Does My Head Look Big in This? by Randa Abdel-Fattah

Instead they look at each other and then give me an ahem .
     
    I’m called to the office over the loudspeaker during Maths the next day. Everybody always gets the “are you in trouble?” look when that happens. Mr Loafer excuses me and five minutes later I’m sitting on the hard pine chair in Ms Walsh’s office, watching her squeeze her temples again.
    “I assume your parents have spoken to you?” she begins.
    “Yeah. Last night.”
    “I’ve decided to allow you to wear your veil.”
    “Yes, I know! Thanks, Ms Walsh.”
    “Now, I’ve decided on maroon. That will at least blend in with the rest of your uniform. Amal, I need to ask you, so that there are no further unexpected announcements, to please advise me whether this is the only religious symbol you intend to display.”
    For a moment I feel like I’m in a witness box and start to get a little annoyed by her cross-examination. But then I try to put myself in her high heels and think of it from her perspective.
    “Um, yes it is, Ms Walsh.”
    “ Ahem  . . . right. I’m glad that’s sorted out. I’ve put you down as an agenda item in tonight’s staff meeting so that your situation can be explained to the teachers. You have nothing to worry about. It will simply serve to allay their curiosity and also give them an opportunity to discuss how to deal with it.”
    “Deal with what?”
    “Amal, I hope you appreciate that this is something . . . rather novel. I respect your decision and your right to practise your faith, but you do look different now, dear. I don’t want you to interpret this incorrectly but I hope you realize that I am going out of my way to accommodate you. I’m sure that there are grammar schools in Australia which would forbid you from wearing the hijab because of strict uniform codes.”
    “Oh. I didn’t realize . . . I . . . um . . . appreciate your support, Ms Walsh.”
    “I know you do, Amal. I hope you also appreciate that I have to think of the broader scheme of things. Anything can happen in today’s climate. If the media get word of it, I’m sure they’ll be interested. McCleans Grammar School is one of Melbourne’s most prestigious institutions and it is renowned for its very strict discipline.”
    “Yeah, I know. . .”
    “Anyway, I’m sure there will be no problems. But I do need to advise you, Amal, that you are now under an even greater responsibility to represent this institution faithfully. With your veil, all eyes will be on you outside of school, so I trust you will not do our reputation any disservice. Understood, Amal?”
    “Yes.”
    “Very well. You may return to your class now. Have a good day.”
    “Thanks.”
    I don’t go back to my class straightaway. I go to the toilets and sit on a toilet seat, taking deep breaths.
    Breathe.
    I’m an agenda item? The media? What have I got myself into?
    Breathe.
    It’s OK. She seems to be on my side. She’s not as bad as I thought.
    Breathe.
    Except, seriously, what’s the deal with her and the word institution?
     
    It’s Wednesday. The only people who haven’t freaked out about my hijab have been Simone and Eileen. Oh, and Josh Goldberg. Josh’s Jewish. He’s got orthodox Jewish cousins but, from what I can tell, he’s a secular Jew. I don’t think my hijab’s really strange to him, though. Orthodox Jewish women also cover their hair and there are tons more things that are similar with our faiths. We kind of hit it off from my first week at McCleans.
    As for the rest of my class, it’s been two whole days since the start of term and there’s still an uncomfortable politeness between me and everybody else. Well, I wouldn’t call it politeness with Tia, Claire and Rita, who are still into their sniggering routine, which is fine. That I can handle. At least they’re acknowledging I exist. But everyone else is acting way too civil with me.
    When it comes to the guys, well, some of them are kind of acting almost scared of me. As