I was so scared, I was on my way to my first day of work as a teacher. I am from a, well, very upper middle class background and until I came to interview for this position at the last school I would have chosen to teach in I had probably never seen more than two or three Muslim people together in one place. It was embarrassing. I know it’s wrong. I can’t help it. I am very intimidated by large, surly, young, Muslim males.
I had always seen myself as a Completely in charge in a classroom full of respectful, well dressed, well behaved eight or nine year olds.
But I was about to start teaching in this loud, dirty, overcrowded school and they were all on me.
I was about to start teaching ninth and tenth grade English to a classroom full of rowdy Muslim teenagers that for the most part sneered at education and couldn’t care less about English. After all, they hardly spoke it!
After being married a year, My husband transfer to another city . Her come for 2-3 days every 4 – 5 month. I was a very attractive with a very sexy body and that I was only a few years older than they were. I hadn’t even been in the classroom with them yet, but I knew that they were going to sense my fear.
More than once as I struggled through the crowd, I felt a hand touching over my body. I had no idea how to react. I only knew that if I stopped and said anything that they would laugh in my face. I had to reach the door and get out of this mob.
I was so scared, and so upset that I had to fight desperately to hold back the tears.
If I could just survive one year in this prison-like school then I could apply for something else, anything else, anywhere else. I had to do this.
I wondered if I was the only Hindu person in this entire school. I had already met the principal and his assistant and they were both very nice gentlemen. They were Muslim. Everyone in the office was Muslim. All of the students that I had seen were Muslim.
I walked quickly through the empty hallway to my classroom. I had been coming in for a week now, getting it ready.
I stood in back of my desk and watched as the students in my first class came filing in. They were loud and rowdy and they were using horrible language, when I could understand them at all. They stared at me as if I was food and they hadn’t eaten in a week.
All in all it was a horrible experience. I constantly had to ask them to quiet down and sit down. Every statement, every answer, every question out of those boy’s mouths, , was some sort of double entendre, dripping with sexual meaning.
As the last class of the day was filing out of the room the principal came in to my classroom and asked how bad my first day had been.
The principal, Mr. Azam khan, gave me a little pep talk and then he left. My talk with Mr. Azam khan had held me up long enough that mine was one of the few cars left in the employee parking area.
As I walked across the nearly empty lot I was suddenly surrounded by a pack of large boys. They walked with me towards my car and I didn’t know what to do. They weren’t touching me or threatening me. They were not even talking among themselves but the silence was ominous. I glanced around nervously. Some of them looked familiar from my classes, but I can’t really say that I recognized them.
When we got to my car I waited to see what they were going to do. One of them(Javed), one of the largest of them, stood in front of me and smiled down at me. At first he was just one of the sea of Muslim faces I had been swimming in since I arrived here this morning. He didn’t say anything for a minute and then he said, “I bet you’ve never kissed a Muslim man, have you?”
I felt myself blush and I said, “Please get out of my way.”
Several of them laughed and the boy in reached out and his hand caressed my long black hair and then his finger tips traced my neck gently.
I shivered in terror and looked back up at his sneering face just as he said, “I asked you a question. Have you ever been kissed by a Muslim man?”
I said, “Let me go! Get out of my way!”
His hand moved to my shoulder and suddenly he pulled me against him and one of his hands went behind my head and he kissed me savagely.
I struggled to get away but he ignored me and I realized just how helpless I was. I finally stopped struggling and let him kiss me. As soon as I quit fighting him his tongue forced its way between my lips and I felt his hand slide down my back and grip my ass.
I screamed into his mouth, but he ignored that too. He kissed me for a long time and as we kissed he held me in place with his hand on my ass while his other hand began to explore my body. I started to use my hands then. I tried to hit him but it was like I was hitting a rock. I tried to push him away but when I did my arms were grabbed and held at my sides by another boy who was standing behind me.
Some of them were making crude comments, but most of them were just watching silently as I was kissed and groped by the large boy who was obviously the leader of this pack.
His suspicions had been correct of course. I had never kissed a Muslim boy or man.
The boy finally broke the kiss and backed away, still smirking at me. The look on his face just emphasized how helpless I was. I thought it was over when he took his hands off of me and stepped back. Before I could take a deep breath though, another of the group took his place and I had yet another boy sticking his tongue in my mouth and squeezing my ass and groping my breast.
I tried to pull away again, but again someone grabbed my arms and I was helpless. At first I had been afraid that I was going to be raped right here in the parking lot. Now I didn’t know what was going on. Was this some sort of initiation?! I was being groped and kissed passionately by each of the half dozen boys in the gang that had surrounded me.
What I found most disturbing though, was that the deep, passionate kisses had started to affect me! Don’t get me wrong. I was not about to start panting and cry out, “Take me, I’m yours!” But I found myself reacting.
As unbelievable as it sounds I was actually starting to feel….I don’t know. I wouldn’t say that I was aroused. I was feeling something though. I had never felt so helpless. It disturbed me when I realized that a large part of what I was reacting to was that feeling of helplessness. More than the kissing, more than the groping, I was dismayed to realize that the feeling of helplessness was exciting!
When the last of the boys, I finally counted, there were seven of them. When the last of them had had a turn kissing and feeling me up he let me go. The one who had been first(Javed), the largest of them, turned me to face him again and said, “Wasn’t that fun? See you tomorrow Mrs. Radha pandit.”
They all just turned and walked away then! I took a few deep breaths and leaned on my car and waited until I stopped shaking.
My eyes snapped open when I heard a tapping on my window. I saw the principal looking in with a concerned look on his face. When he saw me open my eyes he asked, “Are you alright Miss Radha?”
I nodded my head rapidly and then pulled myself together.
As I put my car in drive and slowly pulled away I asked myself why I had not reported what had happened to Mr. Azamkhan.
I made it to my apartment in an almost trance like state. I went into the bathroom and turned on the water in the shower.I took a long, hot shower . Then I think “Oh god! What would I do? How could I face them in my classes? What would I do tomorrow afternoon? Would they do that again? Would they go further?
I knew that I had to somehow become more assertive overnight. I could not quit that job. I could not go to my parents for help.
I went in and threw myself on my bed and lay on my back and stared at the ceiling until I fell into a nightmare filled sleep.
I woke up at next morning and I took a quick shower and got dressed. and then I grabbed my purse and drove back to that horrible school….. To be continued….