If You Scratch the Glass
1980s to 2006, Amman, Jordan and Rockville, Maryland
By Natasha Tynes
My husband and I moved to the Unites States from Amman, Jordan, a year and a half ago. During this period I had to adjust to a myriad of lifestyle changes. Whether it was learning how to use the garbage disposal, handle a furnace, or even attempt to catch a glimpse of the American dream, my life in the past 18 months has been overwhelming and hectic at most times.
But of all the pieces of Americana that I try to acquaint myself with on a daily basis, there is one that never ceases to dazzle me. It is the American high school.
We currently live in the suburbs of Washington, DC, right next to a buzzing high school. This location has its perks, one being the serenity of the suburbs and affordable rent. But living next to a school can be tiresome, as it brings into our quaint neighborhood at some instances a good share of noise. From weekend concerts to high school football games, the serenity of our suburbs gets shattered as a result of this constant teenage activity.
Putting the inconvenience aside, I have to admit that our location near an educational edifice has introduced me to a new realm: the world of American high school kids. It is a world that I had previously watched in awe from my parent’s house in Amman via American movies. Of course, being so close to a high school doesn’t really give me a full access to the mysterious life inside this building.
I am merely a voyeur. I observe from afar as kids march half asleep to school in the mornings and drag themselves back home in the afternoons. In some instances, I would stop whatever I was doing in my apartment, walk to the porch, and watch well-built lads practice football — a form of sport that still remains foreign to me. In other instances, I would halt my daily walk around the block and approach the school’s entrance to marvel at the young students during their marching band practice.
For a while, I discovered a new thing about high schools in the United Sates almost daily. The first discovery was the lack of a school uniform. For someone who went to a strict Catholic high school, seeing students go to school wearing faded blue jeans and worn out T-shits with iPods in their ears was a scene so unusual to me that I quickly classified it as culture shock.
When I was a student, I never dared challenge the uniform rules put forward by the nuns who ran my high school in Amman. Wearing, for example, dotted socks to school instead of the requisite all-white was considered a serious violation in those days. Those who dared to rebel would get the message loud and clear. The outcome of their rebellion would usually come in the form of a physical punishment: a slap on the cheek or a pull of the ear. I never challenged the uniform rules. The nuns made it very clear to me. I knew better.
Another American high school shocker to me is the commute to school. It took me a while to figure out that students can actually drive themselves to their school in their own cars, a concept as alien to me as fried pickles (a delicacy I savored during a road trip in Gadsden, Alabama).
I had to get confirmation on this from my husband, a native of Virginia, to make sure that what I was seeing was not a figment of my active imagination.
“Do they actually drive themselves to school?” I asked him one morning as we drove past the school.
“Oh, yeah! I drove myself to high school back in the days,” he told me smiling.
“Geez. I thought this only happens in the movies,” I said, throwing my hands in the air.
Public displays of intimacy are probably the most shocking of all. I see students walking to school with their arms around their significant others. I see others holding hands or exchanging pecks, right in front of the watchful eyes of teachers, parents, and other students.
The high school I attended almost two decades ago was an all-girl establishment. Surrounding the school was a mammoth concrete wall. Boys were strictly forbidden. The nuns would throw a fuss if they caught us chatting with boys from the neighboring school after hours. Those who were seen with boys were called to the headmistress’ office. Life was no longer the same for anyone who was called to the headmistress’ office.
“A woman’s reputation is like a sheet of glass,” the nuns used to tell us. “If you scratch the glass, the mark will stay there forever. It can never be repaired.” With that thought in mind, approaching boys to the eyes and ears of watching nuns was something I decided to put off for a while. Studying came first. Boys came last, or never at all.
I had been quietly digesting these high school observations on my own until I finally cracked. “I can’t believe you used to complain about going to school! Do you call this school? It is a social club,” I told my husband one day.
My argument was simple: Schools back home were somehow better. “Look at me,” I told him. “I turned out pretty decent and it is all because I was educated out of fear.” I went on and on about the lack of discipline at American high schools. I complained about the dress-as-you-like attitude and the open, intimate relations between students of the opposite sex. “Do you have any idea how spoiled you were? You were being entertained all day long.”
My outburst did not stop here. I kept arguing about how schools here lack the strict upbringing students need to make it in life and how I am extremely worried for the future of our unborn children. My husband simply brushed away my concerns and laughed.
I guess he could easily detect the jealousy in my voice.
Natasha Tynes is a journalist based in the Washington, DC, metro area with more than eight years of experience. Her work has been published by a number of media organizations across the Middle East, including The Jordan Times and the English website of Al Jazeera.
Posted by Elizabeth Armstrong Moore on Tuesday, February 6th, 2007 | Email This PostThis entry was posted on Tuesday, February 6th, 2007 at 12:02 am. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
10 Responses to “If You Scratch the Glass”
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February 7th, 2007 at 10:34 am
I liked this essay very much. It’s a pleasant look at similarities and differences between cultures.
