
The year was 2004. I was teaching Special Education at a parochial school in Washington DC. I co taught students with mild learning disabilities in grades 5-8. The post 9/11 mood toward the Muslims was still very present in America. Moreover, I was the only Muslim teacher teaching at the Catholic School in its entire history. Looking back, I cannot really figure out as to why I was hired in the first place. The interview was done by the school principal and another senior teacher. Father Fernandez (name changed) of the parish sat through the interview as an observer. He was sitting on one side. During the hour long interview he did not speak a word. No one asked me about my religious affiliation. It is very possible that by my last name they knew I am of Islamic faith. Beyond that they had no clue about me, my background, or where I grew up etcetera. I also did not feel it was necessary to volunteer any information. I was hired for the job based on my experience in teaching. I was to start immediately, not in the upcoming school year in September. The post became available because the other teacher moved to another state.
The first few months went by smoothly. Because of my schooling in Bangladesh taught by the nuns, the Catholic school in DC did not feel like a place on Mars. I was quite comfortable there as I was familiar with the atmosphere created by the missionary nuns, in a place of learning. The teaching goes beyond math, science, and literature. In the DC school, they teach Christ’s core values: “Love, generosity, responsibility, self-discipline, and more.” The school was adjoined to the church.
Every Friday, the entire school went to the church for midday mass except me. The secretary would lock the front door from inside, and through the back door the entire school used to enter the church. I had access to the back door and could easily wait outside during the hour long mass. There were benches in the small courtyard. But I preferred to stay in either doing some grading, or reading the Washington Post that I took every morning with me on my way to the school.
In early November, one Friday afternoon, I was the only person in the basement room where the Special Education classroom was housed. On that Friday, there was pin drop silence all around me. It was eerily quiet. Until that day, I had no safety concerns. But on that particular day when everyone was attending mass something out of the ordinary had occurred. Suddenly, I heard footsteps upstairs. At first, it was slightly audible as the person was walking from the far end to the other end of the hallway. Gradually, the footsteps were getting clearer. I could not figure out if it was the sound of someone walking wearing high- heeled shoes or shoe heels made with plastic or wooden materials for tap dancing. At that point, I got somewhat startled, and got up and bolted the door from inside and stood by it. The footsteps had a repeated rhythmic cadence — back and forth, back and forth (walking). The upstairs walking abruptly stopped after about ten minutes.
At that moment I was thinking, was it Jesus walking upstairs?
Or was it a scare tactics to make me resign because of my religion? It was not irrational to think that way as Islamophobia was very much ongoing all across America. At the same time, I could not think of anyone at the school doing it. I was there five days a week, and I knew all the teachers, and staff members who worked there. They were mostly women except the school custodian. Or was it Jesus himself who was letting me know that he was right upstairs watching over me in an empty school?
Believing in the supernatural has no scientific validity. Logical reasoning is altogether a different phenomenon. In certain cases, one can vouch that something out of the ordinary (in this instance believing that Jesus was walking upstairs) had happened. I cannot just simply throw out the notion. After all, someone pacing in the hallway continued for about ten minutes. I was not daydreaming or hallucinating in the middle of the day.
I believe mysterious forces do exist, and it is not beyond the realm of a possibility. In an empty school building, when there was not a single person inside, except me, such a belief does not seem to be irrational. Attending mass was mandatory for everyone, and I was exempt because I am a practicing Muslim (with a secular outlook).
No one could enter the school through the backdoor except someone from the church as that door was connected to the church’s back entrance. My question is: Even if someone did enter the school building to skip mass, why would that person need to walk back and forth in the hallway instead of sitting quietly in the lounge?
As far as I know, the Bible does not guarantee that Jesus Christ can protect everyone from physical harm. In Islamic theology, Muslims do not worship Christ. But people of Islamic faith know Him asHazrat Isa. He was a prophet or messenger of Allah. In the Holy Qur’an Isa is mentioned as ‘Isa ibn Maryam,’ meaning ‘Jesus, son of Mary.’
