I walk into Public School 50 the next day. Their recess lot on the way in was the biggest I have ever seen, carpeted areas with bookshelves around them in the classrooms, there’s projectors are shining on the boards, and the hallways are made of colorful tiles- blue, green, and red. It looks pleasant as far as concerned, how scary could it be? A staff member with long I’m curly hair leads me to my classroom. we she says. Do you remember the way she asks with “Here are,” “room 304. here?” some hand motions to make sure I understood. I remember the way actually. I was so didn’t distracted trying to see inside the classrooms. I nodded anyway. When I walk in a seating chart on the board; I follow it “Yes.” there’s to where my seat appears to be and sit down. I take out my journal and begin to draw as I wait for class to start. But suddenly, as more people start coming in, I hear a voice directly above my head. in my A tall girl with beady eyes and short brown hair looks down at me. “You’re seat.” I ask pointing to my seat to make sure I understood. She squints, looking “…This?” confused. “Yes, this.” my I say in broken English as I walk to the board to point. “But name is… here.” in the front of the she explains, over-enunciating, in the “That’s classroom,” “not back.” I say as I collect my things and move. I feel her staring the entire time I do “Oh, sorry.” so. When her friends arrive I see them whispering and pointing towards me from the corner of my eye, but I pretend not to notice. After a while a girl who looks Arab takes a seat next to me. you speak I “Hi, Arabic?” take a chance and ask.
I walk into Public School 50 the next day. Their recess lot on the way in was the biggest I have ever seen, there’s carpeted areas with bookshelves around them in the classrooms, projectors are shining on the boards, and the hallways are made of colorful tiles- blue, green, and red. It looks pleasant as far as I’m concerned, how scary could it be? A staff member with long curly hair leads me to my classroom. “Here we are,” she says. “room 304. Do you remember the way here?” she asks with some hand motions to make sure I understood. I didn’t remember the way actually. I was so distracted trying to see inside the classrooms. “Yes.” I nodded anyway. When I walk in there’s a seating chart on the board; I follow it to where my seat appears to be and sit down. I take out my journal and begin to draw as I wait for class to start. But suddenly, as more people start coming in, I hear a voice directly above my head. “You’re in my seat.” A tall girl with beady eyes and short brown hair looks down at me. “…This?” I ask pointing to my seat to make sure I understood. She squints, looking confused. “Yes, this.” “But my name is… here.” I say in broken English as I walk to the board to point. “That’s in the front of the classroom,” she explains, over-enunciating, “not in the back.” “Oh, sorry.” I say as I collect my things and move. I feel her staring the entire time I do so. When her friends arrive I see them whispering and pointing towards me from the corner of my eye, but I pretend not to notice. After a while a girl who looks Arab takes a seat next to me. “Hi, you speak Arabic?” I take a chance and ask.
FrontMatterandStoriesRevised.docx