bigheadzilla-blog

[bigheadzilla-blog]

Journey Away from Home

“Yousef! Yousef! Yousef, get up right now, you’re going to be late for your first day of school,” my mom screamed into my ear while trying to wake me up.

           “Oh, shit,” I thought to myself as I begrudgingly got out of bed. After two and a half months of summer vacation and two long weeks of searching for a new school, it was finally time for my first day of school in America. I was never happy about moving here, I always wanted to stay in Canada, with all of my friends that I had known for pretty much my entire life. The reason we did move here of all places was because my mother was American. I tried to stay keep a positive attitude about moving here, but after reading that Louisiana was among one of the most racist states in America, and being of partial Pakistani heritage, I guess knew it was only a matter of time before things started to go south for me.

           I quickly got ready and headed downstairs for breakfast. “This uniform feels like paper. Why do I have to go to a private school anyways?” I said as I stuffed my mouth with a spoonful of cereal.

           “Look Yousef, your father and I want you to live an easy and comfortable life,” my mom replied.

“Comfortable? With this uniform?” I said with an annoyed look on my face.

“Just listen to your mother,” said my uncle Frank said as he walked into the kitchen, “trust me, everyone will think you’re cool if you listen to your mother.” I was perplexed by his answer and didn’t know what to say. I always liked my uncle Frank, he was a short, stubby, balding man who wore gigantic glasses. I think he just tried a bit too hard to be funny and cool. Nevertheless, he is really nice and sweet.

After finishing my breakfast, I got into the backseat of the car and headed off to my new school. “Now Yousef, make sure to introduce yourself to everyone and try to make a lot of friends,” my mom said looking back at me.

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” I answered in an uninterested tone.

           “C’mon Yousef, try to lighten up a bit,” my mom said trying to brighten my mood, “I’m sure your first day of school will go well”.

           “How can you be so positive about this mom? You can’t seriously be happy about moving here”.

           “No one is happy about moving here Yousef, your father is still back in Canada out on the sea working hard just for you. Can’t you just try to be positive, if not for yourself, at least for him”.

           “Okay mom, but I’m still not happy about this.”

           “That’s fine, I don’t expect you to be happy, but at least try to look at the bright side of things. I know you can do it, you’re a good boy Yousef”.

           I finally arrived at school, kissed my mom goodbye, and headed for the main gate of the school. It was a small private school with a little under 200 students, so everyone in the school already knew each other. The school principal came to meet me at the administration and guided me to my class. As he took me to my class, he told me that the school was happy to have me and that I was a great addition to this class. I smiled at him not to be rude, but deep down, I knew that I was not going to be happy here.

I walked into the classroom and the whole classroom went silent. The principal introduced me to everyone and told them that I was a new student. Everyone looked confused. You see, the school started a month and a half before I joined in late. All of the students stared at me, looking at me as if I were an animal in a zoo exhibition. After the principal finished introducing me, I sat down in the closest seat to me. A few of the students came to me and asked me my name and I told them. They didn’t seem too bad and I kind of liked a few of them. That was until the homeroom teacher entered. “All right class settled down everyone, get in your seats so I can take attend- Wait, who let this chocolate bar inside the class?” said Mr. Johnson pointing  referring to my darker skin. The whole class roared with laughter. I felt embarrassed but kept my composure.

“No, no, I know who you are, c’mon get up in front of the class and introduce yourself new kid.” I got up in front of the class, and that was when I made the biggest mistake of my life.

“My name is Yousef Mahmoud, I’m a fifteen years old,” I said at the front of the class

“And where you from Yousef,” said Mr. Johnson asked me.

“I came here from Canada, but I am a Muslim that originated from Pakistan.” I replied. As soon as I uttered those words, I could see the laughter that filled the student’s faces previously had quickly vanished.

“Umm… Okay, th-thank you, you can go back to your seat now,” Mr. Johnson said with a stutter. I saw the disgust in the eyes of the other students and realized what I had said and where I had said it. I just told a bunch of naïve fifteen-year olds that I was not only Muslim, but that I was also from Pakistan. It would have been better if I had put a target right on my forehead.

