On a Thursday in late spring, the Zoom grid flickered and a quiet square brightened. A girl unmuted, took the kind of steadying breath they’d practiced in music-therapy, and answered a question in English – halting, then sure. When she finished, the chat filled with clapping hands and hearts. It was a small thing, easy to miss if you weren’t looking. Inside BVG, this is what transformation sounds like.
Across notebooks, surveys, and end-of-year reflections, the same arc appears. The girls arrived cautious with their voices and left using them—interviewing a guest, arguing a point in debate, reading a paragraph they had revised until it felt like theirs, explaining a design sketch to the room, singing a hard line until it softened. “I learned that I have a voice… and I want to use it,” one wrote. Another put it more simply after a session ended: “I wasn’t brave before. Now I speak.”
This installment turns the light toward those voices – their fears and firsts, the moments they surprised themselves, and what the program looks like from the inside out when you are fifteen and practicing courage in two languages.
“At First, I Was Shy… Now I Can Speak Up”
A common thread among participants’ stories is the journey from hesitation to confidence. Most BVG girls start the program with only basic English skills and a healthy dose of nerves about using them. Speaking up in a new language, in front of strangers, can be terrifying. But by the end, these same girls often astonish themselves with how far they’ve come. In confidential end-of-program surveys, when asked to rate their confidence in speaking English “before vs. after,” the shift was dramatic. Only one girl out of the cohort of 18 described herself as “very confident” in English at the start; by the end, two-thirds of the respondents boldly checked “very confident”. The rest all rated themselves at least “somewhat confident.” None selected the low end of the scale anymore. This quantitative result is backed by countless anecdotes. “In the beginning, I couldn’t even introduce myself in English without feeling nervous,” one 15-year-old recalled. “Now I give presentations and I’m not afraid. I even enjoy it.”
What enabled such growth? The girls consistently credit the program’s supportive environment. “I realized no one would laugh if I made a mistake. That gave me courage,” said one. In group reflections, they often mention the moment they first dared to speak and found encouragement instead of correction. BVG’s coordinator Mirey Baz intentionally cultivates this atmosphere. She reminds the girls that communication is the goal – the grammar will follow. In fact, by practicing with volunteer native speakers and each other in low-pressure settings, the girls reported that their fear of embarrassment faded over time. One participant wrote, “The most commonly reported challenge [for us] was speaking confidently in front of others. [But] this fear diminished over time as we practiced English in supportive environments.” It’s worth noting that these girls were practicing not just with teachers, but with friends; in BVG they formed a tight-knit cohort where they cheered on each other’s progress. When one girl delivered a successful short speech, the others would burst into applause (virtually, this meant a cascade of clapping emojis). Confidence, it turns out, can be contagious.
The program also gave the girls multiple platforms to use their voices – from debates to interviews to performances – each platform providing a little push and a proof point that “yes, I can do this.” One striking example was a storytelling event mid-way through the year. The task was for each girl to share a personal story in English for 2-3 minutes. For many, it was the first time speaking unscripted English at length. “I was shaking,” admitted a 14-year-old, “but when I finished, everyone clapped and I felt like I conquered a giant.” After that day, she said, speaking in class (even at her regular school) seemed easy. Another girl described the pride of completing her first full essay in English: “Our first essay. I felt grown up when I finished writing my first ever essay.” It was only a one-page piece about her role model, but to her it symbolized a leap in capability. These moments accumulate, turning trepidation into self-assurance.
Perhaps the ultimate test of their confidence came during the final showcase when the girls answered impromptu questions from viewers around the world. One could imagine how intimidating it might be for a teenager who, just months prior, was “not confident at all” in English, to suddenly field a question from an American Rotary member or a British teacher on Zoom. But they did it – and they did it well. They had been subtly trained for this: every time they raised a hand in a Zoom session to share an idea, every time they introduced an art project to the class, they were practicing thinking on their feet in English. By June, one participant observed, “we realized that our English improved a lot… We expressed what we wanted very well, with a little bit of passion.” That little bit of passion was the secret ingredient – they cared about what they were saying, so the words came easier.
