere." And the entire platform is genius, creative, and inspiring — because it exemplifies what this era is going to be about. Possibilities.

As a first-generation Chinese immigrant living in the United States, I have witnessed, experienced, and can attest to the immense nationalistic pride that Americans hold for their democratic form of government. Patriotism, they call it.

But from such patriotism occasionally stems a misguided close-mindedness towards other forms of government. Democracy, such people believe, is the only rightful way to govern a nation. Further, these people seek to eradicate any other form of government that stand in the path of democracy. Such sentiments are exemplified by the anti-communist panic that swept America during the Cold War era of the 1950s.

With that said, let it be clear that I neither denounce nor disagree with the aforementioned breed of patriotism, but only seek to propose an alternative point of view:

Just as one cannot assign a dollar value to individual human beings, one cannot judge government from a theoretical angle.

Limitations exist for a reason. If happiness can be universally achieved through complete freedom, then why on earth did we need a government in the first place? When we talk about limitations on rights, there are many questions that need to be addressed.

First, where does the right to govern originate? Is limitation justified at all? And if limitations are necessary, who or what is the agent that can or should impose such limitation?

Second, speaking from a practical angle, what consequences do such limitations lead to, and how can these consequences benefit or harm the society? Do the benefit outweighs the harm, and can this potentially justify the limitation (even if theoretically it cannot be justified)?

Third, what exactly are the limitations we are talking about? Is there any instances where this limitation cannot and should not apply?

Fourth, why does this limitation exist in this country and not others? What are the causes of these differences, and are these differences justified?

Fifth, what assumptions are we making when we say this limitation is okay? What assumptions are we making regarding to human nature and inherent rights of individuals? Why can we make these assumptions, and with what kind of evidence can we back up these assumptions?

Culture and government are ultimately interlocked, as cultures determine what kind of government is needed and is just while government shapes the culture. Yet because of such distinctions in cultural values, there is no "best" structure of government for all nations.

Education allows you to speak with confidence on matters that you never imagined to ever be able to speak in great length about.

At 1am, upon finishing a four-hour study session, I explained the conditions and causes for the urban-rural inequality in modern China since 1945 to my friend: from the economic reform to the social benefits provided, to the current educational system. I went on tangent so many times since the topic was so broad, but somehow I was able to paint a general picture for her.

The discussion, somehow, went into Cold War. And so we went from basic realism, to the idea of security dilemma, to the events near the end of World War II, to the arms race, to parity, to the end of arms race and the end of USSR in 1991. When we were done, it was 3am.

Education empowers. It’s a good feeling to be able to talk about things you never imagined knowing.

Life is exciting :D

My grandfather's eyes sparkle when he speaks of his past. He repeats sentences when he retells his youth. He eats slowly. He breathes slowly. He grumbles when he thinks. He has sad eyes that remind me of stars in a dark sky. He has thin limbs that seem too soft and too weak to contain any bones. He walks painfully slowly and refuses help.

He is stubborn. His hands are course. He words pour with wisdom.

And he wishes. He has great wishes, incredibly great wishes. He asks me if I could ever become the president of a great country, if I will promise to make my mark in the world, if I could climb to the top of Mount Everest.

Climb Mount Everest? To what?

To live, he said. Live to be.

He asks me if I promise to come back to Sichuan and visit my family often.

“Oh that’s easy,” I said. “That’s much easier than any of your other wishes.”

“But you ought to remember your promises,” he said, watching me, observing me with those sad eyes, as if he saw through me and saw something that I could not see in myself.

“Your generation is young and full of youth—so do not be afraid to dream, to excel, to fly.”

I hope that I do not fail him, that our generation will not fail him; that we will all grow up to prove ourselves worthy in this world. We may not climb Mount Everest, but we must all live. Live to be—to dream, excel, and fly.

UNICEF is faced with a daunting task: to decrease the daily number of preventable child mortality rates to zero.

"Believe in Zero" is UNICEF's campaign to reduce the number of preventable child deaths every day from 21,000 to zero, and the Convention of the Rights of the Child helps achieve exactly this. The Convention is not only a necessary instrument for UNICEF, but also a crucial tool for the integration of the organization’s values into the entire world.

Progress has been made, but there is still a long struggle ahead, and UNICEF needs all the help it can get. The Convention serves as the perfect catalyst for worldwide change. It combines the worldwide power and influence of the United Nations with the mission of UNICEF to protect and ensure the rights of children everywhere. The Convention has already proved to be extremely successful, as it is the most widely ratified treaty for human rights, and can continue to change the face of children’s rights if its relationship with UNICEF is maintained.

