There he is: my son, beaming with enthusiasm on his inaugural day of middle school, standing at the bus stop at the end of our picturesque lane on a radiant morning in Vermont. His smile radiates self-assurance; he seems completely unfazed by the prospect of entering a new school without a familiar face in sight. Not a single flutter of anxiety appears in his demeanor, even though a butterfly briefly landed on his head.
What accounts for my son’s remarkable composure? The answer lies in his experiences from the previous year in the Middle East.
In the summer of 2014, my son Ethan and I were racing through the bustling streets of Abu Dhabi, on our way to his first day at the American International School of Abu Dhabi (AISA). The temperature soared to a scorching 120 degrees as we navigated the chaotic traffic. Ethan was contemplative, poised to step through the guarded gates of a prestigious institution that hosts students from over 80 countries.
As I hastily applied sunscreen on Ethan’s face and arms, I couldn’t shield him from everything. Once he entered the school, he would need to navigate this new environment independently. Would it foster a sense of global community, or would it mirror the regional tensions?
The reality turned out to be a mix of both. By the second day, Ethan discovered that being American didn’t always win him friends, even at an American school. A fellow student from Egypt challenged him, expressing hostility merely because of his nationality. This incident prompted Ethan to realize he needed to actively work to overcome any preconceived notions. He even requested that the vice principal refrain from punishing the boy who had threatened him.
As September rolled in, we transitioned to an apartment on Al Reem Island, and I embarked on a new role in communications at Khalifa University. Ethan faced a new routine of catching the bus at 6:25 a.m. for a lengthy commute. Together, we would often wait at the Boutik Mall, observing kids boarding their distinct yellow buses headed to various international schools.
Initially, I waved cheerfully as Ethan climbed onto bus No. 7 alongside a boy from Jordan. However, it struck me one day that the bus wasn’t labeled with “American International School.” Shortly thereafter, I received an alarming email from the U.S. Embassy, warning of a recent threat against American educators in the region.
My husband Liam, who leads the New York Film Academy in Abu Dhabi, and I weighed our options. While returning home might mitigate risks, it would also mean losing the opportunity to connect with diverse cultures. We chose to stay.
Tragically, on December 1, an American teacher was murdered in a nearby mall, a shocking event that sent ripples of fear through our community. Yet, the local government responded swiftly, assuring residents of their commitment to safety. Still, I continued to send Ethan off on bus No. 7 in the weeks that followed.
When Ethan turned 11 in the spring of 2015, we celebrated with a small gathering of friends from around the world, including his close friend Amir from Syria. I often pondered the challenges Amir’s family had faced to find security in this new land.
Despite the turmoil, we persevered and completed the school year. An invaluable ally during this period was Samir, a local driver I frequently relied on to transport Ethan after school events. I felt reassured knowing Ethan was in capable hands, and I owe immense gratitude to my friend Mia for introducing us.
On June 12, when we departed Abu Dhabi, Samir drove us to the airport. As we traveled through the city one last time, Ethan enthusiastically read Arabic signs aloud. Ultimately, it was the moment he stepped onto bus No. 21 bound for his American middle school in Vermont that confirmed our decision to spend a year in the Middle East was indeed the right one.
In conclusion, the experiences gained from living abroad provided Ethan with a unique perspective, preparing him for the diverse challenges of middle school. These formative moments instilled resilience, cultural awareness, and an appreciation for the complexities of human connections.
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