Ethiopian Ties Continue to Ripple Between Seattle and Ethiopia.

As I am reviewing the results of last year’s event, I am left wondering how did it all come together so beautifully. I just sent out the thank you cards to many supporters letting them know they had done the unimaginable – raised almost double what we thought was an audacious goal for a first time event. (I found everything takes longer when the entire organization is supported by volunteers if you are wondering why "thank yous" for a December gala are going out in April.)



For me, the picture of two of my children captured our objectives perfectly. They are sitting at the bottom of the podium where a live auction is proceeding around them supporting literacy half a world away. The power of a book has drawn them in. The little hand of the Ethiopian/American girl clutches tightly her Dutch/Greek/American big brother’s neck as he gives voice to the words she cannot yet read. Both of them are completely transported outside of that room and into the story. The event was about reading, dreaming, providing opportunity, coming together, and celebrating .. . I felt all in the air that night.

The seed was planted when I first met Yadesa Boija, an Ethiopian artist. I asked him for a letter and something to bring to the Bahir Dar library (our first Ethiopia Reads effort) in Leyla’s birth town. He suggested a African Union flag which bore his winning design and his signature. I asked him to also include some inspiring words from someone who had walked their path in a letter to be read to the children. He said as we were parting, “You should do something in Seattle. If you do, I will help you.” For some reason, this idea, which I had not considered before, seemed like something I was supposed to do.

As we planned late last fall (this year I am starting much earlier!), pictures arrived from the the Mercado School and Bahir Dar library. The flag is seen hanging proudly in front in Mercado with the children’s excitement radiating outward. In Bahir Dar, a teacher is reading Yadesa’s letter to a class of children with his flag suspended between two more in the background. They are amazing images for me -- magical even.




I was happy to share these touching images. Yadesa had not gotten to visit the library as my family had in the summer and seen the joy and hope it brought to that community. His response was immediate and enthusiastic – “You made my day!” Yadesa is a shining example of how to make a difference in whatever unique way best suits you – encouraging and inspiring, providing a bit of yourself through your talents, or collaborating.

These children were evidence of ripples caused by taking a step forward in faith – first from Ethiopia - Yadesa and Leyla’s birthplace -- to Seattle where both families live now. Then the ripple reversed and headed back to Ethiopia through Yadesa’s words and art to the neighborhood of his childhood and to the first "Leyla’s Library" in her hometown (funded by our friends and family). These children and their teachers returned ripple back to us in Seattle through the wonder of photography and the internet. With the literacy program funded through this event and continued support of Ethiopia Reads, we look forward enabling those ripples to ebb and flow between Seattle and Ethiopia -- gaining momentum and energizing more and bigger dreams with each return.

Another strong believer in the ripple effect, Jane Kurtz, one of the founders and a tireless volunteer for Ethiopia Reads, relayed a story Yadesa shared about his early years growing up in Mercado (which means market). He accompanied an older brother to check out books at a library. When he asked to do the same, he was told could not because he was too young. He then sat in front of the building and said he was going to stay there until they let him check out a book. Finally, they relented after seeing this young boy was as good as his word.

Through Yadesa's sharing - whether his history, his paintings, or his words -- he gives life to ideas about the power of education, collaboration, art and reading to open hearts and facilitate big dreams.



He, along with many others, are helping us and Ethiopia Reads give more boys and girls the opportunity to do the same. As the logo designed by Yadesa so beautifully illustrates – open books + open hearts = big dreams.

I recently saw a great quote I thought summed up how we (which included volunteers, supporters and attendees) pulled off an amazingly successful first event:

“Believe and act as if it were impossible to fail."

--Charles F. Kettering, American inventor.

We are taking that approach again this year . .stay tuned.

Unsung Heroes – The Teenagers You Don’t Hear Enough About!

I know they are everywhere. I just don’t always see them.

Our fundraising auction dinner is over. It is hard to describe, “How was it?” I tried to wrap up my thoughts in a neat package any number of times. But I can’t seem to catch it all into something I can share easily. For me, it was a blur of activities, instructions, planning and worrying – in the middle of my ordinary life with three busy kids and two challenging careers. I had one clear thought at one a.m. in the morning walking to my car that day when most everything else was a haze. I knew heroes, often hidden in the shadows, made our event the huge success it was. I would like to recognize them here. I will start with my husband Michael's Kentwood High School National Honor Society students.