February 9th, 2007 at 12:32 am
Thanks, Natasha! It is a privilege to see my home culture from your eyes, now that my kids are being raised in yours!
What would be great, is for these high school kids to see a glimpse of life outside the bubble of their school culture through you.
Common ties…I’d love to see more by Natasha, she’s a jewel with a multi-faceted perspective.
February 9th, 2007 at 9:36 am
I enjoyed reading your article, I am proud of you…
Your Mom
February 10th, 2007 at 5:35 am
I don’t know about that. Having the privilege of being under the supervision of “Nuns” as you call them since I was a toddler, I can hardly imagine it as the prison you so eloquently described. We weren’t slapped or yanked around. We were disciplined. A rare commodity nowadays.. I think Rosary College is, was and will remain a great school. Had I been given the choice, I’d surely pick a Jordanian and “Nuns” school over an American High School.. At least I know my kids won’t get shot in Rosary College!
Anyway, glad you’re putting your porch into use ~:o)
SouS
February 15th, 2007 at 4:14 am
very interesting post and pleasant to read I have a similar story when I was 17 years old visited Washington DC for the first time and I went to school there with my cousins it was a real culture shock to me coming from the middle east and studying in only boys public school , I wish if I have the ability to write like you do, it was a real shock to me but I know i don’t have the know how to express it in writing.
February 16th, 2007 at 2:32 pm
Natasha,
Fabulous article. Americans love to read an outsiders opinion of the US. It’s always refreshing to see things that seem so normal to us in a different light.
Katie
July 5th, 2007 at 4:58 pm
Natasha,
\”Fried Pickles\” You are indeed an astute quick study. It has taken me (a big -haired Dallas girl) many years to translate all the lessons I learned from living in another culture (see Ambassador Barbie).
We moved back to the states before Whitney and Hunter were of driving age. They rode the American School Bus to middle school, but it never quite measured up to the international experience in Al Khobar, Saudi Arabia.
While they love their cars, I think they would trade that in a heart-beat to ride with Surrinder (the Indian bus driver, we all entrusted our children to).
I find it very telling that we have a very similar culture shock experience, acclimate ourselves to our new environments, then go through the entire process in reverse when we return to our home country.
I\’m sure that many \”Americans\” would be surprised to know that Catholic School exists in Jordan, and elsewhere in the Middle East. We Americans have a preconception of the Middle East as an exclusively Muslim domain
My only hope is that those of us with multi-cultural experience will become the norm. \”And the World Will Live as One\”.
October 21st, 2007 at 12:45 am
This is true, I agree!
I’m 16 and I go to Rosary College, Shmeisani (i guess this is where you went to school because Marj el-Hamam was not yet established)
The school is strict and most of us are quite disciplined! but you really shouldn’t wear eye-liner, lipgloss or whatever to school! you won’t get slapped on the cheek, but a teacher will probably say: what’s that on your lips/eyes?!
you also shouldn’t wear nailpolish (not even clear nailpolish) or have long nails!
Dare to wear tennis shoes when you don’t have PE on that specific day! one of the secretaries will call a parent to drop your regular black shoes that you should’ve wore! =)
No monkey business! SERIOUSLY!!
You will get slapped on the cheek if you are rude and raise your voice while talking to the nun! *never been slapped!*
those are the few rules of our school!
the curriculum is really good though! All students must learn English, French and Arabic. I personally think Arabic is the toughest! but the idea of learning three languages is good, i think, because most Jordanians only speak Arabic and English!
I’ve been to many states in the US, Washington DC was the best i guess, or Florida i can’t quite decide yet! where you live is truly beautiful! i thought it was weird when you said it’s noisy because i remember that Rockville was quiet! but then there’s a high school right next to you!
I enjoyed reading your blog!
Wish you all the best!
October 21st, 2007 at 12:57 am
I forgot to write something in that comment but i just wanted to inform you that we STILL get the: if glass is broken it will never be repaired, that you got! =)
there is another saying they always tell us! I just forgot it!
i\’ll make sure i post it when i remember it or the next time they say it!
take good care!
August 16th, 2008 at 5:54 pm
A very well written article that brought back fond and dear memories of Rosary College in Shmeisany, Jordan . . . the playground recesses, the beautiful rose garden that was surrounded by the convent buildings, helping the sisters with the laundry (my way out of playing basketball), the endless rows of uniformed girls entering the school buildings, the boys from the neighboring Orthodox School boys who daily gathered outside the outside wall tring to chat with the girls but being shooed away by the ever vigilant nuns . And earlier, in elementary school, I vividly remember the body -guards breathlessly running after the very-lively twins, Royal Princesses Zain and Aisha, who were in kindergarten or the first grade at the time.
And yes, the lesson about the scratched glass was well ingrained in me (graduate of 1979) and I have adhered to it ever since. Looking back on those teenage years, I am grateful for the peace of mind we had and the freedom from all the troubles I now see junior high and high school students in the US encounter. Someone wrote that the Rosay College schools remain to be strong and good. So right. God bless the Rosary Sisters of Jordan!