What do the girls themselves advise for newcomers? Their messages to future BVG girls reveal just how far their mindset has shifted. “Don’t be shy, speak your mind,” one wrote. “Trust me, nobody cares if you make one or two mistakes. That’s how you learn after all.” This from the same girl who once hardly spoke above a whisper in English. Another offered: “Just be yourself and never be shy. The sooner you get used to it and make an effort, the more you will progress.” In a lovely turn of phrase, one graduate encouraged those to come to “enjoy the moment and lessons… There are lots of good things at the end.” Collectively, their advice is a powerful testament to their growth: they urge others to embrace exactly what they once feared. They have become ambassadors of confidence.
Discovering New Selves Through the Arts
Confidence wasn’t the only transformation. Many girls discovered talents and passions they never knew they had. BVG’s multi-faceted approach means a girl might join thinking, “I’m here to improve my English,” but end up saying, “I discovered I love painting” or “Now I think I might be a journalist.” By engaging in art, music, and creative projects, the girls got to explore different facets of themselves – often with surprising results.
Newfound aspirations are another common outcome. Exposed to role models and new activities, the girls begin dreaming bigger. After Eriech Tapia’s journalism sessions and the exhilarating experience of conducting interviews, a couple of participants expressed interest in media careers. “I want to be a journalist now,” one girl said half-jokingly during a feedback circle, then realized as she said it that maybe she wasn’t joking at all. Learning how to ask good questions and listen actively showed her a skill she might want to pursue. Another student, deeply moved by the music therapy module, asked Sydney Zupnick how one becomes a music therapist – a profession she never knew existed. She later told Mirey she might study psychology or music in college, so she can do for others what Sydney did for them. These are the kinds of sparks BVG aims to ignite: not necessarily to turn every girl into an artist or musician, but to expand their sense of what is possible. By sampling various disciplines and interacting with passionate professionals, the girls start to envision paths they hadn’t considered. As one reflection in the evaluation summary noted, many participants mentioned they “discovered new talents (from painting to public speaking) through BVG.” That discovery is powerful. It can alter the trajectory of a young person’s life.
Moreover, the girls developed soft skills and emotional growth that are harder to quantify but evident in their reflections. They frequently mention increased confidence (of course), but also things like patience, empathy, and teamwork. Another emotional leap was in friendship and trust. Many BVG participants enter the program not knowing each other. Some are from different schools or towns. Early on, a few noted, it was a challenge to open up or work in groups. “Being in a group… since I was 8 I am not successful in groups. I can’t share my ideas,” one 15-year-old admitted in the initial weeks. This is not uncommon – adolescence can be fraught with social anxieties, and add to that a mix of different social backgrounds and a foreign language, and you have a recipe for reticence. But by the end, social connection turned from challenge to triumph. The girls often cited the bonds they formed as one of the best parts of BVG. They loved the “caring approach of the instructors” but also the camaraderie with peers. “All those memories with my new friends… I’m so grateful,” wrote one girl in a parting message. Another chimed in, “BVG girls are great, I have never seen more centered, intelligent, talented girls in my life.” That sense of mutual respect and admiration is precious. The group went from strangers to a tight sisterhood. On the last day, they took a group photo – some girls holding up three fingers (for “third cohort”), some wearing custom t-shirts they designed – and you can see the mix of joy and tears in their eyes. They knew they’d miss seeing each other every week. But they also knew this wasn’t really goodbye; they had already made plans in the group chat for weekend meetups and promised to help Mirey with the next cohort’s workshops. “We became like real sisters,” one participant told her facilitator. “I have friends now from different schools. We even talk in English sometimes just for fun.” For girls living in a region recovering from disaster, these friendships provided an essential support network. In interviews, a few mentioned that BVG helped them cope with lingering trauma from the earthquake – by giving them positive focus and new friends who understood what they’d been through. In that sense, the rising voices were also healing voices for each other.