About twenty volunteered to help. Some of them are pictured above proudly wearing their "Open Hearts" t-shirts. I remember the first one arrived hours before the event started. I mistook him for a member of the museum staff because he came dressed in a suit. Soon a number more joined him. Only one student, of Ethiopian origin, had a more personal reason for his participation. All spent over ten hours nonstop doing the thankless jobs required to pull off a dinner charity auction. Little did I appreciate before this marathon day what is truly required.

We began in the early morning packing up the auction items that covered our first floor and transported them to the Northwest African American Museum in Seattle. We rented tables and dishes to save money over using a caterer. They had been delivered but volunteers needed to unpack and bring them out from a back room. Others then set them up. We had a silent auction of 100+ items. Volunteers scurried as the minutes ticked closer to when the first guest arrived to get all displayed to maximum effect on long tables lining the museum halls. Round tables in the main room were transformed into an inviting dining experience, and the desserts lined up into a tempting array, to turn sweet-tooths into dollars for literacy. Then followed the constant drip drip of urgent tasks after the guests began appearing -- water glasses to be filled, wine bottles opened, snacks put out, misplaced items located, questions answered. . . and on and on. . .

Two of the students provided a bit of drama as the program began. When a guest requested water for tea, two young men ran to the kitchen and located the water pot still unfortunately filled with cold water. They hurriedly brought it from the kitchen to the beverage station and plugged it in, apologizing to the guests for the oversight. Suddenly, the power for the PA and music was lost. Turns out the fuse was not set up to take the surge of energy required to make a large amount of frigid water hot. But it was only a momentarily diversion. And I assured the two everything was fine when I saw their crest fallen faces.

Throughout the evening, if you were paying attention, you could see these students moving quickly from one set of tasks to the next. They laughed and smiled with each other as they toiled. They raised issues they did not know how to handle but otherwise soldiered on. The camaraderie was palpable in the kitchen area where they congregated to grab a snack or drink whenever the activity died down a bit. At the end of a long evening, the guests were checking out and getting ready to drive home with their treasures. But these students were beginning the next set of duties. They cleared the tables of dishes and glass wear used by the 170+ guests, scraped leftover food into huge garbage bins, gathered the rented items and put them back into the storage room where they had found them, broke down the myriad of boxes that just hours before housed the silent auction selection and made numerous trips to the malodorous dumpster behind the museum.


I asked myself -- Why? What was in it for them?

Unlike our guests, it wasn’t to enjoy a wonderfully, prepared Ethiopian meal. They ate subway sandwiches in the kitchen standing up. It wasn’t the program. They were busy closing down the silent auction areas and staging the items for checkout and delivery to the winners when the artist, dancers, poet and writer provided their poignant connections to Ethiopia. It wasn’t the excitement of participating in or watching the live auction. They were delivering desserts, filling up water glasses and dropping off items to the winners while the auctioneer was plying his craft. These teenagers gave up a Saturday night to do the behind the scenes drudgery of helping a cause that most had no connection to – happily, willingly and with no tangible reward.


So why then? I honestly don’t completely know.

I think the fact my husband sets an example by giving up much of his personal time to help them is a big part of it. I also know these kids are high achievers who have experienced what it takes to succeed and aren't afraid of hard work. But I am not convinced these represent the complete explanation. I believe what they exhibited was their character and their heart. I do know for certain that without them the event could not have happened.

They were an unexpected source of inspiration for me – during a night with much to be inspired about already. These teenagers and their counterparts around the globe are our future. And if this evening provided a glimpse into what lies ahead, I see much reason to hope.

Happy Birthday Happy Homecoming 2011 - Am I Your Heart, Mommy?

“Am I your heart, Mommy?” Leyla inquired, her brown liquid eyes burrowing into mine. “Yes, you are my heart,” I responded. She threw her arms tightly around my neck and said, “I love you Mommy!!” Then she planted a big kiss on my lips and ran off to play. The question resonated as I am working on my first big fundraising event called “Open Hearts Big Dreams.”

Three years ago today, on my birthday, Leyla joined our family. I find myself reflecting on the passage of another year in a different way now. This amazing little person, born half way around the world into circumstances that are still difficult for me to fully comprehend, changed our lives in so many ways. She secured her place in the family with our first glimpse of her referral picture below. How much she has grown compared to a recent photo where her personality shines out of her brilliant smile.





Leyla is truly my heart (as are her brothers). She also opened my heart to her birthplace and the children who remain there. The statistics are staggering and heartbreaking. But I found Mother Teresa’s words so empowering, “If you can feed just one, then feed one.”

