The Girls

"You get on the bus and it takes you where it wants to go". A wise and funny teacher I worked back in the 90s announced this one day as I was walking down the hall to sign in for another day of teaching. He was a funny guy who had the knack of hitting the nail right on the head at just the right time. I think of his comment often as my week unfolds. It is rare that a week goes by in which what I expected to happen, happens. I often feel like a pawn in a drama that I can't quite keep up with and so, I end each week with my mind exhausted yet, unable to rest. 

The theme of this week was the Palestinian girls with A3 in the lead. They all have names that start with A so for convenience, I am putting them in age order. They youngest, A3 is 15 is and a bit on the wild side. Her name means lion in Arabic so if you know Arabic, I may have breached confidentiality regarding her first name anyway. Of course I have read about the many Muslim communities and am aware that my readings don't begin to scratch the surface of this multifaceted people under the umbrella of this heading, Muslim. Is it only a religion? Is it a culture? Much more to understand. And as a Jew who has a modicum of understanding when it comes to Israel, I feel obligated to better understand our Arab brothers and sisters, with whom we fight mercilessly, or not. Perhaps God has put these girls in my path to bring me toward understanding.

So here they are, the three of them. A1 is of Palestinian descent. She was born in New Jersey but spent the last two summers in "my country", the first of those summers  for the double wedding of her 30 something uncles to teenage sisters. The second of those summers for the wedding of her older sister. I have known A1 since 2009. I was her 8th grade teacher. She can be a real pistol but this only adds to my fondness for her. Her presence in this group has added to the turmoil of late because of a falling out she had with A2 and A3. The falling out had to do with a boy, as falling outs often do. The boy is from Yemen and has been A1's not so secret boyfriend for going on three years now. Everyone in our program knows. A1's parents do not. Of late, it seemed she had become jealous, of any bit of attention her not so secret beau, paid to these girls, A2 and A3

Class has been tense lately. "The girls" as we call them, A2 and A3 have become the enemies of A1. It seems to have started, or come to a head when A1 and M were absent on the same day only to be bombarded upon their return by A3 accusing, demanding, wondering if they'd been together. A1 has a very private side to her. She calls herself shy, often. She became furious. They have been either arguing, or ignoring each other, since. No, not true. Let me rephrase. A1 is happy to ignore them. A3 cannot accept A1's rejection. It's turmoil if I am not the most structured of my entire career. I get stomach aches before my 90 minutes with them ( did I mention that there are 9 other students in the room with about 5 varied languages?)

Computer projects sometimes keep the peace. We do a lot of them and as long as all computers work, I can keep peace running between 11 students. Today A3's computer isn't working. The iPad is hooked up to the projector. "There you go, A3, just use that"  I am engaged in helping another student when my oral student O accuses A3 of making fun of him. I look over at her busily working on the IPad which is projecting and see that she has changed my keyboard to Arabic. In her newly acquired unclear ASL mixed with Arabic signs, she tells me that she was just showing O that she can use the Arabic keyboard and google translate to type in English. Well done! Clever girl! O is relieved  that he isn't being made fun of and I go back to helping C. A minute later I look up at the screen where I see projected in large typed letters: HELL TO YYYSRAEL. . . After my initial shock, I say something like "NO, NO, YOU ARE NOT TO TYPE THAT! " as I head quickly to the projector to remove it. She says, "Why not?" and mimics a soldier shooting a machine gun in a sweeping motion.  

This was not the end of it. Days and weeks went by.  Language improved and so followed, communication. They were able to tell me things about their life in Palestine, their move to a safer, Jordan, their move back to an improved Palestine. The older, A3 wrote a short essay on peace and how much had improved over the years with their neighbor, Israel. They told me of jewish women who came and taught them some English.  Their were some other tense moments but countering that was our growth together and continued understanding. A1 made up with the girls. Her boyfriend convinced her that it was a "haram" (shame, forbidden) for her not to help the girls with her friendship. We all grew but Oh, what a moment it was for this Jewish lady looking up and seeing those words on her screen, "Hell to Israel", however misspelled.