nine year old comes in mumbling about his broken christmas present
&how he hates his little brother &with eyes wide open he says
he wishes he were president like the orange guy he would
kick all the turks out no miss, actually i would kill them
all then they wouldn’t take our country again ill be the president when i grow up ill–
i stop him midsentece; honey, they’ve lived here too, this is their land too,
we share history&customs with them, we share an identity with them
no more talk of killings in the classroom.
so you want peace?
yes, of course i do!
whats in it for you?
the girl comes in and we practice the sounds of a&b&c.
i get a call while im having my morning coffee. stick to your language. you’re there to teach language. you’re young, you don’t know how it was, you were forced to flee your house, you never lost someone, how can you want this peace their trying to impose on us, can you imagine, going to the supermarket not knowing if the turk next to me was the one who killed my brother, stick to your language! my husband is an orphan because of the war.
so you wouldn’t have met.
had it not been for the war, you wouldn’t have met. you probably would have met someone else, and you probably would have children but surely not the ones you have now. so maybe its time that we forget what we’ve lost and see what we have achieved since then
silence, as in her response she has to choose love of the orange groves she grew up in over her children, arguing during dinner.