[His Holiness Pope Francis Filmed in Vatican City First shown at TED2017] Good evening – or, good morning, I am not sure what time it is there.
Regardless of the hour, I am thrilled to be participating in your conference.
I very much like its title – "The Future You" – because, while looking at tomorrow, it invites us to open a dialogue today, to look at the future through a "you."
"The Future You:" the future is made of yous, it is made of encounters, because life flows through our relations with others.
Quite a few years of life have strengthened my conviction that each and everyone's existence is deeply tied to that of others: life is not time merely passing by, life is about interactions.
As I meet, or lend an ear to those who are sick, to the migrants who face terrible hardships in search of a brighter future, to prison inmates who carry a hell of pain inside their hearts, and to those, many of them young, who cannot find a job, I often find myself wondering: "Why them and not me?"
I, myself, was born in a family of migrants; my father, my grandparents, like many other Italians, left for Argentina and met the fate of those who are left with nothing.
I could have very well ended up among today's "discarded" people.
And that's why I always ask myself, deep in my heart: "Why them and not me?"
First and foremost, I would love it if this meeting could help to remind us that we all need each other, none of us is an island, an autonomous and independent "I," separated from the other, and we can only build the future by standing together, including everyone.
We don’t think about it often, but everything is connected, and we need to restore our connections to a healthy state.
Even the harsh judgment I hold in my heart against my brother or my sister, the open wound that was never cured, the offense that was never forgiven, the rancor that is only going to hurt me, are all instances of a fight that I carry within me, a flare deep in my heart that needs to be extinguished before it goes up in flames, leaving only ashes behind.
Many of us, nowadays, seem to believe that a happy future is something impossible to achieve.
While such concerns must be taken very seriously, they are not invincible.
They can be overcome when we don't lock our door to the outside world.
Happiness can only be discovered as a gift of harmony between the whole and each single component.
Even science – and you know it better than I do – points to an understanding of reality as a place where every element connects and interacts with everything else.
And this brings me to my second message.
How wonderful would it be if the growth of scientific and technological innovation would come along with more equality and social inclusion.
How wonderful would it be, while we discover faraway planets, to rediscover the needs of the brothers and sisters orbiting around us.
How wonderful would it be if solidarity, this beautiful and, at times, inconvenient word, were not simply reduced to social work, and became, instead, the default attitude in political, economic and scientific choices, as well as in the relationships among individuals, peoples and countries.
Only by educating people to a true solidarity will we be able to overcome the "culture of waste," which doesn't concern only food and goods but, first and foremost, the people who are cast aside by our techno-economic systems which, without even realizing it, are now putting products at their core, instead of people.
Solidarity is a term that many wish to erase from the dictionary.
Solidarity, however, is not an automatic mechanism.
It cannot be programmed or controlled.
It is a free response born from the heart of each and everyone.
Yes, a free response!
When one realizes that life, even in the middle of so many contradictions, is a gift, that love is the source and the meaning of life, how can they withhold their urge to do good to another fellow being?
In order to do good, we need memory, we need courage and we need creativity.
And I know that TED gathers many creative minds.
Yes, love does require a creative, concrete and ingenious attitude.
Good intentions and conventional formulas, so often used to appease our conscience, are not enough.
Let us help each other, all together, to remember that the other is not a statistic or a number.
The other has a face.
The "you" is always a real presence, a person to take care of.
There is a parable Jesus told to help us understand the difference between those who'd rather not be bothered and those who take care of the other.
I am sure you have heard it before.
It is the Parable of the Good Samaritan.
When Jesus was asked: "Who is my neighbor?" - namely, "Who should I take care of?" - he told this story, the story of a man who had been assaulted, robbed, beaten and abandoned along a dirt road.
Upon seeing him, a priest and a Levite, two very influential people of the time, walked past him without stopping to help.
After a while, a Samaritan, a very much despised ethnicity at the time, walked by.
Seeing the injured man lying on the ground, he did not ignore him as if he weren't even there.
Instead, he felt compassion for this man, which compelled him to act in a very concrete manner.
