Trophy Person.

Dear Lamya.

I realize you will never read this letter. You can't read nor understand much English, and you never go online except to check your friends' forwarded powerpoint quotes. You told me this.

Because of this, I am confident in saying I am sorry.

It was my mistake. For the longest time, I thought that when people said "Margarita Pizza", they were talking about what we call the "Hawaiian Pizza", the one with pineapples. In fact, you are right. Margarita Pizzas have no pineapples on them. Not in Jeddah, not in America, and not in.. where was it again? Europe?

I'm sorry I wasted 20 minutes of your time arguing with you on this, abusing the fact that you couldn't defend your argument in the only language I could understand because you were just a lowly student and I was your all-knowing teacher.

I apologize for my invalid arguments, the threatening "Lamya, do you even KNOW what Margarita MEANS?". I apologize for my accusatory tone, my scoffing, my laughing at your feeble attempts at explaining how you knew you were right. I apologize for my challenge, for this statement: "Come with me and we will ask every teacher in this center and if they tell you that Margarita has, in fact, pineapples, then you will get more homework everyday."

Classic bullying tactics. 

Of course you didn't understand my words. But I'm sure you understood the madness twinkling in my eye, the blinding competitiveness, the desire to win any argument at all cost.

Which is probably why you chose to stay quiet. I am most sorry about that.

I am your teacher. I should be giving you correct information to the best of my abilities. It is what I am paid to do. It is not my job to win arguments. And yet, I feel that I just have to. It is that defense mechanism I have, because I feel so uninformed, so uneducated, that I have to overcompensate by belittling others.

This is my skewed perception of what validates me as a person. So often, I feel so stupid. I feel invisible to people because the things I say are always so meaningless, so devoid of impact and purpose, so trivial.

By being more than a little condescending, a little more pompous, a little more elaborate, I feel I am able to hold my own. 

It's not your fault that I feel intimidated by you, by your quiet non-English intellect. Here is someone I am supposed to teach, someone so open about the fact that she lacks certain skills and is willing to correct that by learning.

I would never admit that I lacked any skill. I would just as soon say that I didn't NEED that particular skill, than say that I didn't have it.

How could anyone be so open about their weaknesses? How could anyone be like that without inviting all kinds of ridicule and mocking from those around them? How could anyone risk that?

The other day, as I rushed home to check Margarita Pizzas and their descriptions online, I already saw how very wrong I was, in so many levels. 

I still can't get myself to apologize to you in person, to openly admit that I have not won this argument, when the truth is, before I even opened my mouth to contradict you, I had already lost.

The trophy is not mine. It never was.

Love,

Miss N.

***

Lamya is a Level 1 English student. She is currently learning basic language and phrases to order food in a restaurant with an English-speaking staff.