After Leyla had been home a year, I felt the weight of the question I could imagine my daughter asking me one day, “What did you do for the children who remained there?” Looking at her gave the desperation in her home country a face and the potential to make a difference a sense of urgency. When well meaning people ask me the “what if” question, I can’t even go there without tearing up. To think of this world without the light that emanates from her is unimaginable.

I started this blog and drew inspiration from my amazing daughter. I gained many Ethiopian connections in the last two years who gave me additional insight. Michael and I chose to support literacy so our Open Hearts (and the ones of those who support this effort) can fuel BIG DREAMS.

Before Leyla came into our lives, I had no idea of the enormity of the need:
• Less than 50% of Ethiopia’s children can go to school.
• Nearly 25% of first graders drop out of school.
• Only 36% of the population can read.
• The average adult makes less than $0.50 (US) per day.

Leyla the chubby baby is gone, replaced by a confident, sassy little girl. A friend of mine commented recently, “She is a firecracker just like her mother.” When I look into her face, I see a bright future full of promise. Her doctor has joked, “She will be a CEO one day,” because she likes giving direction. Although she lost much in the process of international adoption and we don’t take that lightly, she gained the ability to dream big dreams because for her education is a given.

I want that same ability for the girls and boys who remain in her East African country. Dreams shouldn’t depend on where you were born. My birthday wish is that everyone who reads this post gives something to help our efforts – could be as little as $2 - the equivalent to 4 days pay in Ethiopia. Just give what you can. (If you prefer to send a check, contact me.)

Open Hearts enable Big Dreams which every child deserves. Leyla is pictured with the children of the Mercado community we are supporting in this fundraiser. We are trying to make a difference one reader at a time . .. . for Leyla and for them.




"Once you learn to read, you will be forever free." Frederick B. Douglass

Open Hearts Big Dreams . . .lots of chills . . .and miles to go -- the anatomy of an accidental auction

How on earth did I get myself here? I find myself asking myself multiple times during the week. I have a demanding full time job, three very active engaged kids, a husband with his own demanding job and we both support a variety of local not for profits. “Here” is the middle of planning a dinner auction to complete funding for our second Ethiopia Reads library and a general literacy program through Tesfa Foundation in Mercado – the poorest section of Addis Ababa. My main experience with auctions is attending them – and that has only been a handful. I learned a bit more about the inner workings from being on a not for profit board. I thought how hard can it be .. I probably should have investigated further. But a little voice in my head said best not to think about it too much or you’ll chicken out. And so I leaped!

As the planning is progressing, I discovered a pattern. Each time I think I am at a stage where I can breathe, I learn some new wrinkle or requirement. And I sense the tentacles of panic waiting to take hold. First, I thought, "Get a venue lined up and a date and things will be well on their way." I find a wonderful spot at the Northwest African American Museum on December 17 and they give me a break on the usual fee. Success!?! But then, I ask myself, "How we brand our event?" The name and visual design needs express all the hope we want to sustain. Luckily I had able collaborators with Yadesa Bojia, an Ethiopian born Seattle artist, and Jane Kurtz, an acclaimed children’s author who grew up in Ethiopia.

I wanted to convey how travel, books and art all have the capacity to open your mind and heart to the diverse world. I also wished to express how I found if you open your heart, and release your fears; big dreams become possible. As Yadesa and I brainstormed, I learned he grew up in the same neighborhood this library and literacy program would serve – I felt chills. After a few passes, we settled on Open Hearts – Big Dreams. I loved it. It expressed so much of what our journey has been and continues to be. As we open our hearts, we enable our own big dreams as well as those of children half way around the world who need our help to enable theirs.

But the euphoria of creative success was short lived as another thought presses in, “What will we eat??” My mind immediately went to our traditional birthday dinner with Leyla at a favorite Ethiopian Restaurant called Kokeb. I call the proprietor and explained what I was planning. She was anxious to help and expresses her view we should all do our part in the world. I could have hugged her through the phone. She then laid out what she could do as a small business owner. She even suggested if we want to spend no money, I could contact a number of restaurants for donations to put together a potluck. I briefly consider this. But then I remember the laundry list of things I have ahead of me and decide the paid option was better.

For entertainment, I felt fortunate to have Yadesa and Jane willing to speak. I also reached out to a young poet I had written about previously. He shared his poem with me at that time but we had not connected since. I did not hear back which did not surprise me much. Then a few days ago, I got an email. He was taking the night off work to read the poem I requested. He also wanted to read a new poem that he was writing just for the event. Many more chills. ...

