#multiculturalism
The first vivid memory I have of Arabic class was plotting how to skip it; my last memory is being talked out of the Thanaweya Amma language exam by a friend. I sat the test anyway, ran a ball-point pen over cheap paper and bounced a leg when I couldn’t scrape meaning off the words I was seeing. My mother hadn’t forced me, but her winded, heart-broken arguments had. She couldn’t fathom how I’d muzzled my native language in favor…
