Middle of Everywhere - Mary Bray Pipher [64]
Khoa loudly said, "When this movie ends, I will explain everything to you." Mai said, "I come from a town like that one." Twice Khoa shouted out, "I know her." Once Ly said, "That is my friend." For the first time all year, Trinh's eyes were sparkly and her face shone.
I thought how rarely Trinh saw a face like hers on TV, how rarely the hero of any story was a ten-year-old Vietnamese girl. This was too bad since many girls like Ly and Trinh were heroes and deserved to be recognized. Also, it helped all girls to see themselves reflected in that great mirror of life, the television. Being represented signaled the girls that their story mattered. As I watched Trinh become animated, I realized how badly she needed to hear that message.
We need to hear refugee stories; they are more interesting and hopeful than many of the stories we do hear. We Americans watch more movies about space aliens and serial killers than we do about Vietnamese children. But today Trinh blossomed. She spoke for the first time in class. She said, "That little girl looked like me."
As the children left, I handed out "lisi," the special red-and-gold packets with dollar bills. Grace was smiling. I was temporarily cured of my seasonal affective disorder.
February 16, 2000
Before all the kids arrived, Grace talked about Abdul. She was thinking of getting a translator for a meeting with his parents. She wanted to ask how Abdul was at home and if he was different since the family had been bombed crossing the mountains.
As we talked, Abdul arrived wearing a new blue-and-white-checkered shirt. With his creamy skin and big liquid eyes, his appearance was perfect but his psyche had been damaged. The pathology of the world had injured this boy. How different the Gulf War must have looked to Abdul than it had to me.
In fact, all the historical events these kids had experienced seem different to me now. I am much more aware now that many Vietnamese paid a terrible price for being our friends during what they call the American War. The wars in Croatia and Bosnia seem much sadder now that I know children from those countries. Now, every war has a human face. Nothing is abstract and faraway anymore.
Ly raced into die room and handed me a beautiful handmade valentine that said "I love Miss Mary." I almost wept.
This week the spelling words were about feelings. Grace read them out: "Happy," "sad," "mad," "surprised," and "scared." The word "sad" triggered Pavel to bring up the rat's death. Deena said quickly, "We are happy to have a new rat." Fatima said, "I was scared to fly to America."
I asked about anger. Abdul said, "I'm mad at my father for shouting at me." Grace and I exchanged looks. Ignazio said, "I am mad when we don't have enough to eat." Mai said, "I am mad when my father doesn't come home from work."
Grace read a book entitled, What Would You Do? The first question was, "What would you do if you went home from school and were locked out?" Khoa joked he would pee in the bushes. Deena said, "I would be scared and sad." Ly said, "I would pray for my mother to return." Pavel said, "I would break in."
This led to another animated round of robbery stories. The kids thought that in America all robbers were African Americans. Grace worked to dispel this myth, but there was a big issue here. Fatima said she had seen blacks stab people on television, and Abdul said his parents were afraid of blacks and wouldn't go out at night for fear black people would rob them. This fear came mostly from watching television and movies where so often African Americans are portrayed as criminals.
Grace explained 911 and also what to do if your parents are not home after school