Each and everyday, educational institutions welcome guest speakers to share their knowledge with students. Speakers range dramatically, from young determined activists to former politicians turned humanitarian. Students should take every opportunity to listen to these speakers – not only to hear them, but also listen to them.

It’s vital, in this day and age, for students to gain an understanding of multiple perspectives. Although a speaker may not intrigue you – they may be too right wing or left wing – it is still a valuable experience to listen to them. By doing so, students are better prepared to understand their own beliefs and perspectives.

Occasionally, there is an outlet that consistently shows various perspectives. Speak Up for Change not only addresses hundreds of issues, from literacy to technology, but it is also one of the many outlets of knowledge that cannot be ignored. On October 23^rd to 24^th, another outlet for students will be available at The Meeting House in Oakville. I have the fortunate opportunity to be amongst the guest speaker list but more than anything, I am excited to listen to the other speakers.

Fatmire Feka, Nobel Peace Prize nominee and Founder of Kids Club for Peace, is amongst the list. There are best-selling authors, CEO’s and President’s of non-profit organizations. Organizations represented include Student Reach International, Nelson Mandela’s Children Fund, Gender Equality Incorporated, Opportunity International Canada and Habitat for Humanity. The conference is called, "Why Everything Must Change."

How fortunate we are to be a drive away from such knowledge and experience. Let us never doubt the powerful impact of, not hearing, but listening. Let us always remember that our ability to listen and learn is perhaps the strongest weapon in our arsenal for a making positive and lasting change in this world.

Rwanda, July 3, 1994

The boy was crying, lying on a gurney in the outdoor hallway of the operating room. His mother stood with him, holding the side of the gurney, guarding all that was on it. Her shawl- a cheap synthetic material with a gaudy yellow floral pattern- was not African. Probably from a second hand clothing market, I thought. Her eyes inspected me with the same care that I inspected her son's wound. I noticed her headscarf, dirty from weeks of wear, stained with blood. I could feel her assessment of me: "uncertain, but my son's only chance." She adjusted her shawl, pulling it tight around her, as the nurse wheeled the gurney into the operating room.

The boy was 14, his lower right leg destroyed by a landmine. What was left of his foot hung from his calf like severed wires that made a gnarled web capturing bone, bits of flesh, a piece of a shoe. The explosion had happened two or three days before. He was febrile and already infection was tracking up towards his knee. It would have to be an above knee amputation, the first amputation I would do alone.

I cut, irrigated and tied off the arteries. In the last 6 weeks, Giovanni (one of the Physician's Without Borders Surgeons) had broken all of the surgical blades doing hundreds of amputations. Now we were using a sterilized hacksaw. In thirty minutes I had sawed off his leg. Therese took the severed limb and put it in a bucket on the floor at the end of the operating table. It stood out of the bucket, like a bent flag pole, dripping blood onto the floor.

Then she pushed through the operating room doors. One door slammed against the wall, the other swung closed. His mother screamed, "Mama-we! Mama-we y'nola" and louder again "Mama-we y' Nola", as she lunged towards her son, one hand outstretched, the other clasping her yellow shawl. She held him and stroked his forehead. The light came in through the windows, making the sweat on his brow glisten, and making the yellow cheap synthetic shawl yellower still. His leg was in a bucket, and he was alive- an imperfect offering. She held him around his head as he quietly whispered, "Mama-we, Mama-we". They were beautiful to me.

(James Orbinski - An Imperfect Offering- Doubleday Canada, 2008)

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I have two sons, aged 15 and 18. I live in an affluent country. I have been blessed. My greatest concerns for my children involve such things as their limits for internet access, weekend curfews and whether or not I have prepared them enough for their university educations. I cannot imagine being this mother as she fights for the life of her son in the middle of a genocide that saw 1 million innocent Rwandans brutally massacred. I cannot even begin to imagine. One such genocide is ongoing in Darfur. There are mothers, women, just like her right now in 2009 suffering similar horrors.

The women of Rwanda, Darfur, Afghanistan,Lesotho, Zambia, Zimbabwe, South Africa... millions of women world-wide struggling to survive in their world of poverty, political conflict and disease. I have watched some of these women, cared for some of these women. I have witnessed their struggles first hand. In Sub-Saharan Africa there are 23 million people with HIV/AIDS and 70% of them are women. The disease is wiping out the female race of the continent of Africa.