The Convention on the Rights of the Child is important to UNICEF and its mission because the Convention has an immediate influence over the many participants of the United Nations. To be a part of the Convention, countries must either ratify or accede to the treaty, and as a part of this process, submit a report to the Committee of the Rights of the Child about the integration of the Convention into their national laws. This ratification process is indispensable because it prompts compliant countries to be self-aware about their domestic issues. Self-evaluation is a critical step in change, and the mirror that the Convention turns on these countries encourages exactly this. The Convention is essential to UNICEF because it provokes quick action that could otherwise take years to complete without the involvement of the United Nations.

One argument against the value of the Convention on the Rights of the Child is that it does not reach the whole world, but only the countries that decide to cooperate. Although the Convention is strictly voluntary, the worldwide response has still been remarkable. All UN members have ratified the Convention, the only exceptions being the U.S., which is in the process of examining it, and Somalia. With the exception of these two countries, the Convention has reached all the members of United Nations—a nearly perfect approval rate. Although some countries choose to undergo the ratification process simply for a positive global image, the effects are still the same: a radical overhaul of international policy to accommodate children’s rights.

The unbelievable success of the Convention on the Rights of the Child speaks for itself. Nearly all countries have ratified it and begun its implementation. In this respect, the Convention is invaluable in guiding UNICEF towards securing the survival and prosperity of the future generation.

And so, with the Convention at work, only a single question remains:

Do you believe in zero?

Teenagers are reckless. Black people listen to rap. Asians love math. Cheerleaders are stupid.

These are merely standard stereotypes that young people of developed countries face on a daily basis. But beyond these superficial labels, millions of youth across the globe face a much harsher and crueler form of stereotyping: discrimination against indigenous and minority children.

Such discrimination is still a prevalent global issue, despite efforts from international organizations such as UNICEF to eradicate this unequal treatment of humans.

Racism faced by United States citizens, such as job discrimination, does not compare to the harsh conditions faced by millions of children across the globe.

The civil war within Congo during the late twentieth century is a prime example of the lasting impact indigenous discrimination holds upon youth. Rwanda invaded Congo in 1997 in hopes of cleansing the country of its Hutu natives. Instead of solidifying Tutsi rule, the war fragmented the region and led to the establishment of the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA), a Uganda-based terrorist group that moved into the Congo by 2008.

The LRA began kidnapping children, leading to an increase in violence and political instability within the region. Although Congo’s original intent was to create peace among its people, its decline is a result of its violent course of action.

Children of the Congo are now raised in a conflicted environment and are quickly taught the brutality of warfare in hopes of adding more bodies to its armies. The restriction of the Congo’s youth from basic education has erased all potential diversity from the country’s economy; when children are not fighting, their energy is spent on mining Congo’s natural resources to fund the warlords’ everlasting conflict.

Should this conflict end, additional problems will arise. Children trained as soldiers could not possibly contribute beneficial qualities to their society; these children’s mental distress and lack of education would hinder a generational shift towards peace.

Though the war’s alleged purpose is to seek peace, in reality, the discrimination against indigenous people within Congo has only caused greater challenges that ultimately impede the development of the country.

However, a solution is available for these problems: the stoppage of discrimination against indigenous and minority children will ease the damage already inflicted upon the globe. Providing education to all children can plant seeds for long-term resolution, since schooling establishes an equal ground for different cultures to learn about one another on an unbiased field.

Not only will school combine youth of different heritages and cultures, it will also aid countries in producing a productive labor force, which in turn will provide the government with tax-paying citizens. Initiatives are currently being taken to aid this issue; UNICEF has established multiple rehabilitation centers within the Congo for the sole purpose of healing troubled children. Similarly, the United States must focus greater attention towards regions inflicted by indigenous and minority discrimination.

Though domestic problems within America have not reached the extent of many other nations, it is essential that these issues be given attention to because we are a nation whose roots are embedded in racial-based conflict.

As a leader of the industrial world, the United States must continually seek to fulfill the goal of “liberty and justice for all”.

All too often, we hear children complain: But that's not fair!

For children who grow up in a life of privilege, fairness is perhaps the most familiar concept etched into their young lives. Unaccustomed to harsh realities and lacking the wisdom of age, they grow indignant when fairness is violated. Yet sometimes, life can't always be fair.

