We must fulfill Kennedy's dream

By Wali M. Osman

This weekend marks the 40th anniversary of President John F. Kennedy's assassination. He touched many lives, some far away from home. To those of us who were too young to remember his presence and feel his energy, he remains that magical figure. And for good reason.

It was March 1964, the beginning of the new school year. It was the second year of English as a foreign language, and we were excited at the prospect of learning English from a native speaker for the first time. Now that we knew how to spell our names, say "Hello," "What is your name?," "How are you?," and a few other things, we couldn't wait to learn English from an American.

There were 25 or 30 of us in the class, all boys, 13 and 14 years old, from all over the country. Our class, Section B, was one of 30 or so sections of eighth grade (high school sophomores) in Kabul's only boarding school for boys from the provinces where there were no middle and high schools.

I cannot be sure, but her name was something like Mrs. Kappel (or Keppel or Koppel). When she arrived for the first class, it marked a new era: We were going to learn English correctly. Within a few weeks of the class going well, Mrs. K invited us to her house for tea and cookies. Her husband, another volunteer teaching education, was there to serve tea.

I wish I could remember how the discussion turned from learning English to politics, but somehow it did. We had some notion of President Kennedy, what happened to him and the Peace Corps volunteers who were now teaching us English in a land so far away. What I remember from that discussion is how Americans elected a president every four years.

We, the Afghans, on the other hand, had a king, who had been there a long time but hardly was admired by any.

At some point, Mrs. K said that we had to stop talking about politics because she was not there to indoctrinate or something like that.

Then the discussion turned to ordinary things such as living standards in America versus those in Afghanistan. Peace Corps volunteers were by no means among the rich foreigners, as were diplomats and U.S. mission personnel who lived in some of the best houses in the city, but they lived comfortably. Mrs. K had a cook and a gardener, thanks to a surplus of labor in Kabul. Someone asked who was paying for this and Mrs. K answered, I believe, that the U.S. government was. The next question was where the U.S. government got all the money. Money was the last topic until we had finished all the cookies and drank all the tea, which took a couple of hours.

Mrs. K explained that Peace Corps volunteers were there to share their way of life with us, the Afghans, and help us learn about them.

Because Mrs. K wanted to help us learn English, she made us an extraordinary offer: She would set up an after-hours class for those of us who wanted to study more intensely. Within a week, an after-hours class was in session and attendance was voluntary. Those who signed up were given a test to determine what level of effort Mrs. K would have to put into this endeavor.

When the special class started, with 10 or so of us, it quickly became a much more effective path to learning English. Those who were motivated to learn English, potentially a license to higher education at some Kabul University colleges where English was the medium of instruction and, conceivably, a scholarship to America, had found the best way to learn English. Besides, there were few extracurricular activities. There was government radio but no TV. There were only government newspapers. By coincidence or design, the school was just a block from the Kabul University campus, which was expanding rapidly.

Mrs. K, I believe, was from New York. We got more from this gentle and warm woman than learning English. We got a bird's eye view of the American system. We, the students from rural areas, would often talk about why the lives of our English teacher and her husband were better than practically anyone we knew.

The only people who lived lives of luxury were the royal family and its cronies. There often was no answer, but the one thing we agreed on was that the essence of these people's success must have been education.

Peace Corps volunteers, an important part of President Kennedy's legacy, probably did not change the world, but they touched many lives.

Learning English from Mrs. K and those who followed enabled kids like me to find our ways to many good things, including America, which then sounded like a dreamland.

The truth is it still does, and it should. This is why it is essential that we succeed in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Four decades later, President Kennedy's vision of a world where we learn about others and enable them to learn about us is even more appropriate. The lasting truth about American ideas and ideals is that liberty matters. It not only enables individuals to learn, it enlarges their intellectual and production possibilities.

We need to share evidence of the American experience — good, bad and all — with others so they see for themselves how a free society evolves and why each person counts. This is not to say that all Afghans, all Arabs and all Muslims would accept what we have to share, but those who would are the ones we cannot leave behind, not any more.

Granted, reality on the ground is harsher in certain ways than when the first Peace Corps volunteers went to work, but the promise is vast.

There are 1.2 billion to 1.3 billion Muslims, a quarter of the world's population, and only a minority would have us believe that the majority of Muslims want to live in the past. It is not true. It has never been true.

What is true is this: Most Muslims are no different, genetically or otherwise, from other folks who want better lives for themselves and their children. What is different is that those determined to derail any dialogue among reasonable people have resorted to desperate measures, which have to be defeated, both on the battlefield and in the classroom.

Afghanistan is not even near where it should be, but it is better off without the Taliban and Osama bin Laden. Iraq is arguably worse; we get body bags practically every day, but that is the price we have to pay. It may be easy for those like me to say this, but there is no other way.

If we have to pay with blood and flesh to make Kennedy's vision a reality, we have to do it. President Kennedy, I believe, would approve.

Wali M. Osman is a Hawai'i resident.