V
I pulled a disappearing act. I fielded calls and avoided my friends. In the first week, all of those irritations I suffered in silence as a child hit me in waves. I was drowning in a sea of ignorance, self-delusion, and shame. Scenes of my life played back like a story, and I’d shudder in disgust at myself for quieting my thoughts and allowing the racism to persist unchecked.
I was walking through north quad with my backpack hitched over my shoulders when I heard a voice call my name. I thought it would be Kelsey or Brittany, so I ducked my head. My feet touched the library steps when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
I took my earbuds off and turned around. “Mrs. Abboud..I’m sorry for running off like that. I didn’t know it was you.”
“I don’t get to see you anymore now that you’re not in my class,” she said. “I just wanted to say hello.”
“I loved Arabic, but I decided to take my film classes this semester.”
“No matter,” she said. “How are you, Rose.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, how are you—in light of the current climate?”
“Shocked.” It was her silence that drew me to speak. She let me figure out what I wanted to say with no judgments or recriminations. “My mind is still stuck on Trayvon. That boy was seventeen, and now he’s gone because of one man’s irrational fear. I’m shocked about what happened, but even more so about people’s reactions. There are debates going on in this campus whether or not he deserved to live. A black boy wears a hoodie out at night and his punishment is death? I don’t understand it.”
“That’s the first thing you need to do—understand this. When I moved here from Lebanon with my husband during the civil war...I was so many things. Angry. Hurt. Tired. I came from a country with conflict to America, where there is still conflict. After 9/11, I faced discrimination and hate calls. Students began to drop my classes. And those feelings hit me again. I was so bitter.”
“I was in the right, but what did that anger give me—other than premature wrinkles?” She laughed. “I spent all day arguing with my friends and my husband, showing them what these ignorant people were saying about people like us and reiterating why they were wrong. I wanted to know why they couldn’t see the humanity in us? I was full of fire and ready responses, ready to match any slight that came my way.“
“It was so exhausting to always be on the defense. I looked at my son and asked myself if I wanted him to be like me, always fighting and stressing? It is one thing to be socially aware, but it’s another to allow yourself to be consumed with all that negativity. I didn’t want that for him, and I didn’t want that for myself anymore, either...”
“What did you do?”
“I took a step back. I needed to reevaluate my life, cut out the people who made me feel bad or wrong. I needed some time for self-healing. At the base of it, I needed to understand myself and who I was.”
“Life is so chaotic and changing. In order to save ourselves, we need to stay grounded in who we are and the things we value. I had to define what being an Arab woman in America meant. From what you told me before, you have not had the time or opportunity to do that for yourself. I think it will help. You don’t have to forgive anyone...just make peace with yourself. You mentioned liking film, yes?”
“Yeah.”
“Use that to document your feelings. Maybe you can track Zimmerman’s trial. Unfortunately, I have to run to a meeting, but I want you to come talk to me. I don’t want this to be something we talked about once but never executed. I’m free tomorrow at four. Will you be available?”
I nodded.
“I’ll invite some other students I think you should know. We’ll have snacks and drinks.” She waved goodbye.