What You Learn

By: Ayah Alkhalil

We very rarely remember when or how weve learned a certain piece of

information, but we will probably remember a first for the rest of our lives. I
do. I remember a first that many dont, something no one should experience
or learn about.
I remember my first year in Canada, I was in grade seven, I went to
Valley Park Middle School, Toronto, Ontario. My grade seven science teacher
was Mr. E. On the first day of school he asked if there were any new students.
I put up my hand and looked around to find that I was the only one, my hand
like a single palm tree in a never ending desert.
The day I do remember though was gray; gray thick clouds, gray
mushy snow, and gray sunlight filtered by the gray clouds. It was the middle
of rude February that spit snow, rain, wind, and especially cold right into my
face. For a person that grew up enveloped by the orange shades of an
Arabian desert, neighboring the sparkling rocky shoreline of the Persian Gulf,
I thought Canadas weather was too dejecting.
Like always, my memory of what a teacher says is almost non-existent,
but I remember that one science class Mr. E. was teaching about landscapes.
Mr. E. had small squinty blue eyes and thinning hair the color of rust. In
fact, he was rusting himself, he always complained and cursed because of
his knees. He had aging spots and eczema all over. He breathed hard and
heavy with his mouth open.
While Mr. E. was talking about landscapes, he pulled out a picture
taken from a worms-eye view on the overhead projector. It was a picture of a
busy highway. On either sides of the road were skyscrapers taunting the
clouds, taunting the sun with their smooth reflective glass surfaces. I felt my
eyes go wide; the picture had gobbled me up whole. I felt like Alice in
wonderland. I knew nothing of the pictures setting, but at the same time
knew everything.
How do we know this picture is not taken in Canada, for example? Mr.
E. asked the class.

It was not in Canada. I knew that blazing sun, I knew that cloudless
sky, and most of all, I knew those tall arrogant palm trees on the concrete
island dividing up the highway into coming and going traffic.
I put up my hand. He nodded at me to answer. Mr. E. was a bit deaf, so
when someone answered a question, theyd have to stand and talk loud and
clear. So I stood like a single palm tree in a never ending desert.
Because palm trees dont grow in Canada, I answered, standing
standing like a palm tree myself.
Excellent, the vegetation, he said. Could you guess where this could
be based on what we learned about landscapes?
Saudi Arabia, I said not missing a beat.
Mr. E. coughed loudly, but it wasnt because he was rusting. It was on
purpose.
Before he even said it, I felt it. Immediately, I saw people shuffling in
their seats, edging closer to hear, I saw them smiling, snickering. Like a
strong wind blowing at the single palm tree, moving the deserts thick soft
sand like it ripples the water on an oceans surface. I felt it, why everybody
thought this could never be a street in The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.
Think about the urban landscape, as well, Mr. E. said. A place where
there are palm trees as well as skyscrapers as tall and modern as these.
But the single palm tree never swayed, only its leaves rustled in
confusion.
To these people that have probably never been outside of this cold
gray blizzard that lasted five months straight, Saudi Arabia is just an extreme
long shot image of an empty never ending desert with a single tent, nomads,
and camels shadows in the background.
Thats when I learned what the true meaning of a stereotype is: a fixed
image about a certain place or group of people. The true meaning of being
subjectively categorized, bound, seen with no potential of change in course.
My minds wheels kept spinning at unimaginable speeds when I
thought about it: Where did they learn about these stereotypes? School? Is
Mr. E. the one that is teaching them? But how did Mr. E. learn about them? It
is most definitely not in the textbook

From that day forward, I started seeing the world in a dull way. I
became self-conscious whenever I sensed that my feelings could affect my
judgment. I would not settle until Ive seen and thought through all possible
perspectives of anything and everything. I started watching people with
sonder. I was afraid of anyone seeing like I saw Mr. E. that day.
.
.
.
that picture could not have been in Saudi Arabia, but the possibilities
include the entire Middle East, North Africa, India, Malaysia, Indonesia, or
Brazil.