Semra Seifu learned the basics of teaching at an unusually young age: She was only seven years old when she set up her first classroom in her Addis Ababa, Ethiopia home.
She would line up school notebooks on her bed, arranging them in neat rows, just like the desks at her actual school. Once the classroom was complete, she would call her students to order and begin the day’s lesson.
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Coming to the United States from Afghanistan is not an easy move. But for Haseena Niazi, it only took until November 23 – and her first bite of turkey – for her to realize it wouldn’t be so bad.
To Haseena, her family is everything. She remembers as a child – she’s the youngest of 12 – sitting around the dinner table, listening to her siblings’ tales from school and her father’s from his office. Even though she was too young to add her own stories, she still enjoyed hearing theirs.
On November 23, a mere three months after her move from Kabul to the U.S., she found herself sitting around a different dining room table – this time with her newfound American family – celebrating Thanksgiving.
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It wasn't exactly how I had planned to arrive in Algiers. I had envisioned a much more elegant, carefree entrance, where I would gather my luggage and manage the airport crowds feeling relaxed and ready for three days of vacation.
Revisiting my breakfast on my two-hour flight from Rabat, being told by the flight attendants that I was the first person ever to cry on their flight, and then suffering through a 45-minute line at immigration with my head spinning and a slight fear that they wouldn't let me in... well, that was how it really happened.
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I met a young woman in Kabul whose story I want to share. We were in the lobby of the prestigious private high school where she taught. It was a hot afternoon in September, yet she wore a floor-length black dress and light blue headscarf wrapped closely around her face, not even a strand of hair peeking through.
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When I think about my time in Kabul, Mursal and her friends come to mind. The images that stick in my head are not ones of violence, poverty or devastation. They are of routine activities and everyday dreams.
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Some people are preparing for the world to end Dec. 21, but communities in Guatemala are preparing in other ways: developing and marketing tourism routes that celebrate Mayan history.
Dec. 21 marks the end of the 13th Bak’tun Cycle of the Mayan calendar. The end of one cycle, according to Mayan tradition, means the beginning of a new era – and potentially the end of this world.
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Sheikh Hammad Hadji Muhammad is treating the spread of HIV and AIDS in his Ethiopian village with coffee. And the treatment is working.
As an elder and an imam, Sheikh Hammad holds a place of honor in his village and at the coffee ceremonies that are central to its social life.
He is using that level of honor from his villagers to bring real issues to their regular coffee ceremonies; most importantly, HIV/AIDS.
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“Chadians let’s stand up
Chadians we stand up
And build our country
Let’s go and build our country
Let’s go and vote the right person to lead”
In the United States, it’s “Rock the Vote” – a national effort to engage and build political power for young people through celebrity endorsements and mainstream media. Or it’s the many visits politicians take to colleges and universities during their campaign that excite and rally the youth to vote and make the change they want to see in their political system.
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