I could hear the whispers of the other students. I heard the gossip going about. The rumors that spread across the entire school. I had a lot of time to think about the situation I was in throughout the school day. I realized that my parents were actually working really hard for me and I didn’t want them to worry. So I decided not to tell my parents about what had happened.

That day when I got home, I told my mom that I had a great day and that I loved the school. I cried myself to sleep that night, not the first time, and certainly not the last.

For the next couple of days, no one talked to me. I was completely alone at lunch. I actually preferred class time because it was the only place I could sit and be silent without looking like a loser. Every day I would come home with a big smile on my face but it was eating away at me on the inside. I couldn’t handle putting on this mask. For many nights before going to bed, I would Skype my best friend from back in Canada, Osaed, telling him about how much I hated it here. Multiple times I would come crying to him, but that was only the beginning.

About two weeks in, the other students realized how vulnerable I was. They started to take advantage of me. They started bullying me. Every morning when I came into homeroom, I dreaded seeing one person’s face, a kid named Richard. Richard was a tall, overweight, freaking horrible human being. His only purpose was to make my life miserable. He was the worst part of every single day of my life. I can’t even begin to explain how horrifying the things he did to me were.

           There were a lot of things he and his friends did to me. They did the usual bullying things, like beating me up, making fun of me, spreading rumors, but there was one thing that stood above the rest. I was fasting during the month of Ramadan and Richard knew of this, he took advantage of how vulnerable I would be during that time. He forced food down my throat every single day. He disrespected my beliefs and my religion. I always tried my hardest to resist, but to no avail. That really hurt me mentally and emotionally. I’m lost for words on what an abomination that kid was. I honestly couldn’t understand how anyone could be such a horrible human being. The worst part is, pretty much everyone in my class knew about what was happening to me. No one did anything about it. No one talked to me. No one helped me at all. No one even tried.

           I tried talking to my homeroom teacher, Mr. Johnson, about how I was being treated repeatedly, but he said there was nothing he could do. He kept on telling me that none of the teachers really had any control over the student’s actions. I couldn’t understand the kind of school this was. How could a school disregard what was happening to their students.

           I was completely lost. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t think clearly. No human being should ever have to go through what I had been through. I had to hide my bruises from my mother. I went straight to my room after coming home from school telling my mother that ii had a lot of school work to do. I kept my interaction with people as minimum as possible. I didn’t want things to get any worse than were. This is usually the part in the story where I tell you how I overcame my obstacle and how I defeated my problems, but it isn’t. It only got worse and worse.

Three months had passed by and I was in the worst state of mind I had ever been in. There was pretty much no one by my side. The only people I had supporting me who knew about this were a few close friends from back home, but it’s not like they could really even do anything about it. I kept my family oblivious throughout everything. My uncle Frank actually had not been feeling so well for the past couple of months and my mother was worried sick about him. With all the work they do for me, I wouldn’t want them to have to start worrying about me as well. I just thought that it would be too much stress for them to handle if I told them because it was definitely too much for me to handle.

           In early December, my uncle Frank passed away due to coronary artery disease. It wasn’t easy for me or my mom. He was the only sibling my mother had and they had a really strong bond. My dad was there at the funeral. I met with him for the first time in months. We sat down on a bench and I asked him, “How long are you here for dad?”

           “Just for another two days Yousef,” he replied.

           “Have you found any way for us to be able to move back to Canada?” I asked him with a glimmer of hope in my eye.

           “You know I’m trying, I’m really trying,” he answered back, “but aren’t you happy here, you told your mother that you’ve been having fun at school”.

           The guilt of lying to my parents struck at my heart. “Ye-, yea but, it doesn’t compare to back home”.

           “I know son, I know,” he said while kissing my forehead.

I missed a week and a half of school because of my uncle’s death and Richard started spreading rumors. He had told everyone that I had been clinically diagnosed with depression and had to skip school because I was cutting myself. None of this was true (although I had been tempted a few times) but because everyone knew how I was treated, they probably thought that it wasn’t unlikely that it could be true.

