So three people walk into my classroom.
The first is a man named Mohammed. He is from France.
The next is a French woman.
Then a man from Saudi Arabia comes in.
This is not a joke.
We learned English, and at one point I had to explain suffixes, such as the difference between verbs transformed to adjectives by adding "ed" or "ing" to the end. When I asked the students what they considered to be "fascinating," Mohammed replied that "Earth is fascinating." When I asked him to elaborate, he smiled and laughed at his difficulty in explaining such powerful yet immediate ideas in a foreign tongue. To paraphrase, he basically said something along the lines of, "We have food growing on the Earth that makes us live, and beautiful land and nature... and it all fits together somehow, and we don't know how it happens or where everything comes from, and it's beautiful." I am very happy to have him in class.
You might think it a large coincidence that I met someone named Mohammed, given everything in the news about Paris this past week. The truth is quite the opposite, actually. I teach English to people from everywhere on Earth, so meeting people with names associated with distant lands and customs is every day life in my world. On top of that, Mohammed is perhaps the most
popular male name on Earth. It should come as no surprise that the newest member of our class is the third student named Mohammed who I've taught in the past year. The other two were much younger, college age, and therefore less mature than the adult student in my new evening class.
One of the previous students named Mohammed was very lazy and didn't have a good attitude. I taught him in two separate classes, and he often slept on his desk. I think he was one of the least polite students I have ever had. He was not respectful to anyone. He talked when I talked, and he talked when other students talked. He rarely listened. I don't know if his life was hard and what his battles were, but he wasn't working with us.
Perhaps he is most memorable because he got into a fight with another student, who just happened to be from France, via Cote d'Ivoire. That's the only fight I've ever had to break up in class. Although, to be fair, I think the French student provoked him by laughing at his reading skills, and when the Saudi Arabian student supposedly replied with a racist comment (I didn't hear him), the French student stood up and threatened him. I, initially shocked at all of this behavior in an adult classroom, especially during the final week of a class for which I was substituting, wasn't sure exactly what to do once their respective friends had restrained them, without much effort, because neither of them really wanted a big fight, but they clearly had to have it out in front of everyone. I said who know what for a few seconds before telling everyone we were cutting to break time 30 minutes early. I thought that was the end of it, but then I heard the continued fighting in the hallway, so I had to restrain and then push the older one, the French student, onto the elevator as he derided the Saudi student for making racist remarks, and then made his opinions known with homophobic remarks.
I had to sit Mohammed down and ask him what had happened. He told me that the other student had made fun of him while reading. I had heard a snicker, but couldn't be sure that someone was actually being so rude in class. Then again, I think the French student had looked at me soon thereafter, perhaps expecting camaraderie, as he had done so several times before when Mohammed had been rude to everyone else. I would say his snicker at the reading was a response to the previous pattern of behavior, but he had also snickered at a girl from a completely different country earlier in the class.
All of that being said, Mohammed concluded his story by saying that he didn't have time for any of that [expletive] because he came to school to learn (which wasn't exactly true; he came to school to sleep on his desk and talk in Arabic while other people were speaking). While his friend smiled approvingly, I gave Mohammed a pep talk about "being the better man," that is, by not retaliating, thus showing that such petty squabbles and insults were beneath him. If someone makes fun of him, that's not right, but if he reacts by swearing and yelling in the classroom, it becomes everyone's problem, and we can't have that either. To each one's credit, they both returned to class and calmed down with a little help from their friends, and finished the class the next day.
The third student named Mohammed was from Yemen. He wasn't the best student, but when we were on the right topic, he was often right on the ball. More importantly, he had a great sense of humor, and he was always smiling, if not always at the appropriate time or for the appropriate reason. He really enjoys a certain American actress's body of work.
There you have it. The story of the three Mohammed's I've met in the classroom. I must say though, that while I'm interested in every student, I don't particularly care about their names. I remember their names, that is, their labels, but their labels aren't what tell me who they are. Their actions tell me who they are. Their smiles and laughs and eyes tell me who they are. And no matter who they are, they are each representing a unique aspect of Earth's personality. After all, I don't have to vouch for every Ben on Earth. That being said, a French man named Mohammed was a first. You might say the timing was fascinating.
As for the Saudi man, a doctor, who entered the class after the French woman (also a pleasure to have in class), he said that poetry is fascinating, and very important. He also wishes that his country would allow movie theaters so people could have more information. He smiles and winks a lot.
You know what I just realized? I think I made a mistake... yeah, I'm sorry. Hey, we all make mistakes, right? I apologize. I'm not always correct about everything. At least not always the first time. Now that I think more about things--which is a habit I try to develop as a means of joyful survival on Earth--I really think that the second Mohammed wasn't even named Mohammed. I think he was named Mohanned. Or was it really Mohammed? I really cannot remember... Ah well. As I said earlier, his label is not important to me. Besides, I promised you three Mohammed stories, and you'll get them.
I met a man given the name of one of many blessed peaceful rulers loved and honored in a variety of ways by humankind while teaching in the Bronx for several weeks in September 2014. He was from Yemen. He didn't understand everything I could teach him, but he smiled a lot, and asked many questions. That's as great a student as you could ask for when someone gives you the opportunity to teach something.
I must reiterate though, that although the names are fun, they're words, clues, signposts to help you find a variety of treasures beyond the surface, as beautiful and worthy of appreciation and fascination as anything else you might see, be and/or free. Look deeply!
What I care about in class is that we all team together for an enjoyable learning experience while flying through finite/infinite space with infinite/finite borders at unfathomable speeds as the sun sheds light on our shared story, that fascinating place we have labeled Earth