I have loved these women, wept with them, cared for them and mourned with them. I have been fascinated by their courage and their persistence in the face of such great adversity. Would I have the courage to care for my children under such circumstances? What would I sacrifice to provide for them? How would it feel to know that I was dying of a preventable disease and as if that wasn't enough, in the throws of death, I'd live with the knowledge that no one was left to care for my children. This is the ultimate in grief and suffering, the only thing worse is the plight of 15 million AIDS orphans left in the wake of the pandemic.

There isn't much I wouldn't do for my children and now, there isn't much I wouldn't do for the suffering women of the world and the orphans they have left behind.

On this International Women's Day, I honour and remember them.

Dr. Anne-Marie Zajdlik MD CCFP
Founder and Director of the Masai Centre and
The Bracelet of Hope Campaign

CRAIG AND MARC KIELBURGER
The Star, Global Voices

We're a little jealous of those who will be lining Pennsylvania Avenue tomorrow.

Anyone able to snag a coveted spot along the procession route will truly be witnessing a moment of history. We, like millions of others around the world, will be watching the historic moment on television.

Then, the world will take a collective breath as Barack Obama places his hand on the bible and recites the oath that no African-American has ever recited before.

"I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States."

As the scene unfolds, we are sure to see the same tears of joy that marked his acceptance speech back in November. But in those tears, we see not a happy ending. Rather, we see a new beginning, a new way forward and the realization that momentous change can happen in one person’s lifetime.

"More than anything, Obama's achievement as a black man in America represents the hope that historical injustices can be overcome," says Jonathan White, Professor of Sociology and Political Economy at Bridgewater State College. "Obama's election ultimately represents hope for a more humanistic and sane world order."

One of the most incredible aspects of this progress is how quickly it has come. So often we hear that real transformation takes generations - that it is idealistic to think that we can change the world in our lifetimes.

Tomorrow will stand as a day that proves this is simply not true.

This is because our history is a relatively short one. When we think about it, it was only 202 years ago that the British Parliament officially banned the slave trade. It was only 144 years ago that the Thirteenth Amendment was added to the American constitution, abolishing slavery.

Then, there are the events that happened within recent memory - events that our parents and grandparents saw with their own eyes. In 1955, Rosa Parks famously refused to give up her seat on a bus in Montgomery, Alabama. Oprah Winfrey, who had her dress for inauguration day picked out in November, was a year old at that time.

In 1968, Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated on the balcony of a Memphis hotel fighting for the cause he believed in. Rev. Jesse Jackson stood next to him on that balcony. Tomorrow, he will stand amongst the crowd watching as Obama is sworn in as President.

Tomorrow, we will witness what most never thought possible in their lifetimes. Hopefully, it will get young people excited about what they might see in their own lifetimes.

"It's now up to us to utilize this historical moment to create a future," says White. "It reminds us that we must work feverishly and with great determination to help human beings to realize their human rights."

Today the United States celebrates Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. It's a time for all of us all to remember and reflect on the not-so-distant past. Tomorrow, Obama will be sworn in as President, a symbol of just how far we have come.

Knowing this, we can start working towards the progress that could - and should - be seen in the lifetimes of the next generation.

It has been only 44 years that the Voting Rights Act banned practices responsible for the disenfranchisement of African-Americans. If, less than half a century later, that same country can make such incredible progress, imagine what we can do in the next half century on poverty, genocide, and environmental degradation.

Progress is possible and tomorrow's ceremony is proof. It's up to us to make sure that progress continues.

Craig and Marc Kielburger are children's rights activists and co-founded Free The Children, which is active in the developing world. Their column appears Mondays - take part in the discussion online at thestar.com/globalvoices.

I want to share a quote I read last month in a book written by the Aga Khan titled Where Hope Takes Root. It reads, ''We inhabit an overcrowded planet with shrinking resources, yet we share a common destiny. A weakness or pain in one corner has the tendency, rather rapidly, to transmit itself across the globe. Instability is infectious. But so is hope''

Hope is fluid, it changes from person to person and it weighs more to some than to others. There is no doubt that however unique our hope may be, we share a commonality with all those who have hope. When we hope, we believe in our reasons. Still, what we hope for is not as important as the underlying fact that we have hope.