I would not be the only person to think that some extraterrestrial life was present upstairs. As I write, I am also trying to solve the puzzle here. Supernatural beliefs have existed since the beginning of time in every corner of the earth throughout history. After all, the Christian society believes that Jesus Christ can perform miracles. Some force was there that November in that empty school. That afternoon, I clearly had sensed that someone was there upstairs to provide me comfort as I felt no fear. Only I was a little alarmed. I rest my case.
After that incident things were different. I did not stay back inside the school on Fridays. One Friday, my co teacher Caroline (name changed) persuaded me to come to mass with her. I was hesitant at first thinking how Father Fernandez would react. She assured me he will be busy delivering the homily and will not notice me sitting on the back pew. But surely he did when everyone kneeled on the floor except myself. (A Catholic priest does not kneel with the rest of the congregation in this case the entire school, during the Eucharistic Prayer). This episode was never discussed with me by the school authorities. Besides, it did not feel right as a church is not my place of worship. I go to a mosque when I feel the need.
Subsequently, I just went to the coffee shop across the school during Friday mass and sipped cold coffee.
Right before Christmas, I noticed the school principal’s attitude was changing toward me. She was not a very warmhearted person with anyone, aloof and seemed angry at the world. Every morning, she would stand by the front entrance to greet the students as they came in. The teachers had to reach about twenty minutes before. As soon as I would climb the stairs she would give me a cold stare while checking me out.
She would sometimes comment on my outfit saying things like “It seems like you blew your last paycheck on this sweater etc.” In reply I would say, “Do raise my salary as it has been three years, and I can buy more of these. I also loved the Venetian red one.” She never got the joke and continued to appear uncompromising. (She was that way with most people). Then in a few weeks, things no longer stayed within her snide comments as it became a little serious. One day she told me that one of the parents complained that I am very strict with her son in class. That took me by surprise. As I remember, that kid in grade VII used to chew on his shirt sleeve non-stop because of some anxiety disorder he had about coming to school. If anything, I was very sympathetic to his condition, and would try to divert his attention from chewing to the grammar book. That was causing him more stress, etc. was the complaint against me. It is the same student who gave me a “cashmere scarf” on my birthday a few weeks before. What changed? I had no clue.
From then on things progressed quickly. There was a seismic change in some peoples’ behavior toward me, not the teachers though. If Father Fernandez walked by me, he would simply nod and give me a curious look. Was it any form of discrimination? I still ask myself that question from time to time. The last straw for me came one Wednesday afternoon two weeks before Christmas. I had lunch room duty that day along with another teacher. We will just stand at the door as the kids eat their lunch. We were chatting in soft voices. Then I heard someone coming down from the side stairs. It was the principal with an open fat book coming toward me. She wanted me to go upstairs and Xerox 8-10 to pages from the Social Studies book for her next class. It was an odd request as her office is right next to the room where the copy machine is. I told her, “You took the trouble of coming down to ask me to do this for you? You could have easily done it yourself. As you can see I am on lunch duty now. If you do not want to do it, then ask the secretary. Nowhere in the hiring contract has it said that I need to copy things for others. I only copy materials if I need something for the students I am assigned to.” Her whole face became beet red, and without saying a word she went upstairs. The other teacher just gave me a nod of approval.
Right after lunch, I went into my classroom, and gathered my stuff, and bid farewell to my co teacher and left the school through the front door. On my way out, I looked back at the big white marble statue of Jesus Christ placed in the entryway. For a split second it seemed I saw His eyes moved, and I ran down the stairs, out into the street.
After that, I did not go back there. The school called to go and collect my paycheck. I asked them to mail it to me, which they did. A couple of days later, Father Fernandez personally called me to meet him so that we could discuss my sudden leaving from the school. Politely, I told him it is not up for discussion any longer as my mind is made up. I told him that I am not going to teach anymore. He did not press any further, and wanted me to come and join in the celebration at his annual Christmas Party. I remained silent. That is how my three-year old stint at the Washington DC parochial school ended.
Merry Christmas!
Zeenat Khan writes from Maryland, USA