The Pride of Being a “BVG Girl”
One phrase that comes up repeatedly in conversations and writings is “BVG girl.” It has become an identity badge that the participants wear proudly. “It’s great to be a BVG girl!” one student exclaimed in the survey. The program’s alumni refer to themselves collectively as “BVG girls” as well, a term that implies not just completion of the program but membership in a continuing community. What does it mean to them? The answers vary a bit: it means being open-minded, being supportive, being creative, being brave, being heard. It means you’ve challenged yourself and grown. It means you stand for something – empowerment, education, cross-cultural friendship. In a world where teenage girls often face stereotypes or silencing, owning that identity is empowering in itself.
The girls’ reflections often circle back to gratitude and a sense of being part of something bigger. They express deep appreciation for their teachers and the volunteers: “I am so grateful for my teachers’ work on me. I had an amazing experience, and would love to experience it again,” wrote one in her evaluation. Another thanked the team for “never giving up on us and this project,” acknowledging that there were difficult moments (scheduling headaches, technical glitches, even a short pause due to funding issues) but the adults persisted and so did they. Importantly, many girls voiced a desire to pay it forward. When asked if they’d like to stay involved as BVG graduates, the majority said yes – eager to help new girls or join future events. They’ve seen the difference it made for them and want to be the big sisters for others. This kind of peer mentorship is exactly what Fatma Dodurka had envisioned when she started BVG. She used to say she hoped the voices of girls would “resonate and multiply” – and indeed that is happening, as each cohort inspires the next.
One cannot talk about the voices of these girls without mentioning the emotional maturity and resilience many have developed. Life in Hatay post-earthquake has not been easy. Some participants were living in temporary housing; some had family members injured or large disruptions in their schooling. And of course, they all carried the grief of losing community members (even if they didn’t know Fatma or the others personally, they felt the weight of that story). Instead of breaking them, these challenges seemed to forge a stronger resolve. BVG provided a constructive outlet for their feelings. By learning how to articulate their feelings and experiences, the girls not only practiced advanced English vocabulary (try explaining “resilience” or “solidarity” as a 15-year-old in a foreign language), they also processed their trauma in a healing way. One participant reflected that BVG taught her “feeling more confident” not just in language but in herself, rating that aspect “A great deal” of growth. It’s a subtle point: confidence here meant not only public speaking bravado but inner strength.
The transformation in these young women hasn’t gone unnoticed by those around them. Parents have reported remarkable changes. One mother shared that her daughter, once anxious and self-doubting, blossomed into a “sunflower who always turns toward the light” after BVG. Teachers at their regular schools observed that BVG participants became more active in English classes and often introduced creative ideas drawn from the program’s activities.
Finally, the girls’ reflections often touch on the impact the program had on their future outlook. Many now see wider horizons for themselves. BVG introduced them to possibilities like studying abroad or applying for international youth programs. In fact, with their improved English levels (the evaluation noted that their post-test scores would make them “eligible to apply for U.S. high school exchange programs”), some are already dreaming of travels and scholarships. But even those who will stay in their hometown feel changed – they talk about how they want to start local projects, volunteer, or simply continue practicing English and art. “This program is your chance, you are very special, realize this,” one girl wrote as a message to future participants. It sounds like something a mentor or teacher might say, but it came from a 15-year-old who herself had only recently realized her own potential. It encapsulates how these girls now see themselves and each other: as special, as capable, and as voices that matter.
Bringing this full circle, recall the quiet square that brightened at the start – the breath, the pause, the answer that arrived like a small light. That moment didn’t end with a single sentence; it kept traveling. It showed up in interviews with guests, in debates where a hand stayed raised, in a song a voice once hid from. By year’s end, the room held more of those small lights, bright enough to see one another by. The truth is simpler than any metric: the girls are carrying it now. They learned how to use their voices, and that sound has a way of finding doors and opening them.
Next, we’ll step outward to the network that helped those lights spread – mentors who lent patience and craft, partners who opened windows between cities, and supporters who believed a chorus could be built one voice at a time. But the last note here belongs to the girls; what began as a single square brightening has become a roomful of steady beams, moving into families, schools, and whatever comes next.
