Shebab after shebab congregated outside of my friend, Mary-Jo’s,
classroom. Longingly, I looked at some of the girls in the front of the class,
wishing they were mine. But with a sigh, I accepted my fate.
Shebab literally
means ‘the youth’ in Arabic. However, it can also refer to young Arab men.
Typically between the ages of 16-25, shebab could be considered similar to a
young male phenomenon going on across the world. In America, we call them
‘guys,’ college-aged men who do not put down the video-game controller, spend
too much time in the weight room, are free floating, drink rather often, and
generally lack ambition. In Great Britain and Australia, they are called
‘lads.’ In Italy, they are mama’s boys, bamboccioni
or mammoni. And in France, they
are fondly referred to as ‘Tanguys.’ Around the world, young men occupy this
limbo phase between boy and man, and I have got a class full of them.
It is one thing to be teaching a class full of guys; mixed
gender really helps in keeping order and focus. It is another thing to be
teaching a class full of guys your own age or older. It is also another thing to
teach a room full of Arab men as an American female. Thanks to Hollywood and
just general American promiscuity, my nationality and gender come with certain stereotypes
that are hard to break down.
So on that first day, as I led my class of shebabs down to
my room, I was nervous. Mary-Jo and I decided that we would split her class up
based on English ability, and I had offered to take the lower level of English.
Everyone registered for the course was supposed
to have an intermediate level of English. However, I quickly found that maybe
two of my students could utter a coherently structured English sentence. The
rest... well, they have some work to do. Although it is a professional
competency class, I will often spend a large portion of the class working on
English.
Today, I had my class work on speaking by asking them two
basic interview questions: what is your greatest strength and what is your
greatest weakness. I wrote the terms up on the board, had the students define
them, and then gave them all a few minutes to think. Everyone had to explain to
me why their strengths were useful, and how they overcome their weaknesses.
The best student went first, telling me that his “strength
point” was communication with people, and his weakness was speaking English. He
then said, “I am overcome weakness point by taking your class, miss.” Gold star
for Mohammad.
The shebab who sits in the corner, never does his homework,
and once told me that he “wanted to form a relationship with an American” went
next. His strength: being able to face problems head on and stay calm. His
weakness: getting frustrated easily. When I asked how he overcomes being
frustrated, he said, “Nothing! I do nothing! I just stop.” Slowly, slowly, I
tried to explain that this contradicted this his strength. “I do nothing,” he
reiterated, and I decided to move on.
Haitham came next. One of my favorites in the class, he
actually seems a little scared of me and thus, tries very hard to do things
correctly. Nonetheless, his English is some of the worst in the class. After
stumbling through his strength, I gave him an encouraging smile and asked what
his weakness was:
“Exams
scare I. I fear,” he mumbled into his paper.
“Okay.
So exams make you feel nervous?” I asked trying to clarify. He nodded, and I
tried to make his weakness more professional. “So sometimes in stressful
situations, you get nervous. Is that what you are trying to say?” He nodded
again, thinking that I had understood his weakness and would move on to a new
person.
“Can
you say it?” I asked. “Just repeat after me. Sometimes in stressful situations,
I get nervous.”
He
nodded.
I
tried again, “No, you say it.”
He
nodded once more, and someone leaned over to translate my words into Arabic.
“Just
say: sometimes in stressful situations, I get nervous,” I urged.
“Stressful
situations, I nervous.” Again, he sighed in relief, thinking he was off the
hook.
“Good.
Now, how do you overcome your weakness? What do you do to deal with being
nervous? How do you handle being scared?” I tried a couple of different
phrasings, hoping one would make sense.
He
turned to converse with his neighbor, who then turned to me and said, “Please
miss, he likes to go out. Um, he likes to go to park.”
“Oh,
oh. He likes to go take a walk in nature?”
Haitham
nodded.
“Okay,
so say: sometimes in stressful situations, I get nervous. When this happens, I
like to take a walk to calm down, and then I can handle the problem.”
He
nodded, agreeing that I had explained his weakness and method for overcoming it
well.
“No,
Haitham. I need you to say it. We all know I can speak English. It is important
for you not to just understand me, but to also say things yourself. Say:
sometimes in stressful situations, I get nervous. When this happens, I like to
take a walk to calm down, and then I can handle the problem. I know you can do
it,” I encouraged him again.
“Please
Miss Hilary. This is a stressful
situation.” Finally, Haitham said a full sentence.
