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Rated: E · Short Story · Cultural · #1027955
A young girl receives an education in the thinking of those around her.
Najet
© 2005, Jamil Ragland. All rights reserved.


“Janet? Is Janet here?” the teacher called out to the class. Janet ground her teeth, bearing the humiliation as best she could. “Janet Nureshka?”

That insult was too much to bear. “Here,” she finally answered. “But it’s Janet Khan-Nureshka.”

“Thank you, but I’ll only need to use your last name Janet.”

“Khan-Nureshka is my last name. In my country, it’s tradition to-”

“Ryan? Ryan O’Connor?” The teacher had already moved on to the next name. Janet’s gaze was filled with venom, burning into her English teacher’s back. How dare he ignore me! How dare he!

“Calm, down, it’s allright,” someone near her reached out to touch her arm. Janet jumped a little, and looked back to see a young man with crystal blue eyes looking back at her. Back home, people with blue eyes were rare, so she stared for a moment. The boy took it as a positive sign and smiled at her. “Our teacher can be a jerk sometimes, but he means well.”

Janet nodded a little, pulling her arm closer to herself. “Thank you. But in the future, I would ask that you don’t touch me. It‘s not appropriate for a male to touch me,” she said. The boy’s smile faded quickly, and he sat back in his seat. She turned around and faced the board again.

Class continued uneventfully for a while. Janet stared out the window, sighing a little. Across the street from the school was a McDonalds. There had been a steady stream of customers all morning, and it was lunch time now. Traffic had really picked up. Such places existed in her home country, but they were rare and far in between. It had been said in her home country that Americans were lazy, and would prefer to have someone else do for them if given the chance. The lines in the McDonalds seemed to confirm that statement.

“…there were three new countries formed in central Europe after the end of World War I. The Austro-Hungarian empire was split into Austria and Hungary, and the collapse if the Ottoman Empire allowed the country of Rivelya to regain is independence from Turkey. Janet’s ears perked up, and she began paying attention. History had always been one of her favorite subjects, especially European history. And now they were even talking about her country! Let’s see what lies these Americans are telling their children, she thought as she began taking notes.

“Rivelya has existed for thousands of years, dating back to the time of the Crusades. Then, Persians, mostly women, left the Middle East to form a new state in southwest Europe. What makes Rivelya truly remarkable is that it was the only state in all of Europe and Asia that was lead by and dominated by women. The first leader was known as Queen Najet-Juran, or ‘Daughter of God’”.

Janet beamed with pride as the teacher continued to go over her countries’ proud history. Queen Najet had been once of the most powerful rulers in the Mediterranean world during her time, and Rivelya had enjoyed much success and prosperity up until it was conquered by the Ottomans. Still, there proud traditions and customs had survived. Even when the conquerors tried to force their backwards version of male-dominated religion on Rivelya, they resisted. So while Rivelya was technically a conquered province of the Ottoman Empire, for all practical purposes it remained self governed and self contained.

“Many traditions from ancient Rivelya still live on today. If you’ve done the reading, then you know some of them. Can anyone tell me one?”

The blue eyed boy raised his hand into the air. “They still name all of their daughters Najet!” The class laughed loudly at his fact. Even the teacher chuckled a little. Janet didn’t see what was so funny about that.

“Not all the women in Rivelya are named Najet, but it is a pretty substantial number. The name Najet there is as common as the name Peter or David here,” the teacher explained. “Family names are very important in Rivelya. It’s not uncommon to meet a person with four, five or even six names.”

“That’s stupid. Why do you need so many names?” a girl whispered in the back.

“Probably so that they can tell between all those Najet’s,” someone else said.

“That’s just as stupid,” the same girl said.

“What’s so stupid about it?” Janet snapped loudly. Everyone in the class turned to see what the commotion was about.

“Don’t you think that’s dumb? Five names and they all start with Najet? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Janet could feel the anger growing inside her. She reached back and pushed her straight, dark brown hair back behind her ears. That was a ritual she always did before she went into combat. She knew that this was going to be a real battle.

