Narratives of Celebration Fall 2020

Middle school was a life experience for me. The experience of how tough it was going to
be to learn my wild native tongue yet alone the hardest experience in my life so far.
Remembering the time I sat in Ms Sarah’s Rose class and the class clown Jamal called me out in
my language “Naya waad fool xuntahyay” girl, you are ugly. As the words came out of his
mouth, it was like my whole body was electrocuted to a point I was in deep shock. Thinking
about how someone nothing like me could be just like me. As I sat there in confusion and anger.
With the question, How does a non-Somali know my language? Confused, why would someone
teach him our sacred tongue? Buy yet alone the bad parts of it. As I went home that day
confused on this experience but also the experience where my mom was called out, I had many
questions. As I walked up to my mom and asked, “can you teach me?” “Teach you what and
why” said my mom. “Because I feel like I don’t fit in”. As the tears ran down my glossy skin,
you could only imagine what my mom was thinking. Having Those words come out of my
mouth shook my mother’s ears. As I stood there crying out as if I just saw the notebook.
My mom did what any mother would do. As she stood in front of me in her black silky
scarf and dress, she hugged me tight and said, “You don’t need to fit in with others.” You should
fit in with yourself first. ‘’ Those words were the words that helped me become who I am today,
learning the fact that if you don’t love yourself first, no one will. This was the experience that
helped me gain strength and hope to learn my language. It helped me understand that my parents
were right that no matter who you are being proud of yourself first is the key to success.
Learning Somali was easy at first, It was like learning the ABC. In
my head I thought wow why didn’t mom and dad just teach us this a long
time ago. Starting off with the small phrases and small words, but it got
harder. The feeling of learning my native language was like sweet honey as
it’s poured out. Dripping constantly as I’m trying to taste it, but the words
just couldn’t seem to come out. I hated the experience where Hooya told me
to say hi to my grandma back home and as she was speaking to me and asked
how I was. I said, “waa finanda.” You're good instead of “waan fiicanahay.”
I’m good. Oh, how much I hated messing up. It’s crazy how I’ve been