Dear Malala Yousafzai,

I don’t typically welcome the start of my school year. I am jolted out of sleep at 6 a.m. by my unsympathetic alarm. The shower is usually running and my sister is up. I try to prolong the nirvana and hit the snooze button. My day begins with grumbling and complaining. I head out the door to spend six and a half grueling hours in freezing, sterile classrooms trying to retain every ounce of information being thrown at me. I have come to resent school. My distaste is not for school itself as much as it is for what it produces; homework every weeknight and I often require part of Saturday and all day Sunday to complete my weekend assignments. I love to learn; I devour new information every chance I get, but I refuse to believe that doing ten hours of homework makes me smarter or more equipped for college. I feel that school has extinguished, rather than fueled my love for learning. Your autobiography, I Am Malala: The Girl Who Stood Up For Education and Was Shot By The Taliban, rekindled that love.

I live in a world where the authorities will come knocking at my door if I do not go to school. In your world they come to your door if you do. I am safe at school and high performance is expected of me. There are laws which guarantee me the same access to educational opportunities as boys. Your book gave me perspective. I used to go to bed with my mental to-do list perpetually elongating until my mind throbbed and I had a headache so miserable I could not sleep. I would pray for an ice day so that school would be canceled and I could have just a few more hours in bed to sleep; a few more hours to remain blissfully unaware of reality. I did not realize how incredibly blessed my reality was. I certainly did not want to go to school because of homework, not because of threats from the Taliban or because I feared for my life.

Just like you, I am in the top of my class. I have chosen difficult classes so that I can attend a prestigious college. I always believed that my value as a student was defined by my class ranking, being a straight ‘A’ student, how hard I worked and the social life that I often sacrificed. To “prove” myself I often delayed gratification. I went to school with five or six hours of sleep, turned down invitations to movie nights with girlfriends, and stayed home doing schoolwork late into the night. Wave after wave or school stress and responsibility crashed over my head until I completely lost sight of the shore with nothing but a question to keep me afloat. “Is it worth it?” I am Malala rescued me just before I drowned and taught me a powerful lesson: it is not the time you spend acquiring knowledge, but what you choose to do with that knowledge once you have gained it that makes it precious. The knowledge I obtain is only as powerful as I make it.

I, too have the power to change the things in the world that I believe in. I value the pursuit of knowledge and realize how fortunate I am. I will try, Malala, to have perspective with the opportunities that I have taken for granted; not to get caught up in the daily grind. Women’s rights around the world are worth fighting for. The education that is easily accessible to me simply due to my birthright as an American citizen is a blessing. My mother’s grandfather always told her “non scholae sed vitae discimus.” This means not for school but for life we learn. The belief in the intrinsic value of education is also my birthright. I also feel blessed by parents who support my educational pursuits. I feel like I was looking at education in the wrong light. The knowledge I’ve gained will give me the courage to stand up with my beliefs, naked to the criticism of the world and say “I believe I can make a difference.”

Malala, you have inspired me to make the world I love one I can be even more proud of. It is time that I took my knowledge and applied it to enhancing the world I live in.

I am Taylor. I have changed, and I will make a change.

With respect and admiration,

Taylor Wilson