I have audacious goals for this auction – because I believe if you don’t have those, why bother! To make those a reality, I needed a live auction. But where to find an auctioneer? I asked a friend who recently raised funds for Children’s Hospital and she provided hers. I met him at a local Starbucks. He told me to be on the look out for Santa Claus. Sure enough he bore a striking resemblance to that children’s favorite. I learned as we chatted he is a foster dad, focuses his efforts on children’s charities and his boss was born in Ethiopia . . .chills - chills .. . .

We are now in the throes of inviting what seems everyone we know in Seattle and asking friends and every business we have frequented with help procuring items. My amazing husband is getting us get student volunteers from his school’s national honor society. We are shooting for 150 guests, 100 silent auction items, 10-15 live auction items to raise a grand total of $25,000. . . currently seems like a very Big Dream!

I still have miles and miles to go it seems. . . drinks, a sound system, desserts, centerpieces, an on-line store and much more .. .but the chills along the way give me confidence. The leaping was just the start – I just landed on a ledge just a bit farther down the mountain, at which point I needed to leap again to make progress. I see many more leaps and ledges. What keeps me leaping is all the Open Hearts I encounter -- items arrive, invitations are accepted, volunteers step forward, donations come -- and the Big Dreams the children of Mercado deserve to dream!!

Providing Tesfa – Hope – in Ethiopia and Beyond

When I started this blog and named it “ethiopian ties”, I was thinking of the ties we had to that East African country through adopting our daughter. As I have blogged since, those ties multiplied in many wonderful and unexpected ways. Our library planting in particular opened up our lives to people who amaze and inspire me . . .each with their own tie to Ethiopia.

Since we completed funding for our Bahir Dar Library, we are now working on funding for one in Addis Ababa. Jane Kurtz of Ethiopia Reads introduced us to Dana Roskey of the Tesfa (Amharic for hope) Foundation who is working to provide elementary education to parts of Ethiopia in desperate need of this hope. One of his schools is in the poorest part of Addis – Mercado.

When we were in Ethiopia this summer, we were fortunate to attend the Mercado kindergarten class graduation. Dana explained a bit about the area and the school as our driver struggled to navigate the dirt roads filled with pot holes and people on our way to the school . Dana joked he had chosen a challenging vocation for someone who easily gets motion sickness. The evidence of extreme poverty was palpable and everywhere I looked. But so was the optimism of the children – laughing and playing in the streets. Their faces were open and curious as we passed. And they warmed with a welcome smile and a twinkle in their eyes if we looked directly their way.

The graduation ceremony was the epitome of the joy that comes with hope. The parents were sitting expectantly – dressed in their best and crowded into the small rooms. The kids and I can be seen in the back of the room soaking it all in as Michael was our photo journalist.


The children came in cap and gown. At five years of age, I found this a particularly poignant sight. I could see in my mind their older versions in similar graduations as this education will likely change the course of their lives.


Dana stands out in this room. A tall lanky " ferenge" (a white foreigner in Amharic) as he refers to himself. He gives off an amazing positive energy while also coming across as completely laid back. He shakes hands with each student looking them directly in the eye. I could feel the pride and genuine fulfillment these children’s milestone provide to Dana.


But lurking there is also lingering sadness. Dana’s fiancé, Leeza, (Fregenet Woubshet), a 29-year-old American citizen of Ethiopian origin, was tragically killed in a car accident seven years earlier. His response to this unbearable loss was to take on the cause of fulfilling her dream to serve the children in her native land. His Tesfa Foundation has done just that -- opening seven schools in those seven years.

But I was also interested in the person. And what drove him in his mission of hope. Meeting Dana and spending time with him gave me a sense but I wanted to know more. I learned that he also blogged. Feeling a bit like an intruder in his personal thoughts and experiences, I read through a number of his entries one evening, into the wee hours when the house is quiet. I was humbled in so many ways. Our family is giving back because of the tremendous gift that came into our lives through our daughter. Our efforts multiple our joy as we have the opportunity to aid children like her in her native land.

His efforts were born out of tragedy. And he faces constant painful reminders. Even as he brings positive change to her world, he can’t share it in the same way he could if she were still physically here. My eyes filled with tears and rolled down my cheeks as I read his words, especially those written around the difficult anniversaries. (I learned there we had been with Dana in Ethiopia during the last anniversary week.) And I pondered – what could have been versus what is - so bittersweet. The tesfa phoenix rises for so many children out of the ashes of heartbreak. I find my eyes filling again with those tears as I write.

