How’s that, Reema? Enough material for your stories? When I went back? Well, it was not fun. Some of the classmates looked at me strangely, and many laughed. One girl told everyone I was dirty because I was wearing the same Phillies shirt, but in the camp, we wore the same clothes two or three days in a row unless we got dirty or sweated in them. But I never made that mistake in this country again. Your father always asks me why I buy so many clothes. “Just leave me alone on this issue,” I tell him.

But the first day back, a Korean girl smiled at me, and she sat with me during lunch. I don’t even remember her name now, but she was very petite and very pretty and she used to twirl her hair with her fingers all the time. She moved to a different school the next year, but for the rest of that first year, she was my friend and she knew some English. It was nice. I was grateful. We sat together and read the same books and I even visited her in her home once, with your grandmother. Our mothers couldn’t even say a word to each other, but they just smiled and made these gestures and exaggerated faces, listening to our giggles. Three languages existed in that room, and my friend and I were the only ones who knew more than one. Our English wasn’t great, but it’s like a bridge. As long as it gets you safely to the other side, what else matters?

I have to finish dinner now. OK? Good. Just shape the words I said the way you want—fix them and make them sound good. You are the writer, habibti, not me.

About the Author

About the Author

Susan Muaddi Darraj is associate professor of English at Harford Community College in Bel Air, Maryland. She edited Scheherazade’s Legacy: Arab and Arab American Women on Writing, which was published by Praeger Press in 2004. Her fiction, essays, and articles have appeared in several publications and anthologies. She is also the Senior Editor of The Baltimore Review.