The long view.

I remember talking with my father, the two of us in Kabul during SOLA’s early days. I’ve spoken about my father before — I wrote a story for The Washington Post last year that starred him pretty prominently — and he’s always supported me. Always.

I remember us talking, and I remember him telling me: “Your school is a date tree, and you’re a young woman planting it. It can take decades to bear fruit. You won’t be young when it comes. You might not even be alive.”

My dad’s honest. I understood what he was saying, and I’m sure you do too. He was telling me to take the long view. Change takes time, and he was right.

Last month, the world marked the 10th anniversary of International Day of the Girl. SOLA has been a part of my life for every one of those 10 years. It’s been profound seeing the world change, seeing more and more communities and governments and individuals honoring and celebrating girls and their accomplishments.

And then there’s Afghanistan. The only nation on Earth where girls are barred from secondary school. A nation where girls struggle for the dignity that comes with education, and find new ways to pursue their dreams, and are targeted for it, and die because of it.

I’ve written about this too. I cannot tear my eyes away from the faces of the Hazara girls murdered in their tutoring center in Kabul, attacked only because of who they were and who they could become.

SOLA stands alone, the only physically functioning school where Afghan girls can receive secondary educations. A transplanted tree, rooting down in new soil. Admissions season is over. From 180 applications, we’ve offered enrollment to 27 Afghan girls from five nations, and they’ve begun arriving in Rwanda on a rolling basis.

As they come, I think back on October and International Day of the Girl. This was our 2nd celebration of IDG in exile. Last year, our girls centered the day around their commitment to their Afghan sisters back home. This year, we made an effort to expand the definition of sisterhood to include girls in Rwanda. We invited students from local schools to campus, and I watched Rwandan girls stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Afghan girls, laughing and playing games and listening to guest speakers and having discussions of their own.

I wish you could have seen it.

The long view is optimism in the face of agony. It’s commitment to the potential of educated girls, because educated girls become educated women who change the world. And maybe even save it.