He poured oil and wine on the wounds of the helpless man, brought him to a hostel and paid out of his pocket for him to be assisted.
The story of the Good Samaritan is the story of today’s humanity.
People's paths are riddled with suffering, as everything is centered around money, and things, instead of people.
And often there is this habit, by people who call themselves "respectable," of not taking care of the others, thus leaving behind thousands of human beings, or entire populations, on the side of the road.
Fortunately, there are also those who are creating a new world by taking care of the other, even out of their own pockets.
Mother Teresa actually said: "One cannot love, unless it is at their own expense."
We have so much to do, and we must do it together.
But how can we do that with all the evil we breathe every day?
Thank God, no system can nullify our desire to open up to the good, to compassion and to our capacity to react against evil, all of which stem from deep within our hearts.
Now you might tell me, "Sure, these are beautiful words, but I am not the Good Samaritan, nor Mother Teresa of Calcutta."
On the contrary: we are precious, each and every one of us.
Each and every one of us is irreplaceable in the eyes of God.
Through the darkness of today's conflicts, each and every one of us can become a bright candle, a reminder that light will overcome darkness, and never the other way around.
To Christians, the future does have a name, and its name is Hope.
Feeling hopeful does not mean to be optimistically naïve and ignore the tragedy humanity is facing.
Hope is the virtue of a heart that doesn't lock itself into darkness, that doesn't dwell on the past, does not simply get by in the present, but is able to see a tomorrow.
Hope is the door that opens onto the future.
Hope is a humble, hidden seed of life that, with time, will develop into a large tree.
It is like some invisible yeast that allows the whole dough to grow, that brings flavor to all aspects of life.
And it can do so much, because a tiny flicker of light that feeds on hope is enough to shatter the shield of darkness.
A single individual is enough for hope to exist, and that individual can be you.
And then there will be another "you," and another "you," and it turns into an "us."
And so, does hope begin when we have an "us?"
No.
Hope began with one "you."
When there is an "us," there begins a revolution.
The third message I would like to share today is, indeed, about revolution: the revolution of tenderness.
And what is tenderness?
It is the love that comes close and becomes real.
It is a movement that starts from our heart and reaches the eyes, the ears and the hands.
Tenderness means to use our eyes to see the other, our ears to hear the other, to listen to the children, the poor, those who are afraid of the future.
To listen also to the silent cry of our common home, of our sick and polluted earth.
Tenderness means to use our hands and our heart to comfort the other, to take care of those in need.
Tenderness is the language of the young children, of those who need the other.
A child’s love for mom and dad grows through their touch, their gaze, their voice, their tenderness.
I like when I hear parents talk to their babies, adapting to the little child, sharing the same level of communication.
This is tenderness: being on the same level as the other.
God himself descended into Jesus to be on our level.
This is the same path the Good Samaritan took.
This is the path that Jesus himself took.
He lowered himself, he lived his entire human existence practicing the real, concrete language of love.
Yes, tenderness is the path of choice for the strongest, most courageous men and women.
Tenderness is not weakness; it is fortitude.
It is the path of solidarity, the path of humility.
Please, allow me to say it loud and clear: the more powerful you are, the more your actions will have an impact on people, the more responsible you are to act humbly.
If you don’t, your power will ruin you, and you will ruin the other.
There is a saying in Argentina: "Power is like drinking gin on an empty stomach."
You feel dizzy, you get drunk, you lose your balance, and you will end up hurting yourself and those around you, if you don’t connect your power with humility and tenderness.
Through humility and concrete love, on the other hand, power – the highest, the strongest one – becomes a service, a force for good.
The future of humankind isn't exclusively in the hands of politicians, of great leaders, of big companies.
Yes, they do hold an enormous responsibility.
But the future is, most of all, in the hands of those people who recognize the other as a "you" and themselves as part of an "us."
We all need each other.
And so, please, think of me as well with tenderness, so that I can fulfill the task I have been given for the good of the other, of each and every one, of all of you, of all of us.
