I study Arabic at a language center in Fes, a place where many Fassis also learn English. It’s a pretty small space: basically a large house with a courtyard. I love sitting outside watching all of the different people. It’s a special kind of fun. Case in point:
I came out of class yesterday for my break (20 minutes every 4 hours!) and joined a small group of English-speaking American and British students (at the center to study Arabic) talking with a Moroccan student (there to study English). It took me a while to realize a conversation was taking place; it took me longer to realize that the conversation was more animated than others. I’d been in class for 2 hours; my brain was tired and slow and sluggish.
Evidently the Moroccan student – a guy of about 16 years – was wearing a tshirt with a particularly eye-catching slogan written in English. I’ve been keeping a log of shirts with funny things written on them in English, things that make me wonder – and really really really hope – that their owners don’t really understand what they say. One, for instance, said “Saturday night beaver;” the guy wearing it was also about 16. I once passed a teenage girl wearing a tshirt that said “open all night”. Now, it also had a picture of a diner on it, so I get where the slogan was going, but still… And I encountered a pair of women’s pajamas – bright pink and blue with pretty little flowers – that said “pocket full of love.”
So this guy at the center was wearing a shirt that said, and I kid you not, “nice legs” across the top in big red letters. Just below it was the tag line: “what time do they open?” Evidently by the time I got there the small group of American and British students had given him such shit for the shirt that he zipped up the jacket he was wearing. I took this as a sign that I should stay out of it, and I did.
Until I saw him about 2 minutes later on the other side of the courtyard with his jacket unzipped. And those of you who know me know what happened next…
I walked up to him and, as calmly as I could, said, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m horribly offended by your shirt. It’s one of the most violent things I’ve seen in a long time.”
He took it as any 16 year old wearing something like this would: he smirked and responded with a few quips; he ended the conversation with the audacity to ask if I wanted to be language partners. Fortunately at that point my break was over and I had to make my way back to class.
Not cool dude! Not cool at all!
I know that some people use tshirts for their shock value. Perhaps that’s what some say about my “this is what a feminist looks like” tshirt. And I applaud rebellion, be it youthful or not. And yet.
This simply wasn’t ok. Language – words – can and often are terribly violent. Do you have a sister?, I asked him. He does. What would you think about someone saying this to her? This actually got him to think for a few seconds, at which time he admitted that he wouldn’t much like it. Well, I concluded, if you wouldn’t want someone saying it to your sister, you probably shouldn’t wear it at all.
Did I get through to him? Who knows. I’m sure he’ll wear the shirt again. I just hope I don’t run into him when he does. And who knows, maybe I planted a seed. Maybe he will mull it over in his head, think about it in relation to a woman in his life he cares about. We’ll see. And hope.
Leaky Ink 