--

The old man looked into his son’s eyes.

“What is the most important thing in this world?” he asked the young boy.

The boy pondered upon the question for a moment, then assertively answered: “Fairness.”

Smiling, the old man looked back at the innocent child.

“In your mind, what is fairness?”

“People who work the hardest produce the best work, and so should receive the best reward!” The young boy proudly answered. “The people who are lazy and do not do works should not receive any reward. They should be punished!”

The old man put his hand onto the boy’s shoulder. “No, child, that fairness of yours is perhaps the cruelest form of fairness. The real fairness needs to be merciful, kind and forgiving. Sometimes, fairness needs to be unfair."

The boy doesn't understand, but he remembers.

But then the boy grows up. He stumbles through the unfairness of life and cries when life fails to be fair. It is not until much later that he understands how fairness can be cruel, how fairness is unkind, how man cannot be exact, and how human beings are complicated animals.

He learns that it can’t always be fair. And he wonders how he would ever be able to teach his son that lesson, how to teach his child not to be vengeful and cynical when he meets unfairness, how to teach him to greet unfairness with a graceful smile, and how to treat life with gratitude.

Fairness. It’s the hardest lesson—and the most humbling lesson—a father can ever teach to his son.

We are the Amador Valley UNICEF Club from Pleasanton, California in the United States. This year, we coordinated Trick-or-Treat for UNICEF for local elementary schools. At each school, we performed a skit explaining global challenges that children face, and how UNICEF is working to resolve these challenges.

Since most of our club campaigns involve the high school or general community, we wanted Trick-or-Treat for UNICEF to specifically reach out to the younger students of our city. To do this, our club focused this fundraiser in three local elementary schools.

At each school, we performed a skit introducing basic survival challenges that children around the world are facing. Because UNICEF addresses the rights and welfare of children, we emphasized the need for privileged children—such as the students of our school district—to help other children who don’t have access to the resources and opportunities that we do.

In line with our club’s “Believe in Zero” theme for the school year, our club volunteers also explained UNICEF’s role in providing basic resources for survival to children. The theme, “Believe in Zero”, is based on the U.S. Fund for UNICEF’s Believe in Zero campaign, a goal to reduce child mortality rates to zero.

Originally, we worried that the elementary school students wouldn’t empathize or understand the global challenges faced by less fortunate children. However, as we found out, most students were extremely concerned with this news and were enthusiastic to learn about how they could help by Trick-or-Treating for UNICEF.

In total, we led a team of sixty club volunteers, reached out to two thousand elementary school students, and raised $1311.11 for UNICEF.

But we didn’t want to role of UNICEF to stop there. In addition to fundraising, we also wanted to increase awareness about UNICEF's work, so we contacted local media outlets for press release and news stories.

In the end, Trick-or-Treat for UNICEF wasn’t just a fundraising campaign: it was an opportunity for us to connect with younger students in our community while introducing them to global challenges faced by children of their age.

And while this campaign certainly required teamwork and collaborative planning, we knew it was one hundred-percent worth it when, on Halloween night, a young trick-or-treater arrived at my doorstep explaining the urgency to help less fortunate children and asking for donations to UNICEF!

We will never completely understand.

We will never completely understand the war. We will never completely understand the author. We will never completely understand the people, the conflict, the emotions. We can only try, try, try and to that extent, we can only feel. And that feel, that sense, that attempt, that overwhelming sadness is beyond text. It is beyond the sensuality of language, beyond linearity.

And that’s what authors attempt. Words are fragments of thoughts that writers cut and paste from civilizations of memories and broken souls. Writers write not about a time, about a story or about a war, but about the theme of universal time and love and hate and war and humanity and religion itself. That writing becomes a transcendental experience. And though it is personal, it is universally so.

But us readers will never completely understand. No one will understand the immensity of war nor the impact wars have upon individuals. No one can label love, or hurtfulness, or cowardice, and no one can judge. It is an experience cannot be encapsulated into words — words of the universality of experience, of mankind.

That becomes a part of the human experience. That becomes a book of history — no, not the verdict of public opinion, but the empirical experience of human existence. That is learned not by being known, but by being felt.

UNICEF aims to provide children with necessities for survival, but every child deserves more than just the basics. All children have the potential to succeed, yet some are not given the opportunity to do so. In accordance with UNICEF’s Child-to-Child Protection Policy, every child is entitled by birth to provision, protection, and participation.

