Culture (Middle Eastern)
I walked into to school just like I do everyday but today was a little different. Danny was rambling on about the crazy weekend he had. I was still pretty much sleeping and wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying at all, but that’s not the weird part. That’s when I noticed the whole entire school (all 300 of us) standing and laughing at something. So Danny and I decided pushed our way through to see what everyone was looking at. I saw the janitor scrubbing off something on the walls next to my locker. It was bright red spray paint that read in big bold letters “DIE TERRORIST!!!” and the next to it was a very racist picture of a Muslim with a turban on his head and everything. Me being the only Middle Eastern kid in the whole school, I knew it had to be directed towards me. Even though, I don’t dress or act like it, my family doesn’t practice Islam and we don’t wear turbans.
Danny looked at me and asked “who’s the Terrorist?”
That’s when I got hit right in the eye with a big wad of paper and someone yelled “TERRORIST!” It was horrible when I opened eyes I saw spots. Who knew paper could hurt so badly?
The next thing I knew the first bell was ringing and the principle was walking over and yelling at everyone to get to class. So Danny and I started walking towards our first period classroom, and he said “Dude! I didn’t know you were Middle Eastern?” Danny isn’t the brightest crayon in the box.
Then I heard Mrs. Flounder, the principle, holler “Kumar, come with me, please!”
So, I told Danny I would see him later and turned around and started to follow her down the now empty, hallway. Mrs. Flounder didn’t say one word to me the whole walk back to her office. All I could think was, Great! Now the principle thinks I'm a terrorist. We walked into her office and she made me sit on the hardest, most uncomfortable chair that I had ever sat on. And all she said was “so you’re the terrorist?” I was completely speechless at this point. I couldn’t believe the principle actually thought I was a terrorist. If I was a terrorist, which I’m most definitely not, I wouldn’t be in such a small town. I mean don’t terrorist usually live in like New York or something? Then she said with a concerned look on her face “well I know you aren’t a terrorist. But do you know who spray painted it on the wall or why someone would want to call you that?”
“I have no idea,” I replied, “I’m just as shocked as you.”
“I just got off the phone with your parents and they’re on their way to pick you up” she continued. “We think that it’s best that you go home until we figure everything out so no more problems arise.”
I said “okay” and walked out the door. I wasn’t going to argue with her. I really didn’t want to be at school anyways; I hate it there! When my parents showed up they told me they were going to take me to see a movie and go out to lunch. And to top it all off, I don’t have to go to school for a couple days. I guess whoever thought that it would upset me was completely wrong. I didn’t know that a rumor could ever turn out this good.
