3 Class Presentation

Sarimah and Izzy stood up from their desks together. They walked to the front of the Grade 7 social studies class at Thornton Park School.

As she walked up the aisle, Sarimah glanced out the window. She noticed that grey clouds had blanketed the city since the morning. The snow can’t be far off, she thought.

Arriving at the front of the class, she was proud she could read the words on the whiteboard: “Saskatoon and Syrian refugees group presentations.”

Sarimah glanced down at the notes and newspaper clippings in her hands. One was from the day she had arrived in Saskatoon: Friday, October 1. Exactly one month had passed.

“When I met Sarimah at the airport, she was very shy and didn’t say much,” Izzy started. “Since then, we have become neighbours, classmates and friends. Her English is so good. She has worked very hard.”

Sarimah lifted a piece of paper and began reading her part. “I arrived from a refugee camp in Turkey with help from sponsors like Izzy and her family.” She concentrated on every word. “I was scared at first. Everything was different here. But Izzy helped me.”

They continued to take turns for about five minutes. Sarimah told the class that she had learned Izzy was born in Ottawa, but moved to Saskatoon when she was three years old. Izzy told the class Sarimah was born in Aleppo, a city of two million people, before the war.

“Aleppo is one of the oldest cities in the world,” Izzy said. “It is now almost all ruined because of the war. Sarimah and her family may never get to see their home again. They told refugee camp workers they would like to live somewhere peaceful. The workers suggested Canada.”

Sarimah paused as a lump in her throat started to burn. “Syrian people are peaceful,” she said, her eyes starting to fill with tears. She blinked and they ran down her cheeks. The teacher walked over to Sarimah with a box of tissues. Sarimah took one and dried her eyes. She cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry. We saw some awful things as we escaped,” she said. “But I hope you get to see my beautiful city one day. I hope the fighting stops and you can see that Syria is more than just war.”

Sarimah looked at Izzy, whose chin was shaking. Even their teacher was holding a tissue close. A little embarrassed by her tears, Sarimah raised her eyes to see her classmates. Most of them were leaning forward, listening closely as Sarimah talked about how the Syrian war had created the most refugees since World War II.

Then someone laughed. It was a quiet giggle and whoever did it tried to make it stop.

Sarimah spotted her classmates, Tamsen and Kaelynn, in the back row. They were leaning across the aisle and whispering to each other. The teacher noticed them, too.

“Tammy and Kaelynn, I really hope you’re not talking about your soccer team,” the teacher said. “You can talk all you want during lunch-hour detention.”

The whole class turned to look at the two girls. Sarimah was a little hurt. Their laughter had made her sadness seem silly. But if they were talking about soccer, she wanted to know more. She also wanted a blue-and-orange jacket like the one they both wore every day. It had a ‘Blizzard’ logo on the front. Sarimah knew Izzy had one, also, but didn’t wear it as much as Tamsen.

Tamsen groaned and Kaelynn huffed. Sarimah could sense tension as everyone waited for their talk to continue. Finally, Izzy said they were finished. Sarimah was grateful to hear the school bell ring for recess.

Sarimah and Izzy waited for everyone to leave before they returned to their desks to collect their books.

“You are doing so well,” Sarimah’s teacher said as they left. “Your English is improving all the time. Just keep practising.”

Sarimah and Izzy headed into the hallway to their shared locker. They were still wiping tears from their eyes as they arrived. But Sarimah was happy to have their talk finished. She put on her jacket.

“Hey, neighbour,” Izzy said. “It’s pretty chilly outside. Hope you brought your hat and mitts. You ready for the snow?”

Sarimah reached down and put her hand into the pocket of her winter coat. She pulled out a white toque with a green husky dog on it. From the left pocket, she produced her gloves and slipped them onto her hands. They headed for the double doors at the back of the school.

“Yes, I can’t wait,” Sarimah said. “But what do you mean, ‘pretty chilly’?”

Izzy pushed open the doors and a blast of icy wind hit them.

“That’s ‘pretty chilly’.”

“I see. I would say it is cold. Let’s run,” Sarimah said. “I might freeze like an ice-man.”

Izzy started to laugh. “Snowman! Ah, never mind. I know what you mean.”

“I have one thing to ask you, Izzy,” said Sarimah. “Why did those girls laugh? Were they really whispering about soccer?”

Izzy rolled her eyes. “Oh, probably,” she said. “That’s all Tammy can think about. She’s already talking about what college she’s going to pick. She says she wants to make the Olympic team before she’s twenty.”

Sarimah had never met anyone who hoped to play soccer at that level. She didn’t know someone so good went to Thornton. She felt proud of being Tamsen’s classmate. “Wow! That is amazing.”

“Just don’t believe it. Tammy is good, but she’s not that good. At least, she isn’t yet. Maybe she’ll make Team Canada, but right now I’m not even sure she’s the best on our team.”

Sarimah was confused now. She couldn’t understand why anyone would make up stories about playing in the Olympics.

“I would like to see her play.”

“Well, you can. She’s right there. C’mon, let’s go see for ourselves.”

Izzy pointed over Sarimah’s shoulder to the soccer fields. “Let’s play?”

There was a group of eight kids chasing a ball.

“Yes, I guess so,” Sarimah said.

She wasn’t sure about playing with others after what had happened in class. But she really wanted to play. Sarimah and Izzy jogged over to the soccer field.

“Hey, listen up,” Izzy said. “Sarimah is finished with her English classes at recess. She’s free from the teachers!”

“Just don’t put her on my team,” said one voice.

Sarimah’s heart sank. She wanted to run back into the school. She recognized the voice as Tamsen’s. And she could tell that Tamsen was angry.