From my vantage point, the youngsters who attend his schools are now his children. And his relentless focus and drive, he does for them, for her, for Ethiopia, and for himself. We are honored to be able to bring a library to one of his schools and do our part to honor her, to support him and to spread hope in a country that gave us such an amazing gift. One more ethiopian tie is formed.

Bahir Dar, Ethiopia . . .Leyla’s Birthplace and Home to School Yejatit (February) 23 and the first "Leyla Library" through Ethiopia Reads

Bahir Dar, Ethiopia is just a short plane ride from the capital city of Addis Ababa. But it is a world away in many other respects. We were excited to visit Leyla’s birthplace and the site of our first "Leyla Library" through Ethiopia Reads housed in a school named “Yejatit (February) 23” which is V-day,"Victory of Adwa," for Africa (the actual celebration day March 2). Bahir Dar is a small city nestled at the foot of Lake Tana – the third largest lake in Africa. There is abundant and varied bird species flourishing by the water. The foliage is tropical and beautifully green wherever you look unlike the arid, mountainous climate of Addis.

We arrived early in the morning. And as seemed the norm, there was some confusion over the plan. We thought we were visiting our library at 9 a.m. but our guide said noon. Michael called our Tesfa (which fittingly means "hope" in Amharic) representative and confirmed the original time was correct. We stopped briefly at our hotel to freshen up and then headed to the school. I felt butterflies of anticipation dancing in my middle.

As we entered the gate into an open courtyard, we were greeted with clapping and cheering by a welcoming procession of kids and adults holding bouquets of freshly picked flowers. We were treated as visiting dignitaries. Michael was the most comfortable with this attention, shaking hands with each person looking them straight in the eye as he greeted them. Dimitri remarked that he wished he could be more like that too. We were brought into a small room with a long narrow table. Only the adults joined us. There was a solemnity to the occasion even as Leyla, obvious to it, flitted and skipped around the table, presenting an incongruous contrast.

We presented the plaque dedicating the library to our daughter and exchanged pleasantries for a bit. Then the head mistress pointed to one gentleman and said he was to give a speech. His voice was soft but resonated as he spoke from his notes but obviously also from his heart. He spoke of the children and the opportunity the library within this school represented. After he finished, each of the adults seated around the table added their own words of gratitude and stressed the importance of the access to books and an education to provide hope to the children this school served which include 2000 youngsters, a number of whom had the additional challenge of being hearing impaired.

I felt tears well up in my eyes as I listened. I felt unworthy of such high accolades. We raised money but they were doing the difficult hands on, day to day work of molding young lives under the most challenging of circumstances with limited resources. I also was filled with a sense of how much one library, funded by many in a different part of the world, had the potential to bring about true change in this community and beyond. To my core, I was humbled. I felt the weight of responsibility to do more to be worthy of a fraction of the high praise freely bestowed on us this day.

After the speeches concluded, a silence hung comfortably in the air as we were left to our thoughts while we waited for the librarian to arrive. After a few moments, there was word she was coming and we headed outside. The head mistress explained to me as we walked slowly across the dirt field navigating the rocks and high weeds to the library building that the librarian was a former student of hers. She beamed with pride as she spoke of her pupil turned colleague. You can see her beautiful smile in this picture as she laughs with Leyla and me.

The library building was an small, unassuming rectangular brick building. But for this school, it was a huge and valued new asset. It represents hope for raising the level of education and ambition to succeed among their youth. Our funding would provide the books, the shelves, and reading areas to transform it from an open space with a couple tables and a few piles of books into a working library. The librarian and school officials would ensure it was incorporated into the school curriculum.

As my boys, ten and fourteen, walked around the small room, I could see on their faces they were comparing this modest room to the libraries they are accustomed to in their schools back home. Even fully furnished with a complete set of books, it would be a far cry from what they took for granted. We did get a sense of how small the world has become when my ten year old delightedly discovered a dusty copy of his favorite Harry Potter book from the series among the small piles that sat on sparse shelves. Our family, with a number of the school officials in front of the library building, are pictured below.

By the time school resumes in the fall for the students fortunate enough to attend, this first "Leyla Library" will be ready to welcome them. For all those who contributed financially, by joining our cause, or with words of encouragement, rest assured you made a different in the lives of these 2000 kids. They in turn will touch many others as the amazing effect of adding hope and possibility in the lives of the young ripples out from Bahir Dar, Ethiopia back into the world.

