DEARBORN, MICHIGAN, 1993
Ethan was fourteen. His mother passed away when he was ten. His father, Isaac, was alcoholic and abusive. He was on his own most of the time. His elder sister, Carla, who was sixteen, was hardly home. When she was home, all she did was argue with their father. The income of the family was mostly from the insurance money that their mother left for her children’s education. Isaac was broke and only depended on welfare benefits. He didn’t use the welfare money to buy food for his children. Instead, he used them to mourn the death of his wife, by drinking beer. Ethan and Carla were lucky to have their aunt, Bianca, coming over once a week with supplies for food. Without Bianca, they would probably be dead. Bianca was the only person who actually cared about Ethan and Carla. Ethan did not have friends. He was mostly alone in the classroom. Other kids did not dare to speak to him. They found him cold and aggressive.
It was the second period for the ninth grade. The other kids were talking to each other while Ethan sat alone, by the window. Then, the teacher came in. Ethan stared at him apathetically. “Hello class! My name is Mr. Ahmed and I am not white.” The teacher said. The kids in the class cracked some laughter. Then, Mr. Ahmed continued, “As you may know, I am not black, too!” This time, the whole class broke into laughter. Simon, one of the students, raised his hand. “Shoot!” Mr. Ahmed said, pointing at Simon. “Then, what are you?” Simon asked politely, innocently. Mr. Ahmed smiled and he said, “I… am … yellow!” The class laughed again.
Then, he began to teach Mathematics and there were instances where the kids will laugh from time to time. Ethan found Mr. Ahmed to be funny. He didn’t know where his teacher was from. But he liked him already. He was able to understand the lesson that Mr. Ahmed taught and it was strange, since he was usually bad at this subject. He started to think that maybe it is easier to understand someone that he actually liked. But he wasn’t sure, yet.