           Later that week, the school’s councilor had called for a meeting with me and my mother. I already knew he was going to tell my mother about the rumors that had been spread about me. She still thinks that I’m happy at this school and when she finds out that I’m not, added with the death of my uncle, I can’t even begin to imagine what’s going to happen.

           “Mrs. Mahmoud,” said the councilor, “there have been widespread rumors about your son being clinically depressed, I just wanted to confirm with you to see if this is true.”

           “I’m sorry, I don’t follow,” my mother replied.

           “Well, with the way Yousef is treated here, I’m sure you know something of it,” the councilor replied with a shocked look on his face.

           “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Yousef says he loves it here. He says that he has made lots of friends and that the teachers are good. I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

With those words, the councilor looked at me and said, “I’m afraid that all of those things are untrue. Unfortunately, Yousef isn’t very popular to say the least, he is constantly getting bullied in school. I cannot believe that he hasn’t told you” I shrank into my chair with fear of how my mother was going to react.

“If you knew this was happening, why didn’t you do anything about it?” my mother said to the councilor with a menacing look.

“Mom, it’s fine, you don’t hav-“.

“You keep your mouth shut young man. I’ll get to you too. I can’t believe you lied to me,” my mother cut me off.

“Well you see Mrs. Mahmoud, the school doesn’t take responsibility for the actions of the other students,” replied the councilor with a frantic voice.

“What kind of bullshit school policy is that? You knew my son was getting bullied and you didn’t even think to tell his own mother!”

“We assumed that he had already told you”.

“If he had already told me, we would have had this conversation a lot sooner”. My mother’s voice kept getting louder and louder. I think she was letting out all of her emotions regarding the death of my uncle onto the councilor.

She went on for another ten minutes while I was thinking about what she was going to say to me about everything. She was completely silent on the car ride home. Those ten minutes it took us to get home were the most frightening moments of my life. As soon as we walked into the house, my mother fell on her knees and started sobbing.

“What did I do to deserve this?” my mother asked me, “What did I do Yousef? Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve talked to the principal, I could’ve talked to the bully’s parents, I could’ve even had your school changed. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry about me,” I said as tears rolled down my cheeks, “You and dad already work so hard for me and I just didn’t want to put any more stress on the two of you. I’m sorry for not telling you, I just couldn’t find the willpower to. I was scared about how you would react”.

I couldn’t imagine what was going through my mom’s head. She was probably worried sick about me. I couldn’t blame her. She just found out that her son had been getting bullied in school for three months right after her brother passed away. I wouldn’t blame her if she was losing sleep over it.

The next day, the councilor called me and my mother back to his office to talk about what had happened the day before.

“Mrs. Mahmoud, I have called you back today to talk about possible solutions for the problems your son is facing,” the councilor told my mother.

“Now you come to talk about solutions?” my mother replied, “Not three months earlier when you knew the problem arose”.

“Simply talking to the bullies will not work,” the councilor said ignoring my mother’s comment, “they have sort of gotten used to bullying Yousef dare I say and if we suspend them or put them in detention, they will just start to bully him more”.

“So what do you propose we do?” my mother asked.

“I would say the only real option you have at this point is to have his school changed”.

“Have his school changed? Where on Earth will I find a school willing to accept him three months after the school year has started?”

“Mom, we could move back to Canada, you know I won’t get bullied there,” I said to my mother with a glimmer of hope of her saying yes.

“We went over this Yousef, your dad’s company isn’t paying for the house rent or the school fees anymore. It would just be too expensive to live there”. I knew the reason we couldn’t go back, but I just thought that maybe with all of this going on, my mom would start thinking about possibilities on how we could move back.

“Well Mrs. Mahmoud, other than going to a different school here or moving back to Canada, I cannot think of any other possibilities to save your son from being bullied”.

“Mom, please talk it over with dad, there might be a way for us to move back to Canada,” I said to my mom as a last ditch effort because it didn’t seem like we really had any other options.

“Fine, fine, I will try but, you know we tried to stay, we really did but we couldn’t find a way. Your dad couldn’t find a different job with enough pay to support you going to school,” my mom said back to me.

“It doesn’t matter if you change the school, I wouldn’t mind going to a different school, just anywhere that isn’t here”.