Thank you.
Billie Jean King: Hi, everyone!
(Applause) Thanks, Pat.
Thank you!
Getting me all wound up, now!
(Laughter) Pat Mitchell: Good!
You know, when I was watching the video again of the match, you must have felt like the fate of the world's women was on every stroke you took.
Were you feeling that?
BJK: First of all, Bobby Riggs -- he was the former number one player, he wasn't just some hacker, by the way.
He was one of my heroes and I admired him.
And that's the reason I beat him, actually, because I respected him.
(Laughter) It's true -- my mom and especially my dad always said: "Respect your opponent, and never underestimate them, ever."
And he was correct.
He was absolutely correct.
But I knew it was about social change.
And I was really nervous whenever we announced it, and I felt like the whole world was on my shoulders.
And I thought, "If I lose, it's going to put women back 50 years, at least."
Title IX had just been passed the year before -- June 23, 1972.
And women's professional tennis -- there were nine of us who signed a one-dollar contract in 1970 -- now remember, the match is in '73.
So we were only in our third year of having a tour where we could actually play, have a place to compete and make a living.
So there were nine of us that signed that one-dollar contract.
And our dream was for any girl, born any place in the world -- if she was good enough -- there would be a place for her to compete and for us to make a living.
Because before 1968, we made 14 dollars a day, and we were under the control of organizations.
So we really wanted to break away from that.
But we knew it wasn't really about our generation so much; we knew it was about the future generations.
We do stand on the shoulders of the people that came before us, there is no question.
But every generation has the chance to make it better.
That was really on my mind.
I really wanted to start matching the hearts and minds to Title IX.
Title IX, in case anybody doesn't know, which a lot of people probably don't, said that any federal funds given to a high school, college or university, either public or private, had to -- finally -- give equal monies to boys and girls.
And that changed everything.
(Applause) So you can have a law, but it's changing the hearts and minds to match up with it.
That's when it really rocks, totally.
So that was on my mind.
I wanted to start that change in the hearts and minds.
But two things came out of that match.
For women: self-confidence, empowerment.
They actually had enough nerve to ask for a raise.
Some women have waited 10, 15 years to ask.
I said, "More importantly, did you get it?"
(Laughter) And they did!
And for the men?
A lot of the men today don't realize it, but if you're in your 50s, 60s or whatever, late 40s, you're the first generation of men of the Women's Movement -- whether you like it or not!
(Laughter) (Applause) And for the men, what happened for the men, they'd come up to me -- and most times, the men are the ones who have tears in their eyes, it's very interesting.
They go, "Billie, I was very young when I saw that match, and now I have a daughter.
And I am so happy I saw that as a young man."
And one of those young men, at 12 years old, was President Obama.
And he actually told me that when I met him, he said: "You don't realize it, but I saw that perezdonald@example.net.
And now I have two daughters, and it has made a difference in how I raise them."
So both men and women got a lot out of it, but different things.
PM: And now there are generations -- at least one or two -- who have experienced the equality that Title IX and other fights along the way made possible.
And for women, there are generations who have also experienced teamwork.
They got to play team sports in a way they hadn't before.
So you had a legacy already built in terms of being an athlete, a legacy of the work you did to lobby for equal pay for women athletes and the Women's Sports Foundation.
What now are you looking to accomplish with The Billie Jean King Leadership Initiative?
BJK: I think it goes back to an epiphany I perezdonald@example.net.
At 11, I wanted to be the number one tennis player in the world, and a friend had asked me to play and I said, "What's that?"
Tennis was not in my family -- basketball was, other sports.
Fast forward to 12 years old, (Laughter) and I'm finally starting to play in tournaments where you get a ranking at the end of the year.
So I was daydreaming at the Los Angeles Tennis Club, and I started thinking about my sport and how tiny it was, but also that everybody who played wore white shoes, white clothes, played with white balls -- everybody who played was white.
And I said to myself, at 12 years old, "Where is everyone else?"
And that just kept sticking in my brain.
