You need to sign in or sign up before continuing.
Take a photo of a barcode or cover
cecusack 's review for:
I Am Malala: The Girl Who Stood Up for Education and Was Shot by the Taliban
by Malala Yousafzai
It seems Malala has become a household name in the States, and rightfully so. A week ago, I finished I Am Malala: The girl who stood up for education and was shot by the Taliban. I feel kind of odd reviewing an autobiography. Who am I to pick apart someone else’s story? It makes me think of this quote I recently came across on Tumblr. David Mitchell (Black Swan Green) wrote, “If you show someone something you’ve written, you give them a sharpened stake, lie down in your coffin, and say, ‘When you’re ready’.” I can tell you that I do not come holding a stake.
However, this isn’t true for everyone. I read some negative reviews on Malala’s autobiographical account. Most were either upset about how she portrayed Pakistan, or they believe she is wrongfully using her story for a quick, easy buck. I would like to address these issues before divulging my thoughts. First, I can somewhat understand why others are upset about her portrayal of Pakistan. This book may be some readers’ only exposure to Pakistan, and one may leave the book viewing Pakistan as a grossly undeveloped state without computers, an educational system, or running water. I also believe this can be true even for such a “developed” state as our own great US of A. Depending on where you are, who you are, and your resources, this effects your access to such privileges, which they are. Even in our own state, education is a privilege, not a right-go ahead and argue with me. I wish it was a right. There are people without computers, who can’t afford schooling, and go without running water or who go hungry. It may be hard to believe, but we have people below the poverty line. Shocking. Because capitalism, the poverty cycle, and lack of adequate governmental support, this is some people’s reality. I am not here to talk about the US, global poverty, or my socialist inclinations; I merely want to state that other people have different experiences, and income and geography influence and shape these experiences. I believe this to be true for Malala. Can one validly be angry over this description of Pakistan if it is Malala’s experience of it and if this is her autobiography? I’m going to argue no.
To attend to the second question, I’m not going to say because I read Malala’s autobiography that I know her intentions because people are too complex for that, and publishing companies can skew and stretch truths for sales. That being said, I can’t imagine when she was on the dyna coming home from school that she was daydreaming about how that day might be the day she would finally get shot, live to tell about it, and get her big break in Western media. Because it’s impossible to ignore that she has received international recognition and her book is a best-seller, it so happens that she has attained a level of fame. However, I am a reader, not her financial advisor, nor her therapist. I don’t care what she does with the money, but as an outsider, it appears that it is being used nobly, and because I’m not her therapist, and because it’s irrelevant to the gestalt of her message, I am not questioning how a change in economic status makes her feel.
*takes breath-I just realized I was holding it.* I loved I Am Malala. I first heard of her a year or two ago, and I was anxious to read her book. Just like her speech she gave at the UN, this book was inspiring. I found it refreshing to hear a different voice speak on education. I thought of the MDGs, and my hope was restored, “Someone gives a shit. There is someone actively addressing one.” Her famous quote, “Let us pick up our books and out pens…They are our most powerful weapons. One child, one teacher, one book and one pen can change the world” (along with some passages that involved the theme of her finding her voice and inspiring others to find their voices) made me think of her as a younger Audre Lourde. I wholeheartedly back those thoughts on using words and education to make the world a better place, and I advocate for that journey of not only finding one’s voice, but also using it. What I want to say to this is I am glad Malala found hers and shared it with us.
To be more specific in terms of education, I enjoyed that her story is about women’s education. A.) it’s her life, B.) it is so necessary to reveal the troubling discrepancies between girls’ and boys’ schooling. The gender gap is atrocious, and I am thankful someone is addressing it to the general public. Checking my privilege, I realize my fortune of being born where I am and having a family that values/d my education. Malala is also blessed to have familial support. The difference is I grew up in a culture where it is a norm that girls go to school, and while there are gender differences in the US education system, they are not as blatant or oppressing. I thought her story was a thumbs up to feminists, both in terms of women’s education and religion.
Speaking of religion, I appreciated the constant presence of Islam throughout her story. There are some reviewers who aggressively assert that Malala is “Westernized,” and I think one must first define what is Western. I do not intend to engage in some harangue over semantics, but I think that clarifying what one means by western is imperative for fruitful dialogue on this topic. Are people arguing she is western because she does not wear a burka? Because she “sold out” to publishers? Because she is an IDP in a England? There were some sections in the book that I actually wanted to pair with and analyze based on Samuel Huntington’s “The Clash of Civilizations.” It’s hard not to think of it when a story deals with an organization such as the Taliban and with “West versus the Rest” being so obvious. Speaking in the I, it seems to me that she is not western chiefly because she doesn’t consider herself so. We need to be careful when we assign other people identities. She writes throughout the book of feeling displaced, her longing to return home, of identifying as Pashtun. She shows how she interprets the Quran to support her actions and beliefs, which, regardless of one’s religion, religious people do. For religious people, religion often shapes their sense of self and actions (or they change their beliefs to fit their behavior, thus reducing the cognitive dissonance). She convinced me of her love for the Swat valley. She showed me that she values aspects of her culture that is not a part of “Western” culture. It is as though what others may label Western, I want to label universal. Maybe that’s because I’m a US citizen.
To end on a lighter note, a final aspect I welcomed in her recapitulation was her age was transparent. It can be easy to forget with someone so accomplished. There were times where I thought to myself or mentioned to a friend, “She spoke at the UN on her 16th birthday. I got high. Fuck.” Or “what am I doing to promote women’s rights, and she is younger than me?!” However, there are segments where her age is clear, and for my own insecurities and shortcomings perhaps, I enjoy it. She speaks of possessive friendships, her interests outside of girls’ education, and her relationships with her nuclear family that remind the reader of Malala’s adolescence.