“Alright sweetie, I’ll try my best, but I have already told you many times, it is highly unlikely”.

We couldn’t think of any other solution. It was either switch schools or stay in this shithole. Thinking about possibly going to Canada really put hope in my heart and reminded me of how life was back then. It was a simpler time when everything was easier.

School was good, I was more active. My new school didn’t really put emphasis on sports and I loved playing sports. I really loved playing basketball but after moving here, I completely stopped and my love for the sport vanished. I really wanted to go back and I knew my school would accept me back because I was a model student. I was a straight A student who was captain of the volleyball and basketball team, leading them to the inter-high championship multiple times.

There was just a week left before winter break began and I was finally going to hear some good news for the first time in months. My mom said that for winter break, we were going back to Canada. I was ecstatic, I only had to deal with one more week of school and then I would be back with my friends for two weeks. The last week of school was probably the easiest for me because Richard and some of his friends were out of town so I didn’t really get bullied at all.

We arrived at the airport and my dad was there waiting for us. I hadn’t seen him in months due to his job and gave him a big hug. My mom had told him the situation I was in and said he was doing whatever he can to get us to move back to Canada. I spent most of the time there with my friends, reminiscing about past experiences. I loved every minute I spent there, but was scared of having to go back. I never wanted it to end, but I knew it had to. Or so I thought.

My dad just got a call from his company, their chief engineer just got fired for sleeping with the CEO’s wife so they need him back to become interim chief and to possibly even become the chief engineer again. I couldn’t believe it, there had just been so many downs in my life for months and I finally get some good news. I was so unbelievably happy there are no words to describe it. I was finally going to get my life back. I was finally going to be happy again.

I packed my stuff as fast as I could when we got back to Louisiana. The moving process felt like it flew by in an instant. As winter break ended, we were completely settled back in Canada. I was so incredibly happy that I would be with my friends again. I was up all night on the first day of the second semester. I got ready as fast as I could, went to eat breakfast and was headed off to school. I arrived at school, kissed my mom goodbye and everything was finally back to normal.

[bigheadzilla-blog]

Journey Away from Home

“Yousef! Yousef! Yousef, get up right now, you’re going to be late for your first day of school,” my mom screamed into my ear while trying to wake me up.

           “Oh, shit,” I thought to myself as I begrudgingly got out of bed. After two and a half months of summer vacation and two long weeks of searching for a new school, it was finally time for my first day of school in America. I was never happy about moving here, I always wanted to stay in Canada, with all of my friends that I had known for pretty much my entire life. The reason we did move here of all places was because my mother was American. I tried to stay keep a positive attitude about moving here, but after reading that Louisiana was among one of the most racist states in America, and being of partial Pakistani heritage, I guess knew it was only a matter of time before things started to go south for me.

           I quickly got ready and headed downstairs for breakfast. “This uniform feels like paper. Why do I have to go to a private school anyways?” I said as I stuffed my mouth with a spoonful of cereal.

           “Look Yousef, your father and I want you to live an easy and comfortable life,” my mom replied.

“Comfortable? With this uniform?” I said with an annoyed look on my face.

“Just listen to your mother,” said my uncle Frank said as he walked into the kitchen, “trust me, everyone will think you’re cool if you listen to your mother.” I was perplexed by his answer and didn’t know what to say. I always liked my uncle Frank, he was a short, stubby, balding man who wore gigantic glasses. I think he just tried a bit too hard to be funny and cool. Nevertheless, he is really nice and sweet.

After finishing my breakfast, I got into the backseat of the car and headed off to my new school. “Now Yousef, make sure to introduce yourself to everyone and try to make a lot of friends,” my mom said looking back at me.

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” I answered in an uninterested tone.

           “C’mon Yousef, try to lighten up a bit,” my mom said trying to brighten my mood, “I’m sure your first day of school will go well”.

           “How can you be so positive about this mom? You can’t seriously be happy about moving here”.

           “No one is happy about moving here Yousef, your father is still back in Canada out on the sea working hard just for you. Can’t you just try to be positive, if not for yourself, at least for him”.