And that moment, I promised myself I'd fight for equal rights and opportunities for boys and girls, men and women, the rest of my life.
And that tennis, if I was fortunate enough to become number one -- and I knew, being a girl, it would be harder to have influence, already at that age -- that I had this platform.
And tennis is global.
And I thought, "You know what?
I've been given an opportunity that very few people have had."
I didn't know if I was going to make it -- this was only 12.
I sure wanted it, but making it is a whole other discussion.
I just remember I promised myself, and I really try to keep my word.
That's who I truly am, just fighting for people.
And, unfortunately, women have had less.
And we are considered less.
And so my attentions, where did they have to go?
It was just ... you have to.
And learn to stick up for yourself, hear your own voice.
You hear the same words keep coming out all the time, and I got really lucky because I had an education.
And I think if you can see it you can be it, you know?
If you can see it, you can be it.
You look at Pat, you look at other leaders, you look at these speakers, look at yourself, because everyone -- everyone -- can do something extraordinary.
Every single person.
PM: And your story, Billie, has inspired so many women everywhere.
Now with the Billie Jean King Leadership Initiative, you're taking on an even bigger cause.
Because one thing we hear a lot about is women taking their voice, working to find their way into leadership positions.
But what you're talking about is even bigger than that.
It's inclusive leadership.
And this is a generation that has grown up thinking more inclusively -- BJK: Isn't it great?
Look at the technology!
It's amazing how it connects us all!
It's about connection.
It's simply amazing what's possible because of it.
But the Billie Jean King Leadership Initiative is really about the workforce mostly, and trying to change it, so people can actually go to work and be their authentic selves.
Because most of us have two jobs: One, to fit in -- I'll give you a perfect example.
An African American woman gets up an hour earlier to go to work, straightens her hair in the bathroom, goes to the bathroom probably four, five, six times a day to keep straightening her hair, to keep making sure she fits in.
So she's working two jobs.
She's got this other job, whatever that may be, but she's also trying to fit in.
Or this poor man who kept his diploma -- he went to University of Michigan, but he never would talk about his poverty as a youngster, ever -- just would not mention it.
So he made sure they saw he was well-educated.
And then you see a gay guy who has an NFL -- which means American football for all of you out there, it's a big deal, it's very macho -- and he talked about football all the time, because he was gay and he didn't want anybody to know.
It just goes on and on.
So my wish for everyone is to be able to be their authentic self 24/7, that would be the ultimate.
And we catch ourselves -- I mean, I catch myself to this day.
Even being gay I catch myself, you know, like, (Gasp) a little uncomfortable, a little surge in my gut, feeling not totally comfortable in my own skin.
So, I think you have to ask yourself -- I want people to be themselves, whatever that is, just let it be.
PM: And the first research the Leadership Initiative did showed that, that these examples you just used -- that many of us have the problem of being authentic.
But what you've just looked at is this millennial generation, who have benefited from all these equal opportunities -- which may not be equal but exist everywhere -- BJK: First of all, I'm really lucky.
Partnership with Teneo, a strategic company that's amazing.
That's really the reason I'm able to do this.
I've had two times in my life where I've actually had men really behind me with power.
And that was in the old days with Philip Morris with Virginia Slims, and this is the second time in my entire life.
And then Deloitte.
The one thing I wanted was data -- facts.
So Deloitte sent out a survey, and over 4,000 people now have answered, and we're continuing in the workplace.
And what do the millennials feel?
Well, they feel a lot, but what they're so fantastic about is -- you know, our generation was like, "Oh, we're going to get representation."
So if you walk into a room, you see everybody represented.
That's not good enough anymore, which is so good!
So the millennials are fantastic; they want connection, engagement.
They just want you to tell us what you're feeling, what you're thinking, and get into the solution.
They're problem-solvers, and of course, you've got the information at your fingertips, compared to when I was growing up.
PM: What did the research show you about millennials?
Are they going to make a difference?
Are they going to create a world where there is really an inclusive work force?
BJK: Well, in 2025, 75 percent of the global workforce is going to be millennials.
