SEPTEMBER TO REMEBER, BUT IN JUNE WE BUSTED OUR BALLOON

I clearly remember the events that lead me to attend the first day of school. A week earlier I was playing with my peers and each one of them was excited about going to the first grade. At that time I have no clue about attending school. Early morning of the first day of September of 1959, I came out to play with other kids, but they were nowhere to be seen. I came back to my mother crying and telling her that everybody went to school except me. She asked me why not you go to school yourself. At this moment and for the first time in my life I felt that I have to take the matter in my own little hands. At age of six, I realized that I have to be the man of the family. I walked toward the Western School, which was designated during that same morning to grades three to nine. Pupils in the first and second grades need to go to the school in the middle of town.

Half-way walking toward the Western School, I saw a horde of children running toward me. I recognized the kids from my neighborhood and at that moment I realized that I am in the right place, which helped me gain some confidence, but could not figure out why they are running toward me. Without any further thoughts, I started running, but I was ahead of everybody. I could not figure out why I was running and for the first time in my life I thought of a strategy. I slowed down and let some of the kids pass me, then I followed them, because I thought those kids must have some instruction of where to go. We end up at the school in the middle of town and the first graders were sent to a single room on the east side of the school, which happened to be located under a large mulberry tree. It was a fantastic sight and for the first time I realized I can do things on my own. It was a great feeling.

Schools always start on the first day of September except when it is Friday. All children look forward to go to school. The air was full of excitement and anticipation to receive new books, pencils and notebooks. The smell of new books still resonates in my head. The PE class was our favorite, but the art class was the best. At the end of the day the students were dispersed among the vineyards and fig trees collecting juicy fruits. September is the best month of the year for us. We still do not have homework and no new poetry to memorize. The teachers, especially the new transfers, were so kind to us. The parents did not ask us to get any chores done; they left us alone to focus on our classes and study. The parents even bragged about how good, smart, and handsome their children were. To me September is the best month of the year with the best, happy, pleasant, and everlasting great memories. Whenever I feel withdrawn and depressed, I send myself back to remember September. These celestial memories left me up, nourish my spirit, and keep me going to live another day.

On the other hand, June is a month that no one look forward to live through. It is the end of school and parents were waiting for us like vultures. They want us to do everything around the house, if they were aware of child labor act, they would leave us alone. But no, we have to attend the animals, the fields, and help with harvesting the crops. We were to be blamed for anything goes wrong. In June we were the curse of the parents, eat too much, work too little, our feet are too large, and we were the reason of everything went wrong since god put Adam and Eve on Earth. As children, we did not feel good about ourselves in June. We started to believe that we are really little devils. All of this and many more happened to us in June.

In June we were sold to the thieves, pirates, and ugly baboons. We were sold for a Yagora per adult and the children were given free. In June the dome of the rock was relinquished, our bubble was busted, the land was handed on a silver platter without a fight, and the honor lost its banner. The wrath of the orphans and the grief of the widows will follow you down to your graves if you ever have one. Shame on you for busting our balloon in June. You fought ferocious battles on the radio, but nowhere to be seen on the plateau. For me, September is to remember, but in June you busted our balloon.

Omar Manasreh
2 June 2008