I open the brown wooden doors of Whitney High School without the comfortable feeling of familiarity with my surroundings. I attempt to stand tall, to seem as if I don’t notice that as I make my way to the locker I was assigned to, all eyes are on me; or I should say more specifically; on my hijab. I’m used to hearing the whispers in public, now that I’m in New York . Here’s my sob story: my hometown in Saudi Arabia was bombed, and my mother and father fought our way out of there, so now we are here “living”; although I hardly feel this is living as it is defined..

We’re all still adjusting, but I’ve never felt so out of place in my life. The people here are so judgemental, especially the girls around my age. I am entering the eleventh grade. This is my first day of school here. My classes are a bit challenging for this year, but I’ve always been a good student and I plan on focusing on my studies harder than I ever have before.  I should have no distractions since it seems that the people here have no interest in associating with me. I know this because in both first and second period today, I received nasty glares from almost everyone but my teachers. I’m excited for AP Literature; English is by far my favorite subject, and I feel extremely passionate about writing. It’s the only thing I feel I’m any good at.

I walk into the brisk room on the second floor and walk towards the desk to introduce myself to the friendly looking man sitting on it. He smiles at me;  he’s the first person to do so today.  “Hello there, my name is Mr. Bruner, you must be Rasha.  How’s your first day going so far?” Suddenly, I feel a sense of belonging, and I let out a sigh before saying “It’s been nerve racking and a little intimidating but I’m looking forward to this class”. See, it’s times like this where I’m grateful that my english is exceptionally good. As groups of other students enter, he attempts to comfort me by saying “Hey, well, it’s only the first day- socializing will get easier, and to honest, teachers get nervous, too.  Why don’t you  take a seat  because I’m going to go over the typical first day procedures  and give the usual boring lecture everyone suffers through on the first day”.  I laughed, thanked him, and took a seat near the front of the classroom.  He was right; it was monotonous and boring, but  Mr. Bruner made me feel better. This environment felt much safer to me; a few of my fellow classmates even said hello to me and initiated conversation first.

I met this really nice girl named Lola. She’s short and has crazy bright blue hair and carries this kind of positive aura around with her. She invites me to sit with her at lunch; thank goodness I won’t be alone.  As we make our way to the third floor, Lola tells me that she and her friend Goldi have a reserved spot. She gives me a brief summary of all of the people I should look out for; three names  that stood out to me were Maya, Natalie, and Bella. All three of them were in my physics class, I know because while the teacher was calling attendance they were attempting to harmonize obnoxiously loud, only making them look more stupid than they did when they waltzed into the room with their matching pink skirts and pigtails. Lola tells me that they are considered to be “popular” because they’re mean and pretty. She mentions that everyone is scared to cross them because they’re a group of three.

Even back at home in Saudi Arabia, mean girls paired like this. I just hope I’m not a target here because I am the new girl. We finally reach the secret lunch spot and immediately we are greeted by a skinny strawberry blonde girl who I’m assuming is Goldi. She, just like Lola,is extremely easy to talk to. These girls really wanted to know about me, they were genuine and funny. I’m lucky I met them.

It’s now Friday, my first week is complete! This weekend is homecoming. Maya and Bella were talking about it, they’re the heads of Homecoming Committee. I discovered that Lola was right about those two and Natalie; they are cruel. I’m glad I have Lola and Goldi because if it wasn’t for them, I would most likely be worked up about all of the horrible things those three have said to me and about me this week. They keep referring to me through the use of religious slurs. For example, when I walked into physics the other day Maya screamed “Hey carpet kisser!” and the whole class laughed, as if what she was saying was humorous in some way. Of course, being me; I stood there silent, as I didn’t know how to react. After about a minute of staring at them in pure shock, Natalie presumed to say “Are you not gonna say hello back?! That’s a bit rude if you ask me” and yet again, the three of them laughed together, as the class did the same. This is only one of the many times they’ve said something like that,  I’ve ignored each comment thrown at me this week and I’m  proud of myself for it.