To sum up things, there is a significant amount to take away from her story. Whether it makes you check your privilege or leads you to look up information of global education or brings you to listen to the voice of a girl, it’s hardly possible to get through this book and not do or feel something, which I believe makes for an excellent read.
However, this isn’t true for everyone. I read some negative reviews on Malala’s autobiographical account. Most were either upset about how she portrayed Pakistan, or they believe she is wrongfully using her story for a quick, easy buck. I would like to address these issues before divulging my thoughts. First, I can somewhat understand why others are upset about her portrayal of Pakistan. This book may be some readers’ only exposure to Pakistan, and one may leave the book viewing Pakistan as a grossly undeveloped state without computers, an educational system, or running water. I also believe this can be true even for such a “developed” state as our own great US of A. Depending on where you are, who you are, and your resources, this effects your access to such privileges, which they are. Even in our own state, education is a privilege, not a right-go ahead and argue with me. I wish it was a right. There are people without computers, who can’t afford schooling, and go without running water or who go hungry. It may be hard to believe, but we have people below the poverty line. Shocking. Because capitalism, the poverty cycle, and lack of adequate governmental support, this is some people’s reality. I am not here to talk about the US, global poverty, or my socialist inclinations; I merely want to state that other people have different experiences, and income and geography influence and shape these experiences. I believe this to be true for Malala. Can one validly be angry over this description of Pakistan if it is Malala’s experience of it and if this is her autobiography? I’m going to argue no.
To attend to the second question, I’m not going to say because I read Malala’s autobiography that I know her intentions because people are too complex for that, and publishing companies can skew and stretch truths for sales. That being said, I can’t imagine when she was on the dyna coming home from school that she was daydreaming about how that day might be the day she would finally get shot, live to tell about it, and get her big break in Western media. Because it’s impossible to ignore that she has received international recognition and her book is a best-seller, it so happens that she has attained a level of fame. However, I am a reader, not her financial advisor, nor her therapist. I don’t care what she does with the money, but as an outsider, it appears that it is being used nobly, and because I’m not her therapist, and because it’s irrelevant to the gestalt of her message, I am not questioning how a change in economic status makes her feel.
*takes breath-I just realized I was holding it.* I loved I Am Malala. I first heard of her a year or two ago, and I was anxious to read her book. Just like her speech she gave at the UN, this book was inspiring. I found it refreshing to hear a different voice speak on education. I thought of the MDGs, and my hope was restored, “Someone gives a shit. There is someone actively addressing one.” Her famous quote, “Let us pick up our books and out pens…They are our most powerful weapons. One child, one teacher, one book and one pen can change the world” (along with some passages that involved the theme of her finding her voice and inspiring others to find their voices) made me think of her as a younger Audre Lourde. I wholeheartedly back those thoughts on using words and education to make the world a better place, and I advocate for that journey of not only finding one’s voice, but also using it. What I want to say to this is I am glad Malala found hers and shared it with us.
To be more specific in terms of education, I enjoyed that her story is about women’s education. A.) it’s her life, B.) it is so necessary to reveal the troubling discrepancies between girls’ and boys’ schooling. The gender gap is atrocious, and I am thankful someone is addressing it to the general public. Checking my privilege, I realize my fortune of being born where I am and having a family that values/d my education. Malala is also blessed to have familial support. The difference is I grew up in a culture where it is a norm that girls go to school, and while there are gender differences in the US education system, they are not as blatant or oppressing. I thought her story was a thumbs up to feminists, both in terms of women’s education and religion.
Speaking of religion, I appreciated the constant presence of Islam throughout her story. There are some reviewers who aggressively assert that Malala is “Westernized,” and I think one must first define what is Western. I do not intend to engage in some harangue over semantics, but I think that clarifying what one means by western is imperative for fruitful dialogue on this topic. Are people arguing she is western because she does not wear a burka? Because she “sold out” to publishers? Because she is an IDP in a England? There were some sections in the book that I actually wanted to pair with and analyze based on Samuel Huntington’s “The Clash of Civilizations.” It’s hard not to think of it when a story deals with an organization such as the Taliban and with “West versus the Rest” being so obvious. Speaking in the I, it seems to me that she is not western chiefly because she doesn’t consider herself so. We need to be careful when we assign other people identities. She writes throughout the book of feeling displaced, her longing to return home, of identifying as Pashtun. She shows how she interprets the Quran to support her actions and beliefs, which, regardless of one’s religion, religious people do. For religious people, religion often shapes their sense of self and actions (or they change their beliefs to fit their behavior, thus reducing the cognitive dissonance). She convinced me of her love for the Swat valley. She showed me that she values aspects of her culture that is not a part of “Western” culture. It is as though what others may label Western, I want to label universal. Maybe that’s because I’m a US citizen.
To end on a lighter note, a final aspect I welcomed in her recapitulation was her age was transparent. It can be easy to forget with someone so accomplished. There were times where I thought to myself or mentioned to a friend, “She spoke at the UN on her 16th birthday. I got high. Fuck.” Or “what am I doing to promote women’s rights, and she is younger than me?!” However, there are segments where her age is clear, and for my own insecurities and shortcomings perhaps, I enjoy it. She speaks of possessive friendships, her interests outside of girls’ education, and her relationships with her nuclear family that remind the reader of Malala’s adolescence.
To sum up things, there is a significant amount to take away from her story. Whether it makes you check your privilege or leads you to look up information of global education or brings you to listen to the voice of a girl, it’s hardly possible to get through this book and not do or feel something, which I believe makes for an excellent read.