For Malala

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As a young girl growing up on the South Side of Chicago, my biggest challenges were walking to and from school. An older classmate at my middle school had been recently murdered by a neighborhood boy that she knew, so my parents were a wee bit apprehensive. I have never forgotten her name nor the circumstances surrounding her demise. It lived with me, breathed with me every day. Other than that, I had a very normal, ice cream and apple . . .

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