Soussi 1

Marwa Soussi

Professor Herring

Creative Writing

11/23/18

English Took My Breathe… Away

“Yes, Marwa. Do you know who was the first president of the United States of America?”

My mind was clear and for once not foggy on this cold Monday morning. I nodded my head meekly and looked around the spacious, colorful classroom  to witness my classmates’ reactions.

“Well, Marwa. Who was it?”

“George Washington!”

The name blurted out of my mouth as I made sure to be quick enough to look at my classmates’ reactions. Boy, were they priceless! That’s what they get for thinking I’m never going to speak in English.

“Guys it’s December and Marwa still doesn’t know how to speak in English, please. As if, I don’t believe that she was even born here. American-borns speak English, and what are you? A terrorist, always speaking in Arabic.”

I am going to punch Michelle in her face and show her what a “terrorist” really is. But, she’s right. What am I, if I was born in the United States of America and I don’t speak English. What will people think of me?

To be honest, I was actually pretty discouraged to the point where I didn’t believe in myself.

“No, Ms. Guridee. You don’t understand! I try, but I just have a problem making the English words roll off of my tongue.” I wrote to my kindergarten teacher in my notebook.

Soussi 2

She smiled sweetly which made my heart flutter, “You will someday, sweetheart.”

I replayed that moment in my mind ever since I got home that day, Friday afternoon. Looking at the 5,000 words I had clumsily typed with two fingers, my index finger on my right hand and my index finger on my left hand.

Click, click, click.

The sound of the keyboard and my tiny fingers attempting to type as fast as I could which was 10 words per minute made me realize that I couldn’t throw all my hard work to waste.

I walked to the hall mirror and I knew that this was going to be weird, but it was going to be worth it. 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 that would determine how my mouth would look when I spoke in English.

Looks are important to me, I always want to look good.

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 weekend 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.

Soussi 3

“وين راحو كرطبي؟”

(Ween rahu kurtabi)

Oh, right here… hehe… sorry Mario.

I opened up my Princess Peach bookbag and took out the list of 5,000 words that I had created which I knew was going to be a challenge, but I knew I could overcome it. 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.

“واش كاين بنتي؟”

(Wesh kayan binti)

“Nothing mommy,” I said in English.

OMG! I said my first three words in English already, just out of impulse.

“الحمد الله! بنتي بدات تهدر اونقلئ.”

(Alhamdulilah binti bdat tahdar bil Anglais)

My mother screamed in Arabic and French. She even tried Spanish.

“¡Ay, mi amor! ¡Mi hija!”

Soussi 4

“ماما, انا ماكنتش نعرف بلي انت تعرفي تهدري بلسبنيوليا!”

(Mama ana makountsh 3arfa bili inti ta3arfi tahadri bil spanioloiya)

“Well, your father taught me, my love.”

She kept on talking about if I wanted to be multilingual like my father and herself, then I should try to speak and listen to them speak in all these languages at 24/7. I simply nodded my head, let my mother do her thing, went back to the mirror and stared at that girl one more time. I looked at my papers once more.

Here we go!

Let your tongue speak what your heart thinks.

“Where’s my bookbag?”

“What’s wrong, my daughter?”

“Allah thank you! My daughter is speaking in English.”

“Oh, my love! My daughter!”

“Mommy, I didn’t know that you know how to speak in Spanish!”

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