Other kids call her "Monster".

She spends recesses alone. Or with the two other children who'll play with her at a school of 1,400.

That changes this week. Forever.

Her cleft palate surgery should have been done at 6 months old, rather than age 14.

After 13 years of marriage, her father abandoned the family the day he saw his firstborn's face, taking his income - her best hope of surgery - with him.

Her speech is abridged, seemingly more so from psychological shame than her mouth's physical configuration.

She underwent surgery Thursday.

That's because of a volunteer group we started in 2011 to improve education and life quality in nomadic Tibetan communities in Qinghai's Yushu prefecture's hinterlands.

This isn't charity. It's solidarity. That distinction is important.

It's the difference between civil society and civil society 2.0.

Understanding of this discrepancy - budding yet not in full bloom in Western civics - hasn't taken root in China, where the mere mainstreaming of charity started sprouting from the 2008 Wenchuan quake.

It's a question of vertical-versus-horizontal model. There's no hierarchy.

It means treating "recipients" as partners. They're not just beneficiaries, but also full-fledged members. They propel the community-driven decision-making process.

Decisions are made by consensus. Leadership is de facto, not by title.

Nothing is given to anyone. Instead, investments are made in people.

We're investing in this girl. We're partnering with her, rather than "helping" her. We hope once she feels confident to face the world and improves her speaking abilities, we believe, she'll say something worth listening to.

We've invested in solar panels for schools without electricity, medicine, computers, 3G Wi-Fi stations, clothes and food for the kids. We "gave" nothing.

The dividends?

A fairer world. A more just world. For all of us.

Step Up! started when I agreed to install two solar panels in a nomadic school. I later realized needs extended beyond these solar panels and that: "Sometimes, the light at the end of the dark tunnel of poverty is the one children can read by at night."

I never imagined years later, I'd be in a pitch-black hotel room without electricity after having a knife pulled on me after finishing field projects.

There's almost nothing like being trapped in what's essentially a sensory-depravation chamber after such an experience to make you reconsider everything.

I wanted to give up. But it was in that darkness that any light had to come from within. It came from the kids.

Years later, still at it, I'm waiting to hear what this girl has to say. She has ideas to share with us all.

Her words may change the ways we look at the world - and one another.

She'll be able to speak for civil society 2.0.

Contact the writer at erik_nilsson@chinadaily.com.cn