Common Ground
When I was 11 years old, my Dad, a brilliant scientist was granted a sabbatical to Reading, England. This was the second sabbatical my Dad was granted, the first was to Fargo, North Dakota when I was 5 years old. 
My parents, two younger brothers, Amjad and Ameer left our hometown of Lod, Israel and headed to Reading for a year long adventure.
We all fell in love with the charm of Reading almost immediately. From the red brick homes with perfectly manicured gardens to the cool crisp air, it was all so different and we loved every bit of it.
Fast forward to our first day of school.
My parents enrolled me in the secondary school, Maiden Erlegh and my brothers at the elementary school down the road from our rental house. With school uniforms and school supplies purchased, we set out to make new friends.
The toughest adjustment didn’t come from culture shock because there was very little of it. Our schools in Israel were excellent academically and the nuns that taught and managed the Catholic school I attended were all from abroad. By nature, mannerism and discipline in the schools mirrored those in England.
The hardest adjustment for me was language and second hardest part was pop culture. Despite speaking English on occasion at home and in the classroom since first grade, it was challenging to express myself only in English without the crutch of Arabic (my native tongue) or Hebrew (practically a native tongue).
Between playing catch up on language, muddling through homework (I was always an A student and learning came easy to me so struggling through homework was foreign territory, literally) and trying to fit in with my classmates which wasn’t easy, I felt overwhelmed.
Being the new girl in class who happened to be a foreigner that struggled with the language made me an easy target. And boy did the girls target me. I was teased for everything and anything … having an accent, being shy, having hairy un-shaved legs during gymnastics (yup, you read that right. I wasn’t allowed to shave my legs at 11 yrs old), not knowing which TV show they were obsessed with … it didn’t end.
At the urging of the Headmistress, a girl named Lucy befriended me and we started walking home together. Lucy turned out to be a wonderful friend and thanks to her, I was able to find my footing with my classmates and the teasing lessened a lot. Hanging out with Lucy, I started to realize that although we were very different, there were some important things that carried through our very different countries … music and books. Having figured that out, I felt great relief in knowing we had something in common. From there, a few budding friendships emerged that stayed with me long after we left Reading, England.
Six months into our stay and as just as we had began to feel home, my Dad accepted a project at the University of Gainesville, Florida. Culture shock? Hell yeah!
But by then, I already knew that music and books will help me bridge any gaps I faced. And I was right. I immediately found my click of bookworms that enjoyed the library as much as I did and music lovers that only heard lyrics and beautifully written words.
We moved once more after Gainesville to Riverside, California, our final and permanent stop. By then, I was a pro at being the new kid at school thanks to music and books being my reliable common ground.
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