Moving To Canada

I am going to start this off by saying that I am not a great writer, I’ve tried to formulate my life many times into some stories, but I realized that it's far too boring. So instead I chose this form, sort of a diary I suppose. Now I am not really sure where to start and why I am even doing this so please bear with me.

Alright, I won’t start from the very beginning but when I turned six my family and I moved to Canada. I remember the day of our flight and how blurry and hectic it was, we had so much to pack, a plethora of suitcases, and I and my sister wore matching white graphic t-shirts. On the plane ride, I remember being so nervous and excited that couldn't stop shaking my legs. When we took off it finally sunk in that I was leaving. I didn't really know where but I had this idea that it would be just some long vacation.

Eventually, we got everything unpacked and finally set up our first home in the lovely city of Mississauga. I thank god every day that I grew up in a place where it was so culturally diverse. There was much of my community so I never felt alone or like an alien.

Moving on, I started to attend an elementary school named after the famous jazz musician Oscar Peterson, the man was such an inspiration, when I learned about his story I was proud to attend a school named after such a wonderful human, that was a bit of a ramble but many people don't know who he is so I encourage you to look him up and listen to night train, I love that song.

So growing up going to Oscar Peterson taught me a lot, from the teachers I met to the not-so-nice-kids to doubting myself from such a young age to then realizing that people thought what I did and how I did was more than fine.

But what impacted me was my first year of school, that's when I met my favourite teacher the man who still inspires me to this day. his name is Mr. Banal, he was and is one of the kindest and just loving people I have ever met. being in his class was just a blessing. he was very patient with all students and because I was and had immigrated from Pakistan the school assumed I would need to be put in ESL which was for students who don't know much English and while I had an accent my English wasn't terrible. Regardless, I got out of ESL very quickly as they realized I didn't need it.

Mr. Banal had great knowledge of all the subjects, but of course, regardless of how any subject was delivered art class was my bias. I remember the day we had our first computer period and of course, me being me I decided to play around with the paint application. I happily used the spray tool to create a drawing of a house with a garden full of flowers and trees and of course couldn't forget the curved shaped birds. Now I genuinely thought this drawing didn't mean much or was that impressive. But My teacher was making the rounds and monitoring what each of us was doing he noticed from the side of the classroom that I was just sitting and staring at the computer, (I had finally finished the drawing and was thinking of my next creation).

He called the librarian and they both made their way to me and just started complimenting my drawing, he kept saying "wow that's incredible", and "very creative". Even miss librarian agreed, now I don't mean to toot my horn but I instantly felt like I was the next Da Vinci or something. Now I know they were being supportive and kind, you know because I was a kid.

But the fact that he made me print it and then showed it to the entire class the next day, and then on parent's day when I knew of how terrible my grades were in math and science, instead of bringing that up. even though my mother probably did, he showed my mother the picture and said that I had a very great and creative brain and that I have a very bright future. Even though my mother wasn't very impressed, I was glad that I had finally found my one special talent, a hobby, a passion, and something that made at least one person believe me. And while today I am not an artist I still carry that love for putting an expression on paper whatever it may be.

So Thank you Mr. Banal for being a wonderful 2nd-grade teacher.

P.S

I apologize for my writing it seems that Grammarly thinks my engagement is a bit bland. well, this is all for now, I might or might not make another little entry.

Thank you for making it to the end, I know it wasn't entertaining but I have a few interesting stories left to tell so if this goes well I might dive a bit deeper.

Love,

M.Q.