Within only a few days of visiting the Access Academy for
the Asian University for Women, I was a convert. Like so
many others, I was originally drawn halfway across the
world to Bangladesh by AUW’s goal to empower rural,
refugee and underprivileged women throughout Asia. The
hope is that these young women, armed with a top-notch
international education, will venture out into the world
and assume positions of leadership, creating a network of
strong, smart women across the continent that will transform
gender roles well beyond their lifetimes. It was
inspiring stuff. Although AUW was certainly compelling in
theory, I had yet to be convinced in practical terms that
any of this would be feasible. After spending only a couple
of days observing, interviewing and learning, however,
it became clear to me that AUW, even in its first chaotic
stage, had already begun to achieve what it was striving
for in the far future. I could not think of a better time to
have visited. I saw the school at a time when it was struggling
to stand on its feet, when things were still rough
around the edges and when every day brought a host of
new challenges. Yet it seemed to me that was precisely
the moment that the spirit of the institution was established.
And whatever the odds, they seemed to be getting
it right.
One of my most vivid memories of AUW will always be the rehearsal that prepared for the imminent arrival of the new head of the Academy. We were piled into a small hall that doubled as the gym space. It was hot, even with the fans on at full blast. The girls had been assembled to practice a song in her honor under the watchful supervision of Marion, a member of student government in possession of a celestial singing voice. I had been pulled to the front of the room by the school president after making the mistake of mentioning I used to sing a cappella, so I found myself in a perfect position to survey the girls. They seemed not to notice the heat or the monotony as they chatted and leaned against each other like they had been friends for years.
Standing in a pool of sweat, I was relieved when the rehearsal finally ended and the dean of students called for everyone to sing the Access Academy song. As the familiar notes rang out, the girls’ voices came together to form one robust, united refrain. They sang of strength through sisterhood, the breakdown of boundaries, and women having the power to change the world. Gazing around the room at their bright, upturned faces, I suddenly found myself fighting back tears.
At that moment I understood very clearly what this university would be in the future—indeed, what the Access Academy had already become. It was about hope. Some of these girls had been the first women in their villages to go to university. Many of them had to battle pervasive social stigmas and resistant family members to enroll. A large number came from severely disadvantaged backgrounds. When the Access Academy began in March, the girls were timid, shy, and homesick. After a mere five months under the tutelage of a small group of dedicated WorldTeach volunteers, however, the girls had blossomed into the confident young women I saw before me. Aware of how much they had overcome to be sitting in that room, I remember thinking that to observe their transformation, to see the glow of confidence on their faces, was like glow through association; one couldn’t help but be brightened by it.
Five weeks of moments like those at the Access Academy instilled in me the firm belief that AUW will grow into the international university it aspires to become. One day down the line, this university will open its doors to young women all across the world. It will become a beacon of hope in a region where women are repeatedly marginalized and stripped of their voice. It was an honor to meet this initial batch of women, volunteers and students alike, who are paving the way for so many more to come. They have been given the chance to succeed. Almost as importantly, we have been given the responsibility and privilege to witness it.
