رینبو (The Rainbow)

Rania’s inky hijab matched the rain cloud that loomed over her head the moment she entered her seventh-grade classroom. She made sure to always be the first to arrive, relishing her control of the desolation she’d chosen for herself before her classmates inevitably chose it for her. It had been seventeen days since the Twin Towers fell, and each one that passed left her with a feeling of irrevocable isolation. The attacks hadn’t been her fault, yet those who she once considered her acquaintances now shunned her. No more jokes, no more shared laughter. No more gossip, no more hushed whispers fluttering through the room like those of a butterfly’s wings. All that she had left was the shroud of black that enveloped her. That, and Ms. Montgomery. 

One might have imagined the storm she carried with her to be a figurative one, and she’d wished with all her being that it could be true. Perhaps then someone would take a seat beside her. Try as she might, she couldn’t wish it away, and the more she cursed it, the darker it became. The thunderous cloud above was as tangible as the hair on her head. And, surely, no one wanted to get too close to her in fear of being swept up in the raging tempest that held her hostage. Even if they had been her friends. Even if they’d always pinkie promised— Through thick and thin. 

Upon taking her seat in the back corner, Rania held her head low, only aware of her peers entering the room by the tepid shuffling of their feet. When their avoidance of her first began, she’d let her tears fall freely, pangs of rejection stinging her body. She yearned for the needless shame to pour from her eyes, for her friends to see that the inhumanity of the attacks hurt her just as they had them. But much to her dismay, her peers only saw the things that made her different from them—things they hadn’t ever seemed to notice before. Her darker, olive skin. The shine of the black chiffon she wore atop her head. Her birthplace, Kabul–one which she couldn’t even recollect, the entirety of her memories belonging to her home in New York City. The cloud that hung over her, growing larger everyday.

She wanted to shout, to beg and plead, “Please, see me again. Include me. Accept me.” But even on days during which she was bereft of any patience at all, she struggled to muster a sound, and instead she silently urged the earth to spin faster so that she could leave. Most of the time, the hands of the clock stood still, and the only thing that got her through the day was peering up to catch the benevolent, encouraging gaze of her teacher. 

Ms. Montgomery was beautiful in an ordinary way, donning no frills or extravagances. A new teacher only in her second year, she appeared young and vibrant. Though her attire was plain, the curls of her bright red hair cascading her shoulders and the glassy smoothness of her skin captivated Rania. She was a character in every sense of the word, always beginning class with an obscure, fun fact that had her students erupting with laughter before the first bell rang.

The dot in a lowercase j is called a tittle. Marcus, get your head out of the gutter— I don’t appreciate those gestures!

It’s impossible to lick your elbow. Go ahead, try!

When you lie, your nose gets warm. That’s right— from now on, I’m feeling your nose if you give me an excuse for late homework!

She had each student’s name memorized before the start of their first day, and by the middle of their first month, she also knew all of their birthdays and their favorite things and their strengths. Rania especially admired the sparkle in the blues of her teacher’s eyes as they grazed the room during her lessons. Had she ever felt a shred of disappointment in her pupils, she hadn’t shown it; instead, she looked upon them with an immeasurable sense of pride even in the moments they knew they didn’t deserve it.

Ms. Montgomery took a special interest in Rania, especially after the attacks on September 11th. Sometimes, Rania caught her teacher’s gaze upon the rain cloud that enfolded her, but with wonderment. Not disgust, not shame, not fear. It was for this reason that she avoided her teacher at all costs, outside of their eye contact from a distance. For Ms. Montgomery, with her lack of judgment and abundance of acceptance, was one who Rania wanted to taint the least. And though she knew her control of the rain that buzzed above her was limited, she wanted to spare her teacher the trouble of getting close to her. The glint in her eye, the warmth of her smile–that was enough for Rania.

Anxiety gripped her by the throat when one morning, as she crossed over the threshold, Ms. Montgomery asked her to stay after class to talk. Rania supposed she couldn't avoid her teacher forever, yet the idea of getting too close to her sent her spiraling.

That day, the clock drudged on even slower than days before, and curiosity got the better of her as she imagined why she’d been asked to stay late. Of all the likely scenarios she played in her mind, she knew with certainty that the trouble lay in her rain cloud, growing larger and more harrowing by the day. It didn’t feel possible that her trusted teacher would force her out of the class, but she also understood that she was just one miniscule part of a whole. If she served as nothing but an unwanted distraction, it made sense for her to leave. She kept a watchful eye on Ms. Montgomery for the entire lesson, hoping she could catch a hint telepathically, but her teacher gave nothing away. When at last, the final bell rang, Rania’s feet turned to boulders, and she remained stuck in her seat as her classmates bolted out the door. Unable to lift her gaze, she watched the pointed navy blue heels click across the floor.

