My World Seen by my Binoculars

My world is built by building blocks, hard red bricks organized one on top of the other, to cooperate and build the place where I wake up. One brick is my mom, the other is my dad. These two bricks are in the base, as my whole life is based on them, as well as several other bricks holding their bright red color and their solid qualities. Bricks such as my school, my community, my surroundings; and my friends make up my world; therefore creating my identity and building up my personality as well.
Before walking, and before speaking, I was an innocent infant, both my parents beside me. My mother holding me tight, kissing my forehead, and keeping me close; she saw me as a blessing from God. As I grew older, my mom still close, I learned to walk, I learned to speak, and I learned to make mistakes. My father was not as intimate as my mother but was as caring and proud. They were proud when I learned to walk, ignoring all the kids running more balanced than my slow steps. They were proud when I learned to speak, ignoring all the children speaking faster, clearer than me, and without hesitations. One could not help but love them, and become proud that she was lucky to have them as parents.
I was born into the world blind. I cannot see. What I see is a glimpse of light that I was not capable of enjoying until recently. I owe it all to my school. The school I went to gave me the hint of light that I can see, for they were the manual book to obtain knowledge. In it, I discovered that the random shapes and symbols actually mean something. They could be actually used to get thoughts and ideas onto papers. This is just one step, it seems simple, but to learn to read and write is life changing. Nowadays, most are literate, and here I am writing on a paper that should better show my individuality, while I am speaking of a common feature. Utilizing chances our school provides is the best policy; because as a Saudi girl, I cannot deny that we girls do not have that many opportunities (Many agree on this fact, including Peyman Pejman, who wrote an article about how traditions block Saudi women’s rights and many more). Our school was different, it compensated for the opportunities our society has not provided enough. One of the best opportunities I had exploited is participating in Model United Nations (MUN). Many see it as a chance to escape the bars of cells (also known as classrooms), and a chance to travel with friends during school days. To me, escaping school was my least interest, or should I say that it was what I most regret. What made it worth every possible “opportunity cost” (an economic term for the best alternative), is the skills that I cannot avoid developing: research skills, during preparation before the conference; formal writing skills, while writing draft resolutions for issues to be debated; social skills and team work, by cooperating with other participants during the conference; and debating skills, which was enhanced and improved progressively with each conference I attend. I could say more about clubs and activities I participated in, and I believe that I had come across many constructive experiences that improved my skills, but I will not elaborate; what I had done is past and what is still going to be with me when I go to college, or when I face life, is myself; my personality; my characteristics.
The deprivation I faced in my community pushed me to tame my blinded eyes to see the positive meanings in depressing, words, the beauty of flames in fires, the rainbow at the end of a rainy day, and the positive ions among chlorides and oxides. This way I could have a blissful life enjoying what I have, and make use of the chances I find, by being positive. When I auditioned to participate in the speech contest, I was very anxious after I did my impromptu speech, as if I had no chance. Later that day, they did not announce my name as one of the winners, maybe because I was negative and because what I expected it to turn out that way. I started believing in the law of attraction, and I listened to The Secret. Another chance came before my eyes; to participate in MUN. This time I had another attitude. I was confident before, during, and after I presented my speech in the auditions. I remember the night ahead of the day they announce the accepted students’ names. I wasn’t thinking whether I will be accepted or not, instead, I was wondering how I will tell my brother who studies in the U.S. about getting accepted in the most creative way. While they were announcing the names, I wasn’t eager to hear my name; I was waiting for it, not hoping for it. They may call what I did over-confidence, but as long as it works; I do not have to change my overly-positive attitude.
My friends, or should I call them family, for their support and constant help as if I was their long lost sister makes me feel that we have the same last names; they have been sisters to me, whom I never had. We are different, that is true. Thus, our differences made us complementary, each one of the group completes the other. We are pieces of a puzzle; we are most attractive and beautiful when we are together. In the end, we are one.
My home, school, and city are physically the world I live in. However, my home is just a huge vacuumed cement structure holding materialistic items: furniture and ornaments; my school is another building that has wooden desks and chairs, and several empty lifeless offices; and my city is an area where we find shops and buildings that made Dhahran be considered Singapore’s or New York’s nursery. What made my world meaningful to me are the beating hearts in it. My home is nothing without my family; neither are my school without teachers and friends, and my city without my community. They made my world the place where my personality is updated, as I face more and more events and experiences every day. It is one place that provides me with increasing challenges to deal with and learn from


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