I belong here!

    The school got over and all of us started back to our respective destinations. I couldn’t have been happier to leave the place as fast as possible. I had felt everybody’s questioning glance on me the entire day and I had no answers for them. Even my best friend, Beth, avoided talking to me now. I couldn’t entirely blame her as she’d just lost her older brother who’d been working in one of the offices in the World trade centre. My name is Farah and I’m an Arab-American!

    I slowly started walking towards the bus-stop. I dreaded traveling in the bus, as I couldn’t possibly avoid the stares and whispers of other kids, while I was cooped up with them. But, I don’t really want to bother my parents with my problems, especially not after all the troubles that they are already dealing with at their work-place. My mother wears burkha and that has caused her so many problems outside the house. I’m just glad that they never forced me to wear anything. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to deal with the kind of attention that it provokes!

    My mother never talked about her life in Kabul, where she and my dad were born. I know that they had a good life and then the nightmares began. My mom was pregnant with me and she was working as a teacher. Then the Taliban moved in Kabul and literally made lives miserable for everybody, especially women. My mom had to stop working and stay at home, and things got really tight for them. They couldn’t listen to music, or watch anything on television, have fun or even breathe in freedom. When they couldn’t take the torture anymore, they decided to elope and take refuge in America. After taking great amount of risks, spending a great deal of money, and with the help of some very brave souls, they managed to arrive safely to America.

    Then, I was born. My mom said that she named me Farah, which means ‘Joy’. She said that I was their inspiration to survive. If I hadn’t already existed, they would probably have given up the fight a long time ago. Life in America had not been easy for my parents. After a great deal of struggle, they finally managed to establish themselves as legal citizens of America. They worked hard, saved money, educated me and provided me with all kinds of comforts. Life had been running smooth for us. We’d made lots of friends in our neighborhood and I was doing pretty well in school.

    Then, out of nowhere, just like a bolt of lightning, disaster struck us again! September 11, was the darkest day of our lives. So many Americans lost their lives, including my best friend Beth’s older brother. The entire day we saw planes crashing into the world trade centre on television. When we came to know about Beth’s family, we even tried to offer condolences. But all the doors in the entire neighborhood were rudely shut on us. I wanted to scream, “We didn’t do it! We are your friends. We would never dream of hurting you.” But, I knew deep inside that it was no use screaming at deaf people. We were back in a nightmare that we couldn’t come out of. When we were threatened in our own country, we fled to America. Now, we feel threatened here. Where could we possibly run?

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    The school bus arrived right on time. Just like any other day, I had to struggle to get inside. I was rudely pushed by every little and big kid and I just quietly tried to climb up again. It had sort of become a routine and I was beginning to get good at it.

    I saw a corner empty seat and started moving towards it. I could see Beth sitting in the bus, but she didn’t even bother looking in my direction. Just when I was about to take the empty seat, one of the school bullies pushed me aside, “Hey, you’re not welcome here. Why don’t you go back to your country?”

    I just ignored him. Then he shoved me again, “Are you deaf? Didn’t you hear what I said?”

    I was beginning to get tired and angry, “I’m in my country. I was born in America! Where else can I go?”

    He laughed, “Yeah right! You don’t belong here and you’ll never belong here. Go back where you came from.”

    Now, I was beginning to get a little scared as three other kids had joined him and were pushing me from all directions. I was about to turn and move to the front, when I heard a voice, “Leave her alone! She didn’t do anything to any of you.”

    I didn’t have to look to know that it was Beth. They turned towards her and sneered, “So what? Are you friends with this Arab girl now?”

    She stood up, as tall as they were, “That’s none of your business. If you don’t leave her alone, I’ll have to complain to the school authorities that you’re bullying a kid. Are you sure your record can take another black mark?”

    That seemed to calm them down. Beth went back to her seat and they left me in peace. She did not come to me; neither did she talk with me. Our stop arrived and we both got down and went in opposite directions. But, somehow I knew that our friendship had survived. That would do for now! As for the rest of the world, they will understand too … eventually!!!!