I’m on my way to ask Bella for a permission slip now because from the information I’ve gathered about that group,she appears to be the “nicest”. I’m walking into the very sacred cafeteria, only to see my favorite “pretty girl possy” in the center table surrounded by some basic, good looking jocks. I walk towards Bella. “Um, hi, I was wondering if I could get a permission slip for the dance tomorrow from you please”.

She gives me a look, almost as if she’s embarrassed for me before saying “Sorry sweetie, no Arabs allowed.” I thought maybe she was joking.  I waited before walking away. I waited for her to laugh or to throw the old “I’m joking!” out there.   I really thought she would “take back” what she said, but, she didn’t. I can feel my eyes welling up as I finally build up the courage to walk away. Now I’m heading to the third floor. I’m searching for my friends. When I find Lola and Goldi they’re in just as much disbelief as I am. Lola screams “How dare she?! Who does she think she is, telling people where they can and can’t be?!” and Goldi chimes in by saying “Not to mention that she called you an Arab as if you being Muslim was a bad thing. That girl is seriously messed up.” I agree with them both, still holding in my tears.

“I guess you guys will have to go without me” I say, struggling to smile.

“No way! We’re going, I’ll get three permission slips! We’re gonna look amazing, and we’re going to tell those bossy brats off once and for all” Lola exclaimed.

“Yes! If you guys want, come get ready at my place before, at around 5:30” Goldi says.

Lola and I both nod our heads, and at this point I really am smiling, I have hope that we’ll have fun. ’m anxious to stand up to the girls , though I’ve been preparing what I have to say and I truly have faith that after I confront them this time, I won’t ever have to again.

My alarm clock is ringing and I turn it off without looking at the time. I wake up at 3:30 because my phone is blasting with texts from Lola and Goldi saying I should come over earlier! Wow, I must have been emotionally drained from this week.  I grab my dress, my hijab, and makeup and I’m off to get ready with the girls.  When it’s time to go, we hop in Lola’s car and blast our favorite songs.

We’re here now and I’m nervous. When we walked in, Maya, Bella, and Natalie all stood there, mouths hanging open ; I guess they were surprised someone disobeyed their orders for once. For awhile, everyone’s dancing and singing and I’m having a great time. This is, until I hear the principal make an announcement about homecoming king and queen. I know who’s going to win. It will be Maya and her egotistical loudmouth boyfriend, Brian Hoffman.  Lola, Goldi and I decided that this is our time to make a statement. Something powerful is coming over me, I feel so angry I think I could burst. Next thing I know I’m walking up to the stage; practically stomping. I grab the mic before Maya does and here I am...all eyes on me. This is my chance to defend myself and other people like me; people who are being put down for our differences.

“Uh, hello. I know this is weird and I know a good majority of you have no idea who I am- but my name is Rasha, I’m new here. Maya, the girl you’ve voted as your homecoming queen, has been bullying me with her friends, Natalie and Bella , since I got here. They’ve called me a carpet kisser, a raghead, and worse things that I don’t even feel comfortable repeating. I know that I’m not the only person being teased or taunted by them for my differences, my religion, or for the way I dress. I also know that I can’t be the only person who thinks this is wrong and unfair. I can’t be the only person who wants to do something about it. The bullying in this school needs to stop.

I’ve only been here for a week and I’ve seen so much of it, too much of it. Who’s with me?!”

All of that just spilled out, I have no idea what happened to my stage fright in this exact moment, but here I am, alone on stage, while the audience is silent! When I turn to walk off of the stage, ashamed and feeling as pathetic as ever, I hear a single clap. Then another; I look up to see Lola and Goldi are cheering for me, then it felt   like the whole gym is chanting and supporting me!

The principal pulls me aside and says, “Rasha, what you just did was very brave. I will be calling the girls into my office . Just know that we are going to make Whitney a safer environment. We have to thank you for making the students and staff more aware.”. She shakes my hand and I smile. I’m glad I did what I just did. When I return to the dance floor, people rush up to me to introduce themselves and explain their own personal experiences with bullying.  I can tell I’m not the only one who has felt this way. I feel at peace with my surroundings, with my friends, with my peers. I can make it through the school year, I’m going to be just fine here in America.