I think they are going to help solve problems.
I think they have the wherewithal to do it.
I know they care a lot.
They have big ideas and they can make big things happen.
I want to stay in the now with the young people, I don't want to get behind.
(Laughter) PM: I don't think there's any chance!
But what you found out in the research about millennials is not really the experience that a lot of people have with millennials.
BJK: No, well, if we want to talk -- OK, I've been doing my little mini-survey.
I've been talking to the Boomers, who are their bosses, and I go, "What do you think about the millennials?"
And I'm pretty excited, like it's good, and they get this face -- (Laughter) "Oh, you mean the 'Me' generation?"
(Laughter) I say, "Do you really think so?
Because I do think they care about the environment and all these things."
And they go, "Oh, Billie, they cannot focus."
(Laughter) They actually have proven that the average focus for an 18-year-old is 37 seconds.
(Laughter) They can't focus.
And they don't really care.
I just heard a story the other night: a woman owns a gallery and she has these workers.
She gets a text from one of the workers, like an intern, she's just starting -- she goes, "Oh, by the way, I'm going to be late because I'm at the hairdresser's."
(Laughter) So she arrives, and this boss says, "What's going on?"
And she says, "Oh, I was late, sorry, how's it going?"
She says, "Well, guess what?
I'd like you leave, you're finished."
She goes, "OK."
(Laughter) No problem!
PM: Now Billie, that story -- I know, but that's what scares the boomers -- I'm just telling you -- so I think it's good for us to share.
(Laughter) No, it is good for us to share, because we're our authentic selves and what we're really feeling, so we've got to take it both ways, you know?
But I have great faith because -- if you've been in sports like I have -- every generation gets better.
It's a fact.
With the Women's Sports Foundation being the advocates for Title IX still, because we're trying to keep protecting the law, because it's in a tenuous position always, so we really are concerned, and we do a lot of research.
That's very important to us.
And I want to hear from people.
But we really have to protect what Title IX stands for worldwide.
And you heard President Carter talk about how Title IX is protected.
And do you know that every single lawsuit that girls, at least in sports, have gone up against -- whatever institutions -- has won?
Title IX is there to protect us.
And it is amazing.
But we still have to get the hearts and minds -- the hearts and minds to match the legislation is huge.
PM: So what gets you up every morning?
What keeps you sustaining your work, sustaining the fight for equality, extending it, always exploring new areas, trying to find new ways ... ?
BJK: Well, I always drove my parents crazy because I was always the curious one.
I'm highly motivated.
My younger brother was a Major League Baseball player.
My poor parents did not care if we were any good.
(Laughter) And we drove them crazy because we pushed, we pushed because we wanted to be the best.
And I think it's because of what I'm hearing today in TED talks.
I think to listen to these different women, to listen to different people, to listen to President Carter -- 90 years old, by the way, and he we was throwing these figures out that I would never -- I'd have to go, "Excuse me, wait a minute, I need to get a list out of these figures."
He was rattling off -- I mean, that's amazing, I'm sorry.
PM: He's an amazing man.
(Applause) BJK: And then you're going to have President Mary Robinson, who's a former president -- Thank you, Irish! 62 percent!
LGBTQ!
Yes!
(Applause) Congress is voting in June on same-sex marriage, so these are things that for some people are very hard to hear.
But always remember, every one of us is an individual, a human being with a beating heart, who cares and wants to live their authentic life.
OK?
You don't have to agree with somebody, but everyone has the opportunity.
I think we all have an obligation to continue to keep moving the needle forward, always.
And these people have been so inspiring.
Everyone matters.
And every one of you is an influencer.
You out there listening, out there in the world, plus the people here -- every single person's an influencer.
Never, ever forget that.
OK?
So don't ever give up on yourself.
PM: Billie, you have been an inspiration for us.
BJK: Thanks, Pat!
(Applause) Thanks, TED!
(Applause) Thanks a lot!
So I started working with refugees because I wanted to make a difference, and making a difference starts with telling their stories.
So when I meet refugees, I always ask them questions.