           “Okay mom, but I’m still not happy about this.”

           “That’s fine, I don’t expect you to be happy, but at least try to look at the bright side of things. I know you can do it, you’re a good boy Yousef”.

           I finally arrived at school, kissed my mom goodbye, and headed for the main gate of the school. It was a small private school with a little under 200 students, so everyone in the school already knew each other. The school principal came to meet me at the administration and guided me to my class. As he took me to my class, he told me that the school was happy to have me and that I was a great addition to this class. I smiled at him not to be rude, but deep down, I knew that I was not going to be happy here.

I walked into the classroom and the whole classroom went silent. The principal introduced me to everyone and told them that I was a new student. Everyone looked confused. You see, the school started a month and a half before I joined in late. All of the students stared at me, looking at me as if I were an animal in a zoo exhibition. After the principal finished introducing me, I sat down in the closest seat to me. A few of the students came to me and asked me my name and I told them. They didn’t seem too bad and I kind of liked a few of them. That was until the homeroom teacher entered. “All right class settled down everyone, get in your seats so I can take attend- Wait, who let this chocolate bar inside the class?” said Mr. Johnson pointing  referring to my darker skin. The whole class roared with laughter. I felt embarrassed but kept my composure.

“No, no, I know who you are, c’mon get up in front of the class and introduce yourself new kid.” I got up in front of the class, and that was when I made the biggest mistake of my life.

“My name is Yousef Mahmoud, I’m a fifteen years old,” I said at the front of the class

“And where you from Yousef,” said Mr. Johnson asked me.

“I came here from Canada, but I am a Muslim that originated from Pakistan.” I replied. As soon as I uttered those words, I could see the laughter that filled the student’s faces previously had quickly vanished.

“Umm… Okay, th-thank you, you can go back to your seat now,” Mr. Johnson said with a stutter. I saw the disgust in the eyes of the other students and realized what I had said and where I had said it. I just told a bunch of naïve fifteen-year olds that I was not only Muslim, but that I was also from Pakistan. It would have been better if I had put a target right on my forehead.

I could hear the whispers of the other students. I heard the gossip going about. The rumors that spread across the entire school. I had a lot of time to think about the situation I was in throughout the school day. I realized that my parents were actually working really hard for me and I didn’t want them to worry. So I decided not to tell my parents about what had happened.

That day when I got home, I told my mom that I had a great day and that I loved the school. I cried myself to sleep that night, not the first time, and certainly not the last.

For the next couple of days, no one talked to me. I was completely alone at lunch. I actually preferred class time because it was the only place I could sit and be silent without looking like a loser. Every day I would come home with a big smile on my face but it was eating away at me on the inside. I couldn’t handle putting on this mask. For many nights before going to bed, I would Skype my best friend from back in Canada, Osaed, telling him about how much I hated it here. Multiple times I would come crying to him, but that was only the beginning.

About two weeks in, the other students realized how vulnerable I was. They started to take advantage of me. They started bullying me. Every morning when I came into homeroom, I dreaded seeing one person’s face, a kid named Richard. Richard was a tall, overweight, freaking horrible human being. His only purpose was to make my life miserable. He was the worst part of every single day of my life. I can’t even begin to explain how horrifying the things he did to me were.

           There were a lot of things he and his friends did to me. They did the usual bullying things, like beating me up, making fun of me, spreading rumors, but there was one thing that stood above the rest. I was fasting during the month of Ramadan and Richard knew of this, he took advantage of how vulnerable I would be during that time. He forced food down my throat every single day. He disrespected my beliefs and my religion. I always tried my hardest to resist, but to no avail. That really hurt me mentally and emotionally. I’m lost for words on what an abomination that kid was. I honestly couldn’t understand how anyone could be such a horrible human being. The worst part is, pretty much everyone in my class knew about what was happening to me. No one did anything about it. No one talked to me. No one helped me at all. No one even tried.

           I tried talking to my homeroom teacher, Mr. Johnson, about how I was being treated repeatedly, but he said there was nothing he could do. He kept on telling me that none of the teachers really had any control over the student’s actions. I couldn’t understand the kind of school this was. How could a school disregard what was happening to their students.

           I was completely lost. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t think clearly. No human being should ever have to go through what I had been through. I had to hide my bruises from my mother. I went straight to my room after coming home from school telling my mother that ii had a lot of school work to do. I kept my interaction with people as minimum as possible. I didn’t want things to get any worse than were. This is usually the part in the story where I tell you how I overcame my obstacle and how I defeated my problems, but it isn’t. It only got worse and worse.

Three months had passed by and I was in the worst state of mind I had ever been in. There was pretty much no one by my side. The only people I had supporting me who knew about this were a few close friends from back home, but it’s not like they could really even do anything about it. I kept my family oblivious throughout everything. My uncle Frank actually had not been feeling so well for the past couple of months and my mother was worried sick about him. With all the work they do for me, I wouldn’t want them to have to start worrying about me as well. I just thought that it would be too much stress for them to handle if I told them because it was definitely too much for me to handle.

           In early December, my uncle Frank passed away due to coronary artery disease. It wasn’t easy for me or my mom. He was the only sibling my mother had and they had a really strong bond. My dad was there at the funeral. I met with him for the first time in months. We sat down on a bench and I asked him, “How long are you here for dad?”

           “Just for another two days Yousef,” he replied.

           “Have you found any way for us to be able to move back to Canada?” I asked him with a glimmer of hope in my eye.

           “You know I’m trying, I’m really trying,” he answered back, “but aren’t you happy here, you told your mother that you’ve been having fun at school”.

           The guilt of lying to my parents struck at my heart. “Ye-, yea but, it doesn’t compare to back home”.

           “I know son, I know,” he said while kissing my forehead.

I missed a week and a half of school because of my uncle’s death and Richard started spreading rumors. He had told everyone that I had been clinically diagnosed with depression and had to skip school because I was cutting myself. None of this was true (although I had been tempted a few times) but because everyone knew how I was treated, they probably thought that it wasn’t unlikely that it could be true.

           Later that week, the school’s councilor had called for a meeting with me and my mother. I already knew he was going to tell my mother about the rumors that had been spread about me. She still thinks that I’m happy at this school and when she finds out that I’m not, added with the death of my uncle, I can’t even begin to imagine what’s going to happen.

           “Mrs. Mahmoud,” said the councilor, “there have been widespread rumors about your son being clinically depressed, I just wanted to confirm with you to see if this is true.”

           “I’m sorry, I don’t follow,” my mother replied.

           “Well, with the way Yousef is treated here, I’m sure you know something of it,” the councilor replied with a shocked look on his face.

           “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Yousef says he loves it here. He says that he has made lots of friends and that the teachers are good. I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

With those words, the councilor looked at me and said, “I’m afraid that all of those things are untrue. Unfortunately, Yousef isn’t very popular to say the least, he is constantly getting bullied in school. I cannot believe that he hasn’t told you” I shrank into my chair with fear of how my mother was going to react.

“If you knew this was happening, why didn’t you do anything about it?” my mother said to the councilor with a menacing look.

“Mom, it’s fine, you don’t hav-“.

“You keep your mouth shut young man. I’ll get to you too. I can’t believe you lied to me,” my mother cut me off.

“Well you see Mrs. Mahmoud, the school doesn’t take responsibility for the actions of the other students,” replied the councilor with a frantic voice.

“What kind of bullshit school policy is that? You knew my son was getting bullied and you didn’t even think to tell his own mother!”

“We assumed that he had already told you”.

“If he had already told me, we would have had this conversation a lot sooner”. My mother’s voice kept getting louder and louder. I think she was letting out all of her emotions regarding the death of my uncle onto the councilor.

She went on for another ten minutes while I was thinking about what she was going to say to me about everything. She was completely silent on the car ride home. Those ten minutes it took us to get home were the most frightening moments of my life. As soon as we walked into the house, my mother fell on her knees and started sobbing.

“What did I do to deserve this?” my mother asked me, “What did I do Yousef? Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve talked to the principal, I could’ve talked to the bully’s parents, I could’ve even had your school changed. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry about me,” I said as tears rolled down my cheeks, “You and dad already work so hard for me and I just didn’t want to put any more stress on the two of you. I’m sorry for not telling you, I just couldn’t find the willpower to. I was scared about how you would react”.

I couldn’t imagine what was going through my mom’s head. She was probably worried sick about me. I couldn’t blame her. She just found out that her son had been getting bullied in school for three months right after her brother passed away. I wouldn’t blame her if she was losing sleep over it.

The next day, the councilor called me and my mother back to his office to talk about what had happened the day before.

“Mrs. Mahmoud, I have called you back today to talk about possible solutions for the problems your son is facing,” the councilor told my mother.

“Now you come to talk about solutions?” my mother replied, “Not three months earlier when you knew the problem arose”.

“Simply talking to the bullies will not work,” the councilor said ignoring my mother’s comment, “they have sort of gotten used to bullying Yousef dare I say and if we suspend them or put them in detention, they will just start to bully him more”.

“So what do you propose we do?” my mother asked.

“I would say the only real option you have at this point is to have his school changed”.

“Have his school changed? Where on Earth will I find a school willing to accept him three months after the school year has started?”

“Mom, we could move back to Canada, you know I won’t get bullied there,” I said to my mother with a glimmer of hope of her saying yes.

“We went over this Yousef, your dad’s company isn’t paying for the house rent or the school fees anymore. It would just be too expensive to live there”. I knew the reason we couldn’t go back, but I just thought that maybe with all of this going on, my mom would start thinking about possibilities on how we could move back.

“Well Mrs. Mahmoud, other than going to a different school here or moving back to Canada, I cannot think of any other possibilities to save your son from being bullied”.

“Mom, please talk it over with dad, there might be a way for us to move back to Canada,” I said to my mom as a last ditch effort because it didn’t seem like we really had any other options.

“Fine, fine, I will try but, you know we tried to stay, we really did but we couldn’t find a way. Your dad couldn’t find a different job with enough pay to support you going to school,” my mom said back to me.

“It doesn’t matter if you change the school, I wouldn’t mind going to a different school, just anywhere that isn’t here”.

“Alright sweetie, I’ll try my best, but I have already told you many times, it is highly unlikely”.

We couldn’t think of any other solution. It was either switch schools or stay in this shithole. Thinking about possibly going to Canada really put hope in my heart and reminded me of how life was back then. It was a simpler time when everything was easier.

School was good, I was more active. My new school didn’t really put emphasis on sports and I loved playing sports. I really loved playing basketball but after moving here, I completely stopped and my love for the sport vanished. I really wanted to go back and I knew my school would accept me back because I was a model student. I was a straight A student who was captain of the volleyball and basketball team, leading them to the inter-high championship multiple times.

There was just a week left before winter break began and I was finally going to hear some good news for the first time in months. My mom said that for winter break, we were going back to Canada. I was ecstatic, I only had to deal with one more week of school and then I would be back with my friends for two weeks. The last week of school was probably the easiest for me because Richard and some of his friends were out of town so I didn’t really get bullied at all.

We arrived at the airport and my dad was there waiting for us. I hadn’t seen him in months due to his job and gave him a big hug. My mom had told him the situation I was in and said he was doing whatever he can to get us to move back to Canada. I spent most of the time there with my friends, reminiscing about past experiences. I loved every minute I spent there, but was scared of having to go back. I never wanted it to end, but I knew it had to. Or so I thought.

My dad just got a call from his company, their chief engineer just got fired for sleeping with the CEO’s wife so they need him back to become interim chief and to possibly even become the chief engineer again. I couldn’t believe it, there had just been so many downs in my life for months and I finally get some good news. I was so unbelievably happy there are no words to describe it. I was finally going to get my life back. I was finally going to be happy again.

I packed my stuff as fast as I could when we got back to Louisiana. The moving process felt like it flew by in an instant. As winter break ended, we were completely settled back in Canada. I was so incredibly happy that I would be with my friends again. I was up all night on the first day of the second semester. I got ready as fast as I could, went to eat breakfast and was headed off to school. I arrived at school, kissed my mom goodbye and everything was finally back to normal.