...because I was low

There have been times where I have wondered what kind of kick people get out of doing drugs. I mean, I understand that it makes them feel better for a little while - they escape their reality, and can trip for a while. But actually how fun is it to be high? How enjoyable is it to live in a delusion? The only way I feel I can remotely relate to being high (besides being so on life, which is really nice, and not really in the same category as the drug version) is being low, which is NO FUN AT ALL.

When I say I'm low I'm talking about not just feeling low, but really being low, in that my blood glucose is below normal levels and I cannot function properly. I'm writing this right now because an hour ago I got back from my internship and was about to pass out in my living room before my mom realized and stuffed my face with every sweet thing she could find. All the while, she reprimanded me for not taking advantage of all of the facilities provided for people like me (i.e. checking my blood glucose level every couple of hours, eating a snack, etc), as well as conjuring up various scenarios in which I'm found passed out from hypoglycemia on a New York City sidewalk, and a crazy, strange man (half of New York's population, according to my mom) does whatever he wants with me. Scenario 2: In my delusional low-blood sugar state of mind, I cross the street in the middle of on-coming traffic, completely unaware of my imminent death. Astaghfirullah, I'm not writing these to amuse myself - when I think about it, I actually do get scared, because I know that when I am low, these frightening situations are possible.

But at the same time, I am angry with my mother - does she think I enjoy being low? That I do it on purpose? That I like tripping, and later, when I regain normal blood glucose, I can't remember what happened? Honestly, I feel like I know what it must be like to be drunk or high, because when I'm low, everything goes slower, everything's a little fuzzy and blurry. But it's not pleasant at all - inside there's a feeling of nervousness, like the brain just knows this isn't right. Sometimes I begin to see double (Last year, when Chinese calligrapher Hajji Noor came to NYU for an event on his art, I had to abruptly leave because I was seeing four of him, and I thought I was going blind. I devoured a brownie later, but only Allah got me home safely) There's that hollow-pit-in-your-stomach feeling that you sometimes get when you're anxious, and you start repeating yourself, and yelling. As much as I recall of how terrible it feels to be low, what really freaks me out is when people who are around me at the time tell me how strange I was acting. And when I try to remember what they're talking about....I can't! That's what frustrates me most - trying to remember, and only managing to find bits and pieces of what feels like a dream.

When I shudder at these recollections of being low, my mind yells, how do people LIKE doing drugs or drinking until they pass out? How do they tolerate that lack of consciousness and alertness? Today, before my mom realized I was low, I was sitting at the dining table trying to read the mail (junk mail from some random bank selling a credit card, to be exact) and I was CONSCIOUS of being low - I kept trying to read the name of the bank, but couldn't and I thought, Aqsa Aqsa, you can do it, come on, snap out of it - you're not functioning right now...Come on! I felt like...I was drowning, and I wasn't sure if everything would be okay again.

I know this post is rather depressing, but I needed to write my thoughts down about being low - and to anybody out there who reads this who does drugs/drinks voluntarily - just think about what you're doing yourself - and as applicable as my mother's scenarios are to me when I'm low, they are just as applicable to you when you're drunk and high, except that YOU put yourself there. Please, please don't do that to yourself. It is NOT worth it.

Priceless

"What I won’t do is go to some place and try to get a cease-fire that I know isn’t going to last."
CONDOLEEZZA RICE, the secretary of state, on the fighting in Lebanon.

Excuse me, Ms. Rice, but would or would not a cease-fire prevent further deaths? Even if a cease-fire didn't last as long as you hoped it would, would it not save the lives of many humans in the meantime? Yes, it would. Even if it saved just three people (even one day's ceasefire would save hundreds of lives) - a toddler's mother, or a couple's only son, or a newlywed's husband, it would save tragedy from afflicting people. But that's just so not worth going anywhere is it?
I mean, heck, I'm just Secretary of State of the most powerful nation, but why should I fly anywhere and ask for the aggression to stop? My loved ones aren't in harm's way. My home has not been bombed - I don't see dead people I once knew as neighbors. So why should I go to some place, because the cease-fire just might save some lives for some time? Psshh.....

God, please help the oppressed, and stop the oppressors. Ameen.

As long as we've got each other

Siiiiiigggghhhh...........

I got back from my internship a couple of hours ago. No, I'm not working as an assistant or observer of a surgeon, lawyer, engineer, investment banker, or assets manager. No no no, my friends. My internship, in some people's eyes would not be considered an internship, and even I question the validity of that title. However, there is no doubt that this summer I am learning A LOT about what teaching in the heart of New York City is all about. So far my student teaching experiences through NYU sent me to elementary schools in Manhattan and Brooklyn (the gentrified areas) and the children, while having issues of their own, were for the most part at no disadvantage in terms of socioeconomics. Just my luck that the Department of Ed decided to send me to Nowhere, aka somewhere in between Flatbush and Midwood, Brooklyn. My teaching experience is all the more intensified by the fact that I'm working with kids who were in the 6th grade last year, but failed to learn much of anything of the curriculum, and are spending their summer in a big stinky building trying to learn everything they didn't in five weeks.

If there's anything in this world that is absolutely positively untrue, it is the statement that some stupid people make, saying, "Oh, teaching is easy!" Actually, you crackpots of the Earth, if you knew anything about anything, you would believe it is not. And if you were working as a teacher at IS 240, school to almost 2000 pubescent, rebellious, bored-out-of-their-mind students, you would KNOW that teaching is never easy. Even so called "teachers" who are indifferent when it comes to their students' future and education, who read out of the textbook and call it a day, have a tough time teaching, because at some point, their students' boredom and resulting misbehavior wears them down.

Even though I hold much contempt for people in the education field who don't care one way or another about their kids, after teaching at IS 240 for the past two weeks, part of me has an found an inkling of empathy for these teachers. If I were a real first-year teacher at IS 240 with minimum support from the administration and faculty, I can honestly say that there is a good chance I would burn out within the first month and take an attitude of indifference toward my students. This is a REAL tragedy. These kids need so much help, but the adults around them give up on them. While some of the kids are real pains in the rear end (who am I kidding? they feed off each other, and sometimes the whole class becomes a sore), many of them are smart, beautiful kids who have soooo much potential, sooo much (shout out to my set of stars: Kadeem, Akil, Jomara: so much love and admiration -- because it's tough being good where they come from.)

In the end, one of the most important things I've learned is that there is nothing like keeping your cool in front of your kids. If you blow up all the time in front of them, you tend to acheive nothing. Perfect example: my cooperating teacher, Mr. Rios -- but I'll talk about him next time, because it's 1 am and I have to be outta the house by 7:30.

Peace in the Middle East pleeeeeease God.