Going Back to Ethiopia - Closing A Circle - Dream big! Dream peace! And work hard to achieve it!!

November 2008, we traveled to Ethiopia to meet our daughter and bring her back to our home in the Pacific Northwest. We are returning to her homeland with her as a three year old and her two brothers, now ten and fourteen. We have a completely different purpose. We want to connect our daughter with her birthright and introduce our boys to the land of their adored little sister. I see evidence of the connection they already have in images like this ID card of my eldest son (from the year his sister came home). Where unbeknownst to me, he added an Ethiopian stamp. We are also fulfilling
a promise we made to ourselves to help the children of this amazing land.

Our connections to Ethiopia have grown. We connected with Jane Kurtz, a renowned children’s author who grew up in Ethiopia and is a tireless volunteer for Ethiopia Reads. We met Melissa Faye Greene, a award winning journalist who wrote about the challenges in Ethiopia related to AIDS and HIV and is an adoptive mother of 5 including 4 from Ethiopia. We found Yadesa Bojia (or rather he found us on facebook) the artist who designed the African Union flag and himself a shiny example of the possibilities if you fight to overcome the circumstance many Ethiopian children face. The bonus is Yadesa lives in our town.

We are also working with Dana Roskey who lost his Ethiopian fiance in a tragic car accident as part of our efforts to put another Ethiopia Reads library in Addis. He is now fulfilling his fiance's dream of providing education and hope to the children of her ancient country. We are going back thanks to the help of Habtu Tekeba, an Ethiopian travel agent, with some assistance from Jane Kurtz and her brother, is making a better life and future for his family and helping those like us honor our connections. We are also grateful for the chance to honor the man who was instrumental in bringing our daughter safely to us. He is a protector of children and is fighting each day to save one more . . Ato Teklu. We can’t wait to show him how much little Leyla Marie Fasika has grown and flourished since he last saw her.

We were asked to draft the language to put on the plaque for the first Ethiopia Reads library in Bahir Dar -- funded through generous contributions of friends, colleagues, family and perfect strangers. Michael and I wanted it to reflect our hope for Ethiopia and her children as well as our love for our daughter.

This library is for the children of Bahir Dar, birthplace of Leyla Marie Fasika, beloved daughter of Ellenore and Michael Angelidis and cherished sister of Dimitri and Damian Angelidis.

"Once you learn to read, you will be forever free." Frederick B. Douglass.



But the more I thought, it didn’t seem enough. I wanted to inspire these children (some shown in the photo above) to see hope for their future and the role reading and education could play in making it more than just a dream. I reached out to Yadesa and asked if he would be willing to help me. Yadesa responded beyond my expectations. He provided a signed African Union flag he designed to adorn the wall of the new library. He gave me posters and copies of a cookbook with his art that was a tribute to the Lucy exhibit he designed in Seattle (which ironically occurred when we were last in Ethiopia). And he committed to visit the children when he is in Ethiopia.

When talking about the flag, he told me, “I ordered another flag and it just arrived. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with it, honestly. Then you reached out and I knew that was where the flag was meant to be.” I asked if he would also be willing to provide some words to the kids. He wrote a beautiful letter in Amharic for the children of Bahir Dar (translated below for us English speakers).

Dear Students;

The great African leader Nelson Mandela once said "Education is a power weapon to change the world."

In today’s world, where science and technology is at its highest peak, you might feel like the lack of school, materials and all the basic necessities around you might keep you from playing a vital role in your country as well as community. But with all the hardship around you, education will help you to win the battle just like Mandela said.

Dear students, with education there is no mountain you can't climb and there is no dream you can't achieve. You are defined not by the poverty and struggle around you but by the effort you put to better yourself.

When I was a little kid, I used to worry about my future until I understood education is my ticket out of poverty. The poverty around me helped me to be dedicated to my goals. The poverty around me did not hinder me from dreaming, instead it pushed me to go after my dream.

So I beg you and urge you to seek education to change your future and your country’s future. You are tomorrow’s leaders and your dedication will better it for generations to come. Dream big! Dream peace! And work hard to achieve it!!

From Ethiopia to Seattle, back to Ethiopia, and then back to Seattle and so it goes on - - much has come full circle in 2.5 short years. Yadesa’s words are for all of us: Dream big! Dream peace! And work hard to achieve it!!