Firstly, under provision, children should have access to shelter and education. Education is important for any child to succeed and become a productive member of the global community. While governments offer health care and other programs, a large percentage of the population does not have access to such services - a benefit that all individuals are entitled to. Secondly, under protection, children should be guarded from dangers such as child abuse and neglect. When children are not properly cared for, they hold the right to move to a safe environment where they can receive necessary attention. Thirdly, with participation, children own the right to take part in community activities and other options for growth and exploration. Accordingly, children have the right to voice their opinions and determine their futures.

Conversely, the effects of poor children’s rights are present in the recruiting of child soldiers. In places like the Congo Republic, about thirty thousand children are seized by groups such as the Lord's Resistance Army and forced to slaughter other humans in war. Child soldier armies not only risk the lives of thousands of children but also scar the emotional and psychological development of these children for the remainder of their lives. These children do not have the opportunity to pursue a productive life socially or economically. Without this chance to grow, they cannot possibly contribute to the country’s economic productivity in the future, thereby limiting the country’s development as well. However, if governments provide opportunities for free, accessible education in addition to basic human rights, more children would have the chance to be successful.

Although many forms of discrimination are practiced around the world, the predominant form is racism. In Rwanda, the conflict between the Hutus and Tutsis led to the death of nearly one million people. Systematic genocide resulted in the psychological distress of the Rwanda people from constant terror and the struggle for survival. Age discrimination has similar negative effects. In countries that lack government enforcement, many children are forced to engage in dangerous labor. To exacerbate the situation, the lack of government policies banning child labor allows employers to pay children less than adult laborers. In addition, elderly laborers receive fewer employment opportunities because of common physical restraints that come with age.

Steady progress can be made to promote children’s rights and eliminate discrimination. As a network of global citizens united by the spirit of humanitarianism, the world must work toward a solution. Ultimately, a child’s rights and his or her freedom to develop are the most valuable components of any child’s growth. Without them, we cannot move forward as a global community.

As children, we’re allowed to be stubborn: if we want something, we want it now. And if we don’t get what we want, we can throw a fit until our parents give in. Fortunately, when we finally grow out of that phase, our parents will be able to breathe a long-awaited sigh of relief.

But even then, much of that childish tenacity remains. As we grow up and learn that it’s socially unacceptable to cry and scream in a department store, we merely substitute our whining with artfully crafted persuasion.

Fast forward ten years and we’re still stubborn toddlers at heart. As high school students, we want a nice car, new clothes, and the latest technology. Add those on to the price tag of sports teams, piano lessons, and math tutoring, and suddenly four years of high school doesn’t seem so bank-account-friendly anymore.

Being a high schooler myself, I’ve witnessed first-hand the stealthy nature of these miscellaneous purchases. One day I’m paying for prom admission tickets, and before I know it, I’ve already funneled three months’ worth of allowance money into a ball gown and limousine rental. What’s a high school student to do?

We can’t stop ourselves from having needs and wants, but we can learn how to manage our money wisely. With that in mind, the Lemonade Project was born. Frustrated by the lack of financial education in my own school curriculum, I set out to create a financial literacy campaign by drawing from personal experience.

As first-generation immigrants to the United States, my parents pride themselves in being financially stable despite having to start from scratch after moving to a foreign hemisphere. Not surprisingly, the day I turned 14, my parents told me I’d have to become financially responsible for myself, hoping to instill the same ethic in me.

Want those jeans? You’ll have to work for them.

New shoes? Pay for them with your own paycheck.

At first, managing my own finances was a lot like learning a foreign language. Financial literacy is, after all, a language in its own right. But after months of trial-and-error, I learned how to allocate my paycheck and allowances, when to spend and when to thrift, and, most importantly, how to stick to a budget.

Using my first-hand experience as the basis for the Lemonade Project, I partnered with students from my school’s business classes to outline a financial education curriculum for local elementary schools. To make our curriculum applicable to young children, we adopted a theme focusing on the money skills behind a lemonade stand; a venture used to introduce the concept of personal finance to many children.

To date, what began as my one-woman financial literacy campaign has been adopted by my high school’s business department and has improved the financial fluency of over 500 local students.

I may be 15 years young, but with 20/20 hindsight, I want to help other young people become smarter, money-savvy consumers. After all, teaching youth financial literacy is a lifetime investment that pays back many times over.