Pluralism can perhaps be defined as the acceptance of diversity. In Canada, we celebrate pluralism in our daily lives. In this nation, citizens embrace other cultures, languages and traditions just by going to school, to the workplace or to a social outing. Tolerance is not the creed of Canadians - it is acceptance.

I sense something spreading in the air, a mixture of acceptance and hope. When each Canadian believes in hope and has hope in something, we will be taking steps. When each Canadian shares that hope with another, we will be making great progress. When each Canadian embraces the hope of another, we will have arrived at our destination. We will be in the presence of not only hope, but in the presence of pluralistic hope. The birds that travel overhead will hear a beautiful song of unity and diversity, thirty three million citizens will be singing > we have hope.

To arrive at this destination of pluralistic hope, it is vital that we begin to share our hopes. Only then will others have the opportunity to embrace it. Our hopes do not need to be philosophical or elegant, but simple and precise.

I remember being in Kampala, the capital city of Uganda, one day last summer visiting an orphanage. It was my first time going to one and beforehand, the only impression of an orphanage I had was from the play Annie. When we arrived, I remember feeling confused because this orphanage seemed more like a school. Over two hundred children were housed, each of them special in their own way.

Some of the children were unable to speak or hear, others were immobile or had missing body parts. This was not what I expected. Every single child was what would be considered here as a special case. There were children that had been abandoned, children that had no family and children that were diseased. Still, somehow, there was laughter, chatter and excitement upon my arrival.

I vividly remember walking into a room filled with elderly women. Each of them was disabled, small and aging. On a table to the side of the room was a young girl, perhaps aged 5 or 6. Upon seeing her, a tear slid quickly down my face. She was sitting on the table with both legs in full casts. Connecting the casts was a wooden stick covered in some sort of grayish plaster. She sat with her lower body motionless but her upper body swayed while her arms were shaking. I had never imagined someone could experience such pain. She gripped my hand tightly and I still wonder what she was thinking when she saw me.

She has grown up unable to separate her legs from each other. As a method of rehabilitating the girl, giving her a chance to walk one day, the orphanage nurses would forcefully separate her legs and plaster them away from each other. After two weeks in a cast, the girl was given two weeks without a cast, a cycle that was to continue until she was better.

I hope that no child ever has to suffer like her.

What do you hope for?

In the past three years I have had the privilege of leading this remarkable community in an endeavour that has just succeeded at raising a million dollars, funds that will keep 17,000 people alive in 2009 at the Tsepong HIV/AIDS clinic in Lesotho, Africa. I expected to take a moment this Christmas and enjoy the victory, the accomplishment, maybe relax a little and appreciate how tremendous a feat this was, but the wisdom and knowledge that I and my team have gained, have taken away some of our naivety, some of our joy. We have learned that the world is a very difficult and troubled place, we have witnessed unimaginable suffering and we have been seasoned by the tenacious almost herculean persistence and determination that is required of us as we continue to struggle against one of the world’s largest and most daunting crises: the AIDS Pandemic. We have been humbled.

At the annual general meeting of the Masai for Africa Board, held in December, we raised a glass to our successes, rejoiced for those whose lives our efforts will sustain and than humbly and respectfully mourned the thousands upon thousands of young lives that have already been lost and will be lost in 2009, five million to be exact.

Guelph can be proud, very proud. The entire community heard the call to create a better world for those suffering the devastation of the AIDS pandemic half a world away. Citizens from every church, every school, our university, every service club and every business stood up and became part of this compassionate revolution. People of all ages across this city took part, all wearing red and white bracelets, a symbol of our solidarity and commitment to see one country: AIDS free.

“A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices.

For Yonder breaks a new and glorious morn”

Guelphites do not need new year’s resolutions. We have already started an irresistible Revolution of Hope that this struggling world so desperately needs. Our efforts which have seen over 100,000 bracelets distributed across this city, have inspired our neighbours, with Waterloo Region poised to launch their Region of Hope Campaign in January of 2009: their goal, to raise $2.5 million by year end for Bracelets of Hope. The Students at the University of Guelph who helped inspire the Bracelet of Hope Campaign are ready to launch similar campaigns on the campuses of 10 universities and colleges in two provinces: their goal, to raise $20 million for Bracelets of Hope. Woodstock has caught the fire and has pledged another cool million.

