In Brazil, #GirlsDecide their future
“I saw how wonderful it would be if the barriers to accessing education were removed, how good it would be if there were no obstacles like the university entrance exam and if schools offered assistance as a policy,” shares Maria Eduarda Moreira. (Photo courtesy of Karina Gomes)
18-year-old Maria Eduarda reflects on writing the #GirlsDecide Manifesto, demanding quality, equal education for all. To her, education is fundamental to their identities, activism, and liberation.
When I was a kid, I liked to draw and discover things. I liked to read and write. My parents used to take me with them to their work when there was no one else to take care of me. I was born in Osasco, a city in the metropolitan area of São Paulo, where I spent most of my childhood. My mother had to commute on two buses and a train and it took her two long hours to get to work. She worked as a maid in an apartment complex in Alphaville, a wealthy region of São Paulo.
It all looked so weird to me since it had no resemblance to my reality. I always felt as if I were in a dream. I could see in her eyes how tired she felt after cleaning such a huge house and even more tired after coming back home. My father’s work was located even further away in a shopping mall in the city center of São Paulo. I used to see so many people different from me, different from my colour — mostly white, high-income people. My father worked as a security guard doing 12-hour shifts.
My whole life I saw my parents work but they were never able to provide our family with the same basic needs, such as private health insurance, since the public health system in Brazil is low quality. Over the years we just survived. I remember that both of them always praised and valued my studies because it would be the light in our family's future — with studies, I would be able to find a suitable job to provide for my family. But my mother did not live to see it or follow my journey. She passed away at age 40 due to cancer. But my goals have not changed — I wanted to make my parents proud then and I still do. They dreamed of a successful future in which I would be able to be independent and have my needs fulfilled.
“I could feel the power of representing the reality of so many students emerging out of the pandemic. I felt like I had a voice for something that needed to be heard by people who could make a change.”
When I started high school at age 15, Brazil was facing funding cuts in education that made it difficult for public school students to access knowledge and contributed to persisting inequalities. All this uncertainty made me anxious and insecure. I wondered if I would be capable of completing my studies. Also in my first year of high school, I experienced the Covid-19 pandemic. Under Brazil’s former President Jair Bolsonaro’s administration, the public education system was completely neglected and this affected all of us in the public school system.
Many did not have internet and cell phone access to follow online classes and many developed mental health issues, including myself. People were forced to work during the crisis and students starved without access to daily meals offered by public schools. The school dropout rate reached unprecedented numbers with over 5 million out-of-school students in Brazil in 2021, according to UNICEF. On top of that, the ghost of duty, of having to succeed, still haunted me. Amid doubts and fears, I was studying to prepare for the university entrance exam.
My last year of school was my first year of full-time studies — and also the year I started working. I needed to be independent. Classes finished at 5 pm and I had to go to work at 6 pm. Often I worked 12 hours a day and this compromised my performance, focus, mental health and my chances of entering a university. But I had no other means. I remained in this routine until the second semester. It was very tiring and burdensome. What kept me going was my activism for gender and racial equity.
In June 2022, I was invited by Malala Fund’s Education Champion Network (ECN) in Brazil, to be one of the authors of the #GirlsDecide Manifesto for the Right to Education, a document featuring the demands of girls from all over Brazil for a quality education.
On Saturdays, when I had some free time, I actively participated in social movements and feminist projects, including Mandacaru Malala, implemented by Benilda Brito. I am also the president of the youth collective of As Karolinas, an organisation working with disadvantaged communities.
That opportunity was crucial for me because I felt embraced and could express my demands for education. As a Black woman and student who lives on the outskirts of the city and who, at the age of 16, already had a job, I could feel the power of representing the reality of so many students emerging out of the pandemic. I felt like I had a voice for something that needed to be heard by people who could make a change.
“I would like the government to be more responsible when it comes to education. It was in the midst of seeing so many people give up, that I got a taste of how difficult it is to excel when structural inequalities play against you, against your education, and against [you] achieving your dreams.”
In the same month the #GirlsDecide Manifesto was launched, I took my first entry examination to study history at university. In November, after a difficult year, I enrolled in the course of my dreams. I was happy but I was also worried: the university was in another state region, 60 km away from where I currently live (in Exu city, state of Pernambuco). I could not see a way out, because the monthly cost of transportation was very expensive, and moving there would risk my job among other issues. That was the moment when I missed my mother's advice the most. I decided to move and start over. The worst thing about acting on your own is that the consequences are all yours.
The municipality did not pay the transport costs but my only option was to go. I felt anxious and scared that I would not make it — I still do sometimes.
I have met several people who had to give up their education due to low income, lack of assistance from the municipality, not having family support, or having to provide for themselves. I decided to pursue my dreams for those who believed in me.
I saw how wonderful it would be if the barriers to accessing education were removed, how good it would be if there were no obstacles like the university entrance exam and if schools offered assistance as a policy.
Many students do not know that they have the right to this. I would like the government to be more present and responsible when it comes to education. It was in the midst of seeing so many people give up, that I got a taste of how difficult it is to excel when structural inequalities play against you, against your education, and against achieving your dreams.
“Education liberates, but without access, it is nothing but an obstacle, that disadvantaged people, no matter how hard they struggle, are excluded from,“ says 18-year-old advocate Maria Eduarda Moreira. (Photo courtesy of Karina Gomes)
Education liberates, but without access, it is nothing but an obstacle, that disadvantaged people, no matter how hard they struggle, are excluded from. I hope that cases like mine — and there are thousands out there — get assistance.
I hope that we can complete our education, that there are no drop-outs, and that learning becomes a true right for all, making Article 205 of the Constitution worthwhile: "Education, which is a right of all and duty of the State and of the family, will be promoted and encouraged with the collaboration of society, aiming at the full development of the person, his preparation for the exercise of citizenship and his qualification for work."
My goal now is to work as an educator in disadvantaged communities, promoting culture, sports and political discussions. May we become better citizens through the liberation of our minds, and may we preserve the quality of education and guarantee everyone access to it. There is still a lot to fight for in future generations. May we never lose the instinct to defend what is ours.
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