“Rania, thank you so much for staying after today. I’m sure you’ve got plenty to do,” she said as she sat in the empty seat beside her.

Rania’s throat closed in response, so she looked at Ms. Montgomery and gave a genial nod. She smiled, but she could feel that it didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“I’m sorry if I startled you. You’ve done nothing wrong. I mostly wanted to make sure that you’re doing okay.”

This admission shocked Rania, and she blinked at her teacher before clearing her throat.

“I– I’m doing okay. Are you?” 

Ms. Montgomery flashed a bright grin. 

“You’re such a sweet girl, do you know that? So selfless. I’m doing just fine.” She paused, straightening her back and flicking a piece of hair behind her ear.  

“I was hoping to get your opinion on something. Given the current events, I was thinking of incorporating a little check-in at the beginning of each class. What do you think of that?” 

“I think that would be nice,” Rania replied. 

“I agree. And when you’re ready, if you ever feel ready, I would be honored if you shared your experience with the class. You’ve gone through a lot, Rania. I see how harshly they treat you. It’s unfair, and I want you to know that I support you, and I am here for you in any way that you need.”

Rania’s face grew wet with tears. She’d grown so accustomed to being ignored that her teacher’s kindness left her without words. Letting her eyes reach Ms. Montgomery’s, she allowed her lips to curl upward. Ms. Montgomery nodded.

“Now go on, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Rania stood, gathering her things, and made her way to the door. Just as she was about to exit, Ms. Montgomery called, halting her.

“And Rania?” 

She turned on her heels just before the threshold.

“Yes, Ms. Montgomery?”

“Your cloud is your superpower.” 

Rania tilted her head in puzzlement. Ms. Montgomery grinned.

“You will see. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But that cloud that follows you, the sadness that you feel, it will only make you stronger in time. Perhaps it'll even help someone else. Wear all that you are with pride. You may think that it scares those that care for you away, but I must assure you–your light shines brighter amongst it.”

—

The next day came, and a tired Rania sauntered into her classroom with a newfound confidence. She’d spent the night tossing and turning in her bed, dreams of sharing her tragedy with her friends wreaking havoc on her sleep. Somehow, she’d still woken up feeling rejuvenated—mostly thanks to her decision that she’d tell her story that day in class. She had enough of being needlessly blamed, of being misunderstood. And as her peers made their way into the room, she held her head up high, the rain cloud overhead raging. They all took their seats, and Ms. Montgomery divulged her plan for daily check-ins. Locking eyes with Rania, she asked if anyone had anything to share. Before she lost her courage, she scooted her chair back and stood up. 

“I’d like to,” she said, noting the surprise in her friends’ faces.

“Please do. The floor is yours,” Ms. Montgomery replied.

Before a word fell from her lips, Rania felt the mist grow in her eyes. She hadn’t spoken much about all she’d lost to many people—most didn’t know she’d lost anything at all.

“My father and sister were two of the thousands that lost their lives in the attack on 9/11.” 

Hushed gasps echoed through the room, and something about the way her classmates’ mouths hung agape caused the storm above her to grow in ferocity, this time in bravery in lieu of sadness.

“My mom, brother, and I have been doing our best to get through without them, but most days the pit in our lives is impossible to ignore. al-Qaeda took so much from me. They stole a part of my family, and they stole my friends, and all that I have left is shame. And it’s shame that I don’t even deserve. I am not evil just because of where I came from.” She paused, taken aback by her newfound outspokenness. Some of her friends had tears in their eyes, and most of the class shared a collective look of guilt as they heard her speak. Uncertain of what else to say, she looked to Ms. Montgomery for guidance.

“Thank you so much for sharing, Rania. You are very brave. Is there anyone else who’d like to share today?” She shot Rania a warm smile before turning to the rest of the class. 

Rania took her seat once more, her heart still pounding in her chest. In her peripheral vision, she noticed someone approaching her, but didn’t dare look up. Whoever it was wasn’t coming to her. She knew the danger in getting her hopes up. 

Except hope she should, because her fellow classmate, Margaret, pulled out the chair adjacent to her and sat down. Margaret didn’t say anything at first; rather, she waited patiently for Rania to look up from the floor. They made eye contact, and Margaret spoke.

“I lost my dad too.” 

“I’m very sorry.”

“Me too. Do you mind if I sit here with you? It feels less lonely being with someone who understands.”

A smile graced Rania’s lips as she nodded. 

“I’d like that very much,” she said.

They both turned their attention back to their teacher. Ms. Montgomery gave Rania an affectionate look before nodding toward her rain cloud. 

Rania looked overhead, instantly stunned by the myriad of colors that now gleamed there. She hardly heard Ms. Montgomery as she said, “Even the darkest of clouds eventually turn into rainbows.”