Upwards of 25 million dollars if these amazing individuals and communities succeed and I have not doubt they will. We have lit a spark that will ignite a nation. Thirty two million Canadians, thirty two million bracelets and enough funds to assist the tiny Kingdom of Lesotho to overcome it’s AIDS pandemic and the vicious cycle of poverty in which this beautiful country is locked.

“For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn”

I yearn for that new and glorious morn, for our children and for future generations. Our world has never faced such an array of escalating human, economic and environmental catastrophes. Striving to focus our attention on another country, working diligently on pulling that country back from the brink of extinction while our country begins to face a very difficult 2009, will pull out of us those human characteristics that seem to have been lost in the last 20 years of affluent consumption and materialism: selflessness, integrity, compassion, courage, strength and honour. These are the values and characteristics that make us truly human and give us the power to move mountains. Millions of Canadians reaching out to a dying continent, regardless of our temporary troubles, has the power to save a country, transform ours and start a process of global cooperation that could overcome the serious problems the world faces and ultimately take shape as a global movement to achieve peace, prosperity and environmental stability.

I believe that new and glorious morn is within our reach. A national effort created by ordinary Canadians will create the glorious era we all hope for.

Here’s to a New Year, a year of hope, a year of change, the dawn of that new era.

Dr. Anne-Marie Zajdlik

Founder and Director of the Masai Centre for Local, Regional and Global Health

Founder of the Masai for Africa Campaign and the Bracelet of Hope Campaign

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“I have sketched a model of global change based on the idea that shared global goals, with timetables and targets, can create a slipstream of change. If the world hews to the Millennium Promises, they will induce each of us- in our personal lives, our work and our communities- to move towards the share global objectives. As the world converges toward those objectives, the force of convergence will strengthen. What seems impossible at the start, requiring billions of fragmentary and uncoordinated actions, will ultimately take shape as a global movement to achieve peace, prosperity, and environmental sustainability.

Our actions help determine whether the world converges to shared goals or breaks apart into war and distrust. The chances of success will depend on the extent to which each of us , in our many roles in society, becomes a positive force for change.”

Jeffery Sachs- Common Wealth: Economics for a Crowded Planet

Written on Friday, November 28, 2008
By: Carina Merio

Every day most of us are working to better our lives. We go to work, further our education, take lessons, meet people, read books, socialize, work out... This is the human spirit - we evolve and grow and improve in the hopes that our lives can be fruitful and good. We do these things and more, and the cycle continues, day after day, year after year. Some of us have babies and hope to pass on the fruits of our labor to our children...so that their lives will be fruitful and good.

How wonderful it is to live where we do, with opportunities abound, that enable us to be who want to be and perhaps live as we would like or at least close to how we would like!

After Africa this summer I realized something about life beyond all of this. Something that my dear grandfather taught me when I was too young to truly understand...that we are all here to give a gift in return for the gift that we have been given (the gift of life of course). Our gift should not be material nor self-improvement, nor should it be anything that could disappear... including human life. This gift would be unidentifiable...something you can't see.... and it is certainly a gift that we can give every single day for the rest of our lives. When the holiday season arrives, the cloud of consumerism wafts through the spirit of what lies buried sometimes… How easy it is to recall… the spirit of who we are by giving a gift. The gift is simply to care.

Who we are as a person is not defined by how often we work out, how much money we have, what clothes we possess, our status...it is how we perceive life. Do we judge? Do we fight? Do we love unconditionally or with condition? Do we seek? Do we control? Do we have faith? Do we care? These are what we take with us when we are done here...AND these are the things that have an effect on the world and people around us.

By reaching out to others, we are reaching into ourselves and nourishing the best part of ourselves which is our soul - our spirit. This holiday how wonderful would it be, if we substituted one hour of shopping to simply reading a world newspaper and understanding what people are going through across the oceans. What would that do, you ask? It would enlighten, create concern and awareness, create dialogue, enable a deeper appreciation for where we are...it could mean more than just simply reading the stories, if one reads with care.

How wonderful would it be if instead of attending a social event we took the time for just two hours to serve food at a home for the elderly homeless in NYC? You couldn't even ask what good that would do! You would probably smile more sincerely and deeply doing the latter.