Who bombed your house?
Who killed your son?
Did the rest of your family make it out alive?
How are you coping in your life in exile?
But there's one question that always seems to me to be most revealing, and that is: What did you take?
What was that most important thing that you had to take with you when the bombs were exploding in your town, and the armed gangs were approaching your house?
A Syrian refugee boy I know told me that he didn't hesitate when his life was in imminent danger.
He took his high school diploma, and later he told me why.
He said, "I took my high school diploma because my life depended on it."
And he would risk his life to get that diploma.
On his way to school, he would dodge snipers.
His classroom sometimes shook with the sound of bombs and shelling, and his mother told me, "Every day, I would say to him every morning, 'Honey, please don't go to school.'"
And when he insisted, she said, "I would hug him as if it were for the last time."
But he said to his mother, "We're all afraid, but our determination to graduate is stronger than our fear."
But one day, the family got terrible news.
Hany's aunt, his uncle and his cousin were murdered in their homes for refusing to leave their house.
Their throats were slit.
It was time to flee.
They left that day, right away, in their car, Hany hidden in the back because they were facing checkpoints of menacing soldiers.
And they would cross the border into Lebanon, where they would find peace.
But they would begin a life of grueling hardship and monotony.
They had no choice but to build a shack on the side of a muddy field, and this is Hany's brother Ashraf, who plays outside.
And that day, they joined the biggest population of refugees in the world, in a country, Lebanon, that is tiny.
It only has four million citizens, and there are one million Syrian refugees living there.
There's not a town, a city or a village that is not host to Syrian refugees.
This is generosity and humanity that is remarkable.
Think about it this way, proportionately.
It would be as if the entire population of Germany, 80 million people, would flee to the United States in just three years.
Half of the entire population of Syria is now uprooted, most of them inside the country.
Six and a half million people have fled for their lives.
Over and well over three million people have crossed the borders and have found sanctuary in the neighboring countries, and only a small proportion, as you see, have moved on to Europe.
What I find most worrying is that half of all Syrian refugees are children.
I took this picture of this little girl.
It was just two hours after she had arrived after a long trek from Syria into Jordan.
And most troubling of all is that only 20 percent of Syrian refugee children are in school in Lebanon.
And yet, Syrian refugee children, all refugee children tell us education is the most important thing in their lives.
Why?
Because it allows them to think of their future rather than the nightmare of their past.
It allows them to think of hope rather than hatred.
I'm reminded of a recent visit I took to a Syrian refugee camp in northern Iraq, and I met this girl, and I thought, "She's beautiful," and I went up to her and asked her, "Can I take your picture?"
And she said yes, but she refused to smile.
I think she couldn't, because I think she must realize that she represents a lost generation of Syrian refugee children, a generation isolated and frustrated.
And yet, look at what they fled: utter destruction, buildings, industries, schools, roads, homes.
Hany's home was also destroyed.
This will need to be rebuilt by architects, by engineers, by electricians.
Communities will need teachers and lawyers and politicians interested in reconciliation and not revenge.
Shouldn't this be rebuilt by the people with the largest stake, the societies in exile, the refugees?
Refugees have a lot of time to prepare for their return.
You might imagine that being a refugee is just a temporary state.
Well far from it.
With wars going on and on, the average time a refugee will spend in exile is 17 years.
Hany was into his second year in limbo when I went to visit him recently, and we conducted our entire conversation in English, which he confessed to me he learned from reading all of Dan Brown's novels and from listening to American rap.
We also spent some nice moments of laughter and fun with his beloved brother Ashraf.
But I'll never forget what he told me when we ended our conversation that day.
He said to me, "If I am not a student, I am nothing."
Hany is one of 50 million people uprooted in this world today.
Never since World War II have so many people been forcibly displaced.
So while we're making sweeping progress in human health, in technology, in education and design, we are doing dangerously little to help the victims and we are doing far too little to stop and prevent the wars that are driving them from their homes.
And there are more and more victims.
Every day, on average, by the end of this day, 32,000 people will be forcibly displaced from their homes — 32,000 people.
