2 minute read

On Tap from the Pub

Next Article
Good Work

Good Work

By Tom Field

Executive Summary:

Advertisement

Encouragement is powerful; but retracting your own authority can result in an even greater power.

I didn’t stop her

Malala Yousafzai is a champion. The now 24-year old Pakistani wants all girls to have access to education; a seemingly obvious privilege most of the world takes for granted. Of course that’s not the case in oppressed areas, such as countries controlled by Taliban. She shared her story on the Stanford Graduate School of Business podcast “View from the Top;” and it was the catalyst of her earliest years that made me want to call my own three daughters, as well as share what she said with you.

Malala’s father was asked often about whether there was anything he did to inspire his young daughter to become such an advocate and powerful voice—and force—for change and standing up for girls and women who weren’t permitted to go to school, work wherever they wanted, or even go to the market without a male escort (even if that escort was a little baby brother).

“People would ask my father what he did,” Malala recounted. “And he told them, ‘it was what I DIDN’T do.’”

“I didn’t stop her.”

Four powerful words. A man shouldn’t have power to stop or allow a woman from doing anything; but here was a society where those distinctions don’t just happen—they are expected.

Parents, of course, have to stop their children at times. Prevent harm, dissuade bad decisions, inform and advise before proceeding. But Malala’s father believed Malala was heading in the right direction. A direction unlike the expectation, unlike the custom, unlike the societal norm, unlike the law itself.

So, why did I want to call my “girls” after hearing Malala’s story? I wanted to make sure I didn’t stop them. I wanted to apologize if they reminded me of times where I might have stopped them after they had reached an age where they should have been able to make their own decisions. I also know that you can stop someone in ways that go beyond the command and the words. A subtle disapproval, a show of disappointment, a holding on to long-standing beliefs, traditions, and even one’s world view.

Surely, we don’t stop women here, in our country, in our time, anywhere close to the way they are oppressed in places like Afghanistan, right? I think we can indeed celebrate the freedom women have to pursue most opportunities. But we’re still not where we need to be. A lot of inequalities remain; the majority are under the surface.

Depending on the definition, I’m a feminist or I’m not a feminist. But I do believe one of the best tributes any fellow could have bestowed (particularly a father) is to simply affirm: “He didn’t stop me.”

This article is from: