English Took My Breath… Away

Greet everyone you meet and you’ll have a blessed day.

The United States of America. State of New York. City of New York. The number one most diverse place on Earth. And what I call home. What makes NYC so diverse other than ethnicities and nationalities? Language. Almost everyone in NYC speaks one language other than English. Others who speak a language that is not English, go to school to learn the English language. Well, that’s my problem. I don’t know English. This may seem a little contradictory because I’m writing in English, and I can read it and comprehend it too! My problem is, I can’t get the words to roll off of my tongue.

Education, love, and acceptance are a universal language.

Oh! Must’ve slipped my mind… I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Marwa Soussi and I’m 5 years old. I’m in kindergarten and I love my teacher Ms. Guridee. She’s the one who taught me how to write in English, read and understand this well-known language, along with the help of my mother of course. I love you mommy!

Speaking is my soul to life. I need to share my secrets; they’re just too much for me to endure alone.

Want to know a secret? I’m going to learn to speak English. Let me let you in on it. I’m going to stand in front of the hall mirror. Here we are!

I looked up at the 5 foot mirror hanging from the nail on the closet door. I lowered my gaze to meet another girl looking right back at me; a young, baby-faced, 5-year-old girl, with long curly, voluminous, dirty-blonde hair and sweet, shining amber-almond eyes, and skin glowing with a golden-brown tan. Every move I made, she made. I giggled, so did she. I turned my face to the side, precisely neat and clean cut, there it was, the beautiful jawline. I opened my mouth and attempted to say “Hello”. I observed how my jaw moved along to the sound of the word. Wait… what day is it today? Friday, oh yes! This is perfect, I have the weekends to practice speaking as well. I went into my tiny bedroom full of stuffed animals and cartoon characters. I picked up Mario and flung him across the room and started shouting, “Where’s my bookbag?!” Oh, right here… hehe… sorry Mario. I opened up my princess Peach bookbag and took out the list of 5000 words that I had created which I knew was going to be a challenge, but I knew I could overcome it. If I was able to type all of these up in school in 2 weeks, I could memorize them over the weekend. Besides, I have the memory of an elephant, and I’ll show all those stupid kids in my classroom to make fun of me just because I can’t speak English. I looked down at the stack of papers and picked up page 1. It crinkled, I squinted my eyes and read word #1. Beautiful. I broke the word down so I wouldn’t butcher it if I said it all at once. “Be…au…ti…ful. Beau…tiful. Beautiful!” I said it, yes! I jumped up and down, screaming and laughing with joy. My mother came running out of the kitchen, her beautiful embroidered apron tied tight around her slim waist, silver ladle in hand, face horrific with fear that something might have happened to me. “What happened baby? What’s wrong?” “Nothing mommy,” I said in English. OMG! I said my first 3 words in English already, just out of impulse. “Oh my GOD. Allah thank you! My daughter is finally speaking English. ¡Ay mi amor, mi hija!”screamed my mother in all languages she knew. “Mommy, I didn’t know you know Spanish!” I exclaimed. “Well, your father taught me, mi amor,” replied my mother. She kept on talking about if I wanted to be like her or my father trilingual or multilingual, then I should speak and listen to them speak in all these languages at home. I simply nodded my head, and let her do her thing.

Let your tongue speak what your heart thinks.

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