Do you believe one person can change the world?
When that question was posed at a recent book club meeting, nearly every hand in the room went up in agreement.
Now, do you believe YOU are that person?
We all looked around. We were in a room full of at least forty people, mostly older women, in the La Jolla Library. We shifted in our seats. One brave woman finally raised her hand.
I believe it. I believe that each person on this earth is capable of changing it.
So why didn’t I raise my hand?
Was it modesty? Was I afraid of what people would think of me?
What were the others thinking? (Who am I? How can I make a difference? Why should I bother recycling when most people don’t? Why bother voting? My one vote won’t change anything. Why should I worry about someone else’s problems? I’ve got my own problems to take care of.)
Or was it peer pressure that silenced me? No one else had their hand up so I wasn’t going to be the first to stick mine out. I didn’t want that kind of public scrutiny.
Why not?
How can I believe I can change the world if I can’t even take that first step?
If I can’t even raise my hand to speak for myself, how can I expect others to do so? As Isabel Allende has said, with all of the privileges we have in this country, we have an obligation to help others, especially other women, who have less than we do--less money, less education, less power.
That takes courage.
No, more than that. It takes audaciousness:
1. A willingness to defy the status quo, the restrictions put upon us by society in the form of laws, religion, manners or tradition.
2. A sense of adventure.
3. A spirited fearless daring.
That’s what it takes.
Are we so wrapped up in our own world (work, relationship, TV) that we can’t be bothered to step outside our comfortable little boxes?
Well, one person can make a difference.
One person has.
The book in question at that discussion was Three Cups of Tea, the selection for the One Book, One San Diego program this year. The idea behind the program is to get everyone in the city to read the same book. (Talk about audaciousness. Getting everyone in the city to read a book would be a miracle. The same book? That would be a revolution.)
"How can Americans say they are making themselves safer?" Pakistani Brigadier General Bashir Baz is quoted in the book, as he and Greg Mortenson watch a live CNN feed from Baghdad in the fall of 2003 of wailing Iraqi women carrying children's bodies out of a bombed building. "Your President Bush has done a wonderful job of uniting one billion Muslims against America for the next two hundred years."
"...Osama is not a product of Pakistan or Afghanistan. He is a creation of America. Thanks to America, Osama is in every home. As a military man, I know you can never fight and win against someone who can shoot at you once and then run off and hide while you have to remain eternally on guard. You have to attack the source of your enemy's strength. In America's case, that's not Osama or Saddam or anyone else. The enemy is ignorance."
Greg Mortenson has dedicated his life to promote education and
literacy, especially for girls, in remote, volatile regions of Pakistan and Afghanistan. He has established over 61 schools
Mortenson has gained the trust of Islamic leaders, military commanders, government officials and tribal chiefs from his tireless effort to champion education, especially for girls.
When the porcelain bowls of scalding butter tea steamed in their hands, Haji Ali spoke. “It you want to thrive in Baltistan, you must respect our ways,” Haji Ali said, blowing on his bowl. “The first time you share tea with a Balti, you are a stranger. The second time you take tea, you are an honored guest. The third time you share a cup of tea, you become family, and for our family, we are prepared to do anything, even die,” he said, laying his hand warmly on Mortenson’s own. “Doctor Greg, you must make time to share three cups of tea. We may be uneducated. But we are not stupid. We have lived and survived here for a long time.”
“That day, Haji Ali taught me the most important lesson I’ve ever learned in my life,” Mortenson says. “We Americans think you have to accomplish everything quickly. We’re the country of thirty-minute power lunches and two-minute football drills. Our leaders thought their ‘shock and awe’ campaign could end the war in Iraq before it even started. Haji Ali taught me to share three cups of tea, to slow down and make building relationships as important as building projects. He taught me that I had more to learn from the people I work with than I could ever hope to teach them.”
If you want a truly amazing story of how one person can make a difference, read the book. Even better, go hear Greg Mortenson himself. He will be in San Diego this week, speaking at various places around town.
I want to go to Camp Pendleton. For one, in all my 18 years in San Diego, I have never once stepped foot on a military base. Second, I want to hear what Mortenson has to say, especially to a room full of Marines. Finally, I want to hear the questions that the audience has for him. I have a lot of questions myself. And this time, I will be there, with my hand up in the air.
That’s the first step. 
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