Student Spectrums

“Trinnnggg” the school bell rang as all the students rushed into their classes. I found my class on the map and headed straight to it. Once everyone entered and found a seat the teacher started a roll call, she read aloud every foreign name twice. Once figuring out how to pronounce it and a second time to confirm. Everything was going well until she stumbled onto my name.

“K-kh-aa-dii-jaaa-hh”, she said curiously, wondering who the name belonged to.

I immediately got up while my heart sank to my feet, while mustering up some courage to blabber just a few words.

“You can call me ‘kk’…”, I said awkwardly.

The whole class was staring, not one person was distracted.

The teacher looked up at me while finishing her sentence, “Khadijah…. that’s a pretty name”

Then said, “It’s fine, I think we can all call you Khadija.”

When I came home that afternoon I barged in through the door and went upstairs agitated. Then I slammed my door shut, jumped onto my bed and wrapped myself in a blanket. Mom was in the kitchen while I entered the house and didn’t hear me come in. Though she followed after me as I stomped across the flight of stairs noisily.

“Khadijah” mom shouted, trying to get me to turn to her. “What happened? Did your first day of school not go well?”

“No!” I shouted loudly while sobbing hard.

Mom was desperate to get answers. “Come out so we can talk about it” she said worryingly.

“I’ll come out when I’m ready” I said.

Hours passed and I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened in class that morning. I had managed to embarrass myself on the first day of middle school. I hated having such a weird name. I always thought to myself, couldn’t my parents have given me a normal name like every other kid in school does.

I came out of my room hours later and was ready to talk to my parents about the same problem I always bring up…. My name.

We all sat down on the dinner table looking at each other in disappointment. I took a deep breath and started talking. I told them how I think my name doesn’t fit me and that people might find it weird. No one responded, everyone was just looking down. I was mad because no one ever thought about how I felt. I rushed back to my room and started crying again, though I eventually fell asleep as I had school the next day.

I woke up the next morning not wanting to go to school, but I was forced to because our teacher assigned us homework on the first day of school. We had to write a paragraph about how our first day went. I just said it was good because telling my new teacher my problems seemed irrelevant.

When I entered the school I rushed into my classroom but stood at the door debating on whether I should go in or not. What if someone teases me about what happened yesterday? What if I get bullied? I took a deep breath and walked in, it felt like no one was paying attention, everyone was doing their own thing. The teacher greeted me with a smile and said,

“Hello Khadija, how are you doing this morning?”

“Hi, it’s going fine, thanks,” I said in an annoyed tone.

Everyone sat down and the teacher started a roll call once again, but this time she called me ‘KK’. I felt better now, other kids started calling me KK and welcomed me to sit with them during lunch. I felt like I finally belonged.

Later that day I came back home late because I was out with some friends. I entered and said Salam to everyone in the house and went up to my room happily. When I came down for dinner my older sister, Zahra, asked me how school went today.

I replied cheerfully, “It went amazing!”

After dinner I went upstairs to get ready to sleep. My sister followed behind and then asked,

“Hey Khadija, wanna get ice cream tomorrow?”

“Stop calling me that!”

“I’ve told you multiple times, why can’t you get it right?” I shouted furiously.

“Sorry”, she said in a disappointed voice, “I’ll remember next time”

She said goodnight and left the room. She then dragged herself downstairs to Mom full of sorrow and said,

“Why is she like this now?”

Her mom replied, “This is just how she is, we can’t do anything.”

Then suddenly a spark lit up on Zahra’s face, so bright even holding it in seemed impossible.

“What is it?” Mom asked, curious about what she seemed to be boiling up.

“I think I have a plan,” she said, “something that will help her feel proud of her name”

“Okay?” Her mom said unsurely.

When I woke up the next morning to get ready for school my mom and sister had planned out an entire day of fun and games.

“You can skip school for today” she said as I got up from my bed.

“Really?” I said with excitement.

“Just for today”, Mom said, “I’ve planned something you’ll absolutely love”

I got ready and rushed down the stairs.

“What is it?” I asked confusedly, “Did I forget someone’s birthday again?”

“No, no, no. Today we will learn more about our names.” Mom said. “This will be something you will always remember”

We sat down on our couch and watched a slide presentation my sister had created. It had each one of our names with the meaning and history behind them. She got to my name last and said,

“I saved the best for last”

When she read all the information out loud, I realized that my name is sacred, something I should be proud of, not ashamed. Also that I have a duty to live up to that name now. That from now on I am Khadijah.

I symbolize intelligence, loyalty, wisdom, and independence. Not shame and cowardice.