They flee across borders like this one.
We captured this on the Syrian border to Jordan, and this is a typical day.
Or they flee on unseaworthy and overcrowded boats, risking their lives in this case just to reach safety in Europe.
This Syrian young man survived one of these boats that capsized — most of the people drowned — and he told us, "Syrians are just looking for a quiet place where nobody hurts you, where nobody humiliates you, and where nobody kills you."
Well, I think that should be the minimum.
How about a place of healing, of learning, and even opportunity?
Americans and Europeans have the impression that proportionally huge numbers of refugees are coming to their country, but the reality is that 86 percent, the vast majority of refugees, are living in the developing world, in countries struggling with their own insecurity, with their own issues of helping their own populations and poverty.
So wealthy countries in the world should recognize the humanity and the generosity of the countries that are hosting so many refugees.
And all countries should make sure that no one fleeing war and persecution arrives at a closed border.
(Applause) Thank you.
But there is something more that we can do than just simply helping refugees survive.
We can help them thrive.
We should think of refugee camps and communities as more than just temporary population centers where people languish waiting for the war to end.
Rather, as centers of excellence, where refugees can triumph over their trauma and train for the day that they can go home as agents of positive change and social transformation.
It makes so much sense, but I'm reminded of the terrible war in Somalia that has been raging on for 22 years.
And imagine living in this camp.
I visited this camp.
It's in Djibouti, neighboring Somalia, and it was so remote that we had to take a helicopter to fly there.
It was dusty and it was terribly hot.
And we went to visit a school and started talking to the children, and then I saw this girl across the room who looked to me to be the same age as my own daughter, and I went up and talked to her.
And I asked her the questions that grown-ups ask kids, like, "What is your favorite subject?"
and, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
And this is when her face turned blank, and she said to me, "I have no future.
My schooling days are over."
And I thought, there must be some misunderstanding, so I turned to my colleague and she confirmed to me there is no funding for secondary education in this camp.
And how I wished at that moment that I could say to her, "We will build you a school."
And I also thought, what a waste.
She should be and she is the future of Somalia.
A boy named Jacob Atem had a different chance, but not before he experienced terribly tragedy.
He watched — this is in Sudan — as his village — he was only seven years old — burned to the ground, and he learned that his mother and his father and his entire family were killed that day.
Only his cousin survived, and the two of them walked for seven months — this is boys like him — chased and pursued by wild animals and armed gangs, and they finally made it to refugee camps where they found safety, and he would spend the next seven years in Kenya in a refugee camp.
But his life changed when he got the chance to be resettled to the United States, and he found love in a foster family and he was able to go to school, and he wanted me to share with you this proud moment when he graduated from university.
(Applause) I spoke to him on Skype the other day, and he was in his new university in Florida pursuing his Ph.D. in public health, and he proudly told me how he was able to raise enough funds from the American public to establish a health clinic back in his village back home.
So I want to take you back to Hany.
When I told him I was going to have the chance to speak to you here on the TED stage, he allowed me to read you a poem that he sent in an email to me.
He wrote: "I miss myself, my friends, times of reading novels or writing poems, birds and tea in the morning.
My room, my books, myself, and everything that was making me smile.
Oh, oh, I had so many dreams that were about to be realized."
So here is my point: Not investing in refugees is a huge missed opportunity.
Leave them abandoned, and they risk exploitation and abuse, and leave them unskilled and uneducated, and delay by years the return to peace and prosperity in their countries.
I believe how we treat the uprooted will shape the future of our world.
The victims of war can hold the keys to lasting peace, and it's the refugees who can stop the cycle of violence.
Hany is at a tipping point.
We would love to help him go to university and to become an engineer, but our funds are prioritized for the basics in life: tents and blankets and mattresses and kitchen sets, food rations and a bit of medicine.
University is a luxury.
But leave him to languish in this muddy field, and he will become a member of a lost generation.
Hany's story is a tragedy, but it doesn't have to end that way.
Thank you.
(Applause)