Fatima

Day 20
As I was waiting for Mik to get out of school, she came running to me just as she was confronted by this cruel girl named Shantelle. She said that I was a Zulu terrorist and that I was nothing. She also mocked Mik for her deafness. One of her friends offered me to help entertain the children at her niece’s birthday party. When Shantelle ordered her not to talk to me, she and all but two of Shantelle’s posse left. The girl whose niece had the birthday party left me her phone number. I am very worried for Mik, however, for Shantelle’s mannerisms at the time and a bulge in her pocket seem to suggest that she was carrying some form of a weapon.
Later, when I went to the VA hospital, I let Mik teach my class. She showed a packed room of fifty people: children, adults, and veterans (one of whom was catatonic), how to make paper figures of each other and of dolls. After an hour, these dolls were strolling along a model of a city street that Mik and I made from scrap materials. Afterward, the man who was in charge of the program seemed to be very downtrodden. It may have been something unrelated to the program, but it seemed as if he was very pessimistic about the program. I sincerely hope and believe that he is wrong.

Day 18
Some ignorant simple-minded people called me a terrorist today while I was on my way back from my failed attempt to visit the Statue of Liberty. Despite this, my opinion of this country is high, as most Americans are wonderful. Thankfully, Mik led me into a store when they came back, possibly to attack me. Mik asked for a job application there, although I got the impression that both she and the manager of the place knew that she would not be hired. I think that if I can obtain a green card, I may wish to work there. Later, when I declined an invitation to her apartment because of the police station directly across the street, Mik called me paranoid. That is very easy for one to say until one is an illegal immigrant themselves. I did, however agree to paint a mural of the Statue of Liberty, and to write Emma Lazarus’s poem which is on a plaque on Liberty’s pedestal. Despite having to paint over gang graffiti, Liberty looked beautiful with her ultraviolet wings I added as she looked upon the cityscape.

Day 8
Today I did volunteer work at the hospital for veterans. I taught students, most of whom were children taking a break from visiting their parents, about how to make paper designs. There was one veteran latecomer to the class, who almost left when one of the girls was shocked when she saw his bandages as he rolled in on his motorized wheelchair. Thankfully, I was able to persuade him to come back, and he even sat next to the shocked girl without incident. I was also very grateful that word had spread about my teaching. Yesterday I had only two students, whereas today I had a full house (which was admittedly only ten people). I hope that soon there are more chairs so that I can spread the artistic beauty that can be made with nothing more than a simple piece of paper. Afterward, I went with Mik to the store to purchase food. They have wonderful varieties of food at the supermarket there, and I was amazed when Mik told me that this store was nowhere near as good as most others. I am so happy to live in such a plentiful nation.

Day 4
I have just gotten directions to a man who is known for helping immigrants with connections to work and housing. I paid him five hundred dollars (which is a small price for what it is worth), and he gave me a job selling newspapers and directions to an inexpensive, but wonderful room. I cannot believe that the woman called such a wonderful place to live bare and dark. Another thing which I absolutely cannot comprehend is how the neighborhood I am in is considered rough here. If this neighborhood is considered rough by American standards, I can only imagine what magnificence the rest of this country has been blessed with. My only complaint is that I must be awake by 3:00 a.m., but again, that is a very small price to pay.