“My name is Najet Anari Khan-Nureshka. It’s not Janet, it’s not Janet Nureshka. Najet, Anari, Khan, Nureshka,” she said it slowly. “Every one of my names means something. Najet means daughter of, Anari means flower, Khan is my father’s original last name and Nureshka is my mother’s last name. There’s nothing stupid about that. What’s stupid is you American women and your willingness to give up your family name and its history when you choose to get married.”

“If your name is Najet, why does everyone call you Janet?” a green-eyed girl asked her. Janet sighed a little. She’d completely missed the point of what she’d explained. Janet was beginning to associate those bright colored eyes with stupidity.

“My parents changed my name when I came here to make it easier for me, so that you wouldn’t think that I’m a terrorist or something when you heard my name.”

“Are you a terrorist?”

“Why does the woman’s last name go last instead of the man’s?”

“Are you really from Rivelya?”

“You look Italian! Are you sure you’re not Italian?”

The questions came at a rapid fire pace. The teacher couldn’t calm the kids down, and eventually he stopped trying. Janet heard some good questions, but every time she tried to answer it she was assaulted by five stupid questions. It was quickly trying her patience, but she found a strange sense of satisfaction in their curiosity. Finally, she wasn’t the one who didn’t understand the way things worked. She was the one with all the answers for a change, and she liked it.

“Why did we go to war with you?” the blue eyed boy asked. Janet looked at him again, and took special care to address his question.

“Because you Americans fear what you don’t understand, and you can’t understand how a society run by females could be better than yours. So you accuse us of human rights issues and nuclear proliferation violations and other nonsense. Just a bunch of trumped up charges to justify the largest land invasion in Europe since World War II. By the way, we repelled your attempt at conquering us. How do you like that?” she asked triumphantly.

The blue eyed boy shrugged. “I don’t know. I think was is stupid.”

“Hmph, that sounds like something the loser would say,” Janet replied. As she looked at the boy again, she could see that he was genuine in his feelings. She regretted her earlier rudeness to him, but she would never give him the satisfaction of hearing her apologize.

“Allright, Janet, you’ve had your time in the spotlight. Time to get back to class.” the teacher said. The rest of the class turned back in their seats, but Janet continued to face the back of the room. “Janet? Turn around please.”

“I told you already, that’s not my name. I answered you before because you didn’t know any better, but now you do. My name is not Janet.”

“Come on, don’t be stubborn. Just turn around in your seat so that we can continue class.”

“I won’t respond to anything but my name,” she said softly.

The teacher put his book down on one of the desks, and walked around to face her. Janet watched as his disgusting beer gut rolled from side to side, but said nothing. It was just another sign of American laziness to her.

“Listen. You’re not in Rivelya anymore, allright? The Queen is not going to give you special permission to do whatever you want just because you’re a female. Your not a princess, you’re a student, do you understand? I may be a man, but in this country, I have the power because I am the teacher of this classroom. It doesn’t matter if I’m a man or a woman, black or white, or whatever. I am the teacher, and you will do as you’re told. You’re not going to get any special treatment just because you’re new or the foreign girl.”

Janet’s head snapped up, fury burning in her hazel eyes. “I don’t want special treatment, damn it! I want you to respect me the same way you respect anyone else in this classroom! Or should I say, anyone who was born here in this classroom! I don’t want you to treat me better or cater to me. But I DO want you to respect my traditions! Where I come from, we use all four names. Where I come from, Najet is a beautiful and accepted name, not the name of some suicide bomber! And you will call me my proper name, or I will not answer you!”

“Do you see this?” the teacher said, shaking the attendance sheet in her face. “Do you see it? It says Janet Nureshka. In this school, in this classroom, you are Janet Nureshka! You can be whoever you want after the final bell, but here you are Janet!” he yelled.

Janet stared him straight in the eyes. “Then maybe I should be out there,” she said.

“What? Wait…wait a second! Where the hell do you think you’re going!” the teacher said in a rage as Janet packed up her things and headed for the door.

“Somewhere where I can be Najet.” As she opened the door, she could see the looks of bewilderment and disbelief on the other student’s faces. On the face of the blue-eyed boy though, she saw a little bit of concern. Janet studied his expression for a moment, then walked out of the classroom, slamming the door with a loud bang.
© Copyright 2005 Jamil Ragland (rags at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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