Mafi Peace & Quiet...

On a typical morning I would get to work at about 6:50.  I’d sign in and head to our English Department office.  I would then check the local news back in Houston, catch up on Facebook and occasionally get a few things copied for class that day. 

 

That routine started to change about 7 weeks ago when our school changed our system of classrooms.  We, the teachers, now have our own classrooms.  The students are no longer stuck in one room all day long.  Now when I get in to work and sign in, I walk to my classroom.  As I walk to my classroom, I hope and pray I don’t have to deal with any students.  I just want to get in my classroom and get things ready in peace and quiet.  Maybe that’s because I know once first period starts, there’s very rarely any peace and quiet.

 

Of course most days – this never happens.  The buses always drop kids off early and so there are almost ALWAYS a few students waiting at the door for me.  They want to put their stuff at their desk.  Sometimes they leave at that point and sometimes they hang around and chat with friends or just watch me. 

 

Today a student from another class comes in and begins chatting with me. Just a few random things here and there as I go about my routine of checking the reports of the severe weather back in Houston.  And my quick scan over the Huffington Post.  And then I realize I’m being rude so I stop reading and engage in a real conversation with Mohammed. 

 

Mohammed is from Syria.  He has lived here since he was three years old.  He has an older brother who is studying in Germany to be a doctor. He has an older sister who is married and lives in Dubai.  He’s an uncle too.  He also has 2 younger sisters.  His family has a farm and a nice large house in Syria.

 

Mohammed’s father moved here to work for this Emirati making the black cords the locals wear on their heads.  His father made this in Syria in addition to working on the farm.  So he moved here to make more money and was given the promises of a vehicle, a nice salary, and a villa for his family.  Two of the three happened.  The villa never happened. Mohammed doesn’t know why and he never speculated about the reasons, even though I already made an assumption in my mind. 

 

 

Mohammed’s father now runs his own shop making the black cord things. 

 

I was asking more about Mohammed’s brother in Germany.  Mohammed told me his brother was studying in Syria to become a doctor.  It is a 5 year program (not sure if that’s the entire program or just the university part minus the residency).  Mohammed’s bother had to leave after the 4^th year because of the unrest in the country.  Mohammed says to me, “Mr. Shawn, can you imagine studying for four years and you almost finish and then you have to leave because of craziness?”  I can’t.  He said his brother then went to Germany where he had to take a year (or maybe two?) to get caught up to the German standards and learn the language and such.  But he’s on track. 

 

Then the bell rings and I think to myself, “Even though I didn’t get peace and quiet, finally I have a good conversation about normal life.  And it’s with a student of all people.”  I grab my keys and my phone and we head out to taboor (morning assembly). As the student who beings the call to start taboor attempts to get the rowdy kids in line with the help of the sports teacher, Mohammed beings to open up more to me.

 

Mohammed tells me how much he misses his brother.  He tells me how close his brother and he were about 5 years ago before he moved away to study.  He tells me how much he misses the talks with his brother.  For a second, I thought Mohammed was getting a little choked up.  If you’ve dealt with people in this region, they do not get emotional with things for the most part – so I was surprised.  I asked Mohammed if he was looking to study abroad when he graduates from KBW (Mohammed wants to be a pilot).  He said he wasn’t sure.  I asked him if he had any plans to work aboard after he finished studying at university. He said he didn’t think he could leave his family. He said he would miss his family too much. 

 

And then I was invested even more in this conversation.

 

I was 100% relating to what he was saying.  I felt like I was looking at myself several years ago – even as far back as high school.  I remember that same feeling my senior year in high school when I just couldn’t fathom actually leaving my parents to go to college.  No way!  And then as an adult and having kids, never in a million years did I think I’d be living 8,200 miles away from home! 

 

I tell Mohammed I felt the same way he did when I was getting to the end of high school. And even as an adult I never thought I’d leave.  But things happened and here I am!  He says, “And Mr. Shawn – you’re going back to America to be with your family!”  I couldn’t help but smile and say, “I sure am!  I can’t wait!” 

 

And thinking it was over at this point, Mohammed couldn’t just stop there!  He says, “Won’t you miss the friends and relationships you have made here?”  I told him that I sure would.  I was explaining to him that so many teachers left their lives back home and started this new journey and all we had was each other to relate to and share the frustrations with.  It becomes so easy to connect with others – especially when you’re all in the same boat. And even more when you’re in the boat and you feel like it’s sinking!  HA! 

 

Mohammed asks if I have a job. I explain to him that Jennifer and I both have jobs back in our same school district.  I know he has no clue what I meant by district. But he says, “That’s good!”  He then asks, “In a good school?”  I just said, “In a real school where students, for the most part, listen and behave. And that’s partly because there are real consequences for students who misbehave.”  He laughs.  He laughs because he understands what I’m really saying beyond just some words coming out of my mouth.  And maybe he understands partly because earlier in the morning he asked me if I would “learn” (they’re always confusing learn and teach!) him in grade 11.  I responded with a, “Noooooo – no, no, no! I’m going back to America!”

 

Then it was that awkward moment for Mohammed, not me, when he wasn’t sure how to end the conversation and get into his class line. I just said, “Thanks for talking Mohammed!”  He replies, “I will see you tomorrow morning, Mr. Shawn.” 

 

There goes the peace and quiet I look for each morning. 

 

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