So, by reaching out, we can reach in and rediscover who we are and why our spirit is important to the world around us. By giving the gift of a tiny fraction of our time to honor the world that we live in, we could in fact...make a difference. We could make the holidays about what is most important.

Commit to doing something small and special this Christmas.... Something that you can't touch but touches another human being.

Care :-)

To read more written by Carina, visit http://reachoutreachin.blogspot.com/

Published in the Ontarion: November 13, 2008

By: Abid Virani

Imagine spending months in a small rural community, under the blazing equatorial sun, having to drive hours to the nearest banking machine. Last summer in Africa, I visited my parents' home and volunteered as an English teacher, but my experiences outside of teaching are the ones I remember the most.

I inevitably stumbled into situations where volunteers were needed and embraced those opportunities. Through volunteering, I received countless lessons in humility, kindness and faith, but the underlying tone of my trip came from a basic realization through interactions with children.

It was my second day in Uganda when I was standing atop the utmost tower of a Kampala mosque and admiring the rolling landscape. I climbed down the steep stairs to meet three siblings running in my direction; Elizabeth, the eldest, was the only one able to speak English. After only a few minutes, Elizabeth asked me to come to her home.

I followed her into the worst housing I have ever seen – the slums. Drawing eyes from several people, Elizabeth lead me to meet her family. Their home was one room, 10 by 10 in size, shared by nine people. Throughout the day, I was welcomed by each of them and learned about their lives. The children had dreams of becoming engineers, pilots, photographers.

Elizabeth wanted to become a doctor. Of course, I thought, a girl living in severe poverty wanted to make money, be of a higher class, hold a respected position in society. When I asked why, she responded simply, "Doctors help people. And people need help."

While in Tanzinia, I spent time at IMUMA, an orphan and vulnerable children centre. The name stands for Imani Upendo na Matumaini, meaning faith, love and hope. I arrived just in time to hear the calling for food. Children all came running towards Mama Ashah, a parent who opened her home to any child in need, to get their tidbit of maize and tea. A group of four or five children would fill one plate and sit in a sharing circle.

My eyes wandered to a little boy, perhaps the age of four and visibly malnourished, walking slowly towards Mama Ashah. She noticed him coming and picked up a small plate, filled it with food for one and gave it to him. He weakly took the plate and sat on his own, away from the rest of the children. My body moved instinctively and I quietly sat down next to him, conscious of every move I made.

Ten minutes later, I sat there entertaining myself by doodling in the dirt. And then I was whacked on my shoulder. My mind raced; I was worried I had offended the boy somehow. I looked up to see him holding out his dirty hand filled with food, a simple gesture offering to share.

Although I grew up thousands of miles away from IMUMA, I found a slight parallel between my life and those of the children. There were two wooden boxes sitting in the dirt as toys. When I was growing up, I always loved playing with boxes. Whether it was a spaceship, car or transporting machine from the future, I hated when other people went in my box or moved it.

I'm not sure if the two wooden boxes at IMUMA are ever imagined as anything other than two wooden boxes, though. Still, the children tie strings to them, pull each other around and jump off of them making funny poses mid-air. Although we similarly enjoyed playing with boxes, there was a striking difference that will never leave my mind. While the children were playing on the field, two walked back to play with the wooden boxes. Nobody else was around and they could have had a box each, but they decided to leave one unused and to share the other.

The generations preceding these children have taught them the importance of sharing and caring for others. I don't know if that is the message Western generations have taught us.

The Western generations preceding us have permitted millions of people to fall into poverty. They have allowed 15,000,000 children to be orphaned in sub-Saharan Africa because of a disease that is preventable. They managed to find $800 billion in a week to spark a slow market, but have not found the $180 billion needed to end poverty and stop the transmission of HIV/AIDS.

The Western generations that follow us, our children, will not say this. Our children will say the Western generation preceding them learnt how to share.

If Africa was affluent and the West was struggling, the world would be drastically different. From my experience, I learned they would share. I don't think Africa would have let the gap between rich and poor reach such astronomical levels. I think their values of sharing and caring for others would have resulted in a much healthier global community.

Unfortunately, the world of opposite affluence will likely never exist. Still, I reflect on what I realized each day during my travels; Africa may be able to learn from the West, but the Western world has a few things to learn from Africa.