♪ ANNA: Never, in all my years of living, had I seen a kid with bright blue hair.

CECILIA: The girls next to me were talking about how dumb they felt, so I'm thinking, what adjective could there possibly be to describe what I am?

Unfortunately, over that year, I had the "pleasure" of discovering exactly how creative people could get with my name.

WES HAZARD: Our theme for this evening is "School Days."

ANNOUNCER: This program is made possible in part by contributions from viewers like you.

Thank you.

Everyone tonight will be sharing a story on the theme of School Days.

Now, that means a lot to a lot of different people.

I think for some of us, when we think of School Days, we think of first crushes, and spelling bees, and homeroom.

And other people it's homework, and bullies, and test after test after test after test.

You are going to learn many things in the classroom in the courses of your life, and no matter what, whether that experience was good, bad, nostalgic, regretful, I think we can all look back and say, "Yeah, I learned something."

♪ I was wondering if you could start off by just telling us a little bit about yourself.

Well, yeah, I'm Cecilia, I'm 17, I'm a high school senior.

I mainly want to study dramatic arts when I graduate.

And so what kind of roles would you be looking for?

Are you more of-- you know, what speaks to you, what kind of things have you performed in that really meant a lot to you?

Well, I like to make people laugh a lot, but I also like to get messages across.

I'm really passionate about, like, social justice and stuff.

Like, I'm directing a show at school, "The Laramie Project," that has, like, really strong themes of that...

HAZARD: For sure.

And so I like to tell stories and play parts that mean something to people, but also people can connect with it, and relate with it, and, like, have fun too.

Is this your first time telling a story publicly?

Yeah, it's the first time in front of, like, an audience.

I've done it in a classroom one time for a grade, but this is my first time doing it as, like, a public thing.

What are you feeling?

What's going through your mind right now?

I'm actually really excited.

I was kind of nervous, and then I got here, and everyone's, like, really nice, so I'm a little less nervous now, and I'm just really excited and I want people to like my story, so...

The story that you're going to share with us tonight-- what made you want to share that story specifically?

Well, I go to a school where it's, like, really important that you have good grades, and your GPA is kind of who you are, and you're kind of seen based on that, and I've always had a very low one.

And specifically math has been a struggle for me, which is what my story is about.

But I've never been, like, afraid to talk about it.

I have a learning disability specific to math, which is in my story, and I think people are always, like, they want to keep it to themselves.

But I kind of thought in telling it, then it kind of takes away this, like, "You have to be so ashamed that you aren't so good at numbers," but it also kind of makes people feel like, hey, it's okay that you don't do that well if you're doing your best.

So, at my school, we have this online grading system that lets you see what you got on your test before you even get it back.

You can see your grade, you can see the high grade, the low grade, and the average grade, so you know about where you fall with your class.

So, it's ninth grade, and I walk into math, and everyone's talking about the scores that have just gone up.

And they're talking about the high, it was a 105, and I joined the conversation like, "A 105, I didn't know grades went above 100, isn't that the best you do?"

And then they start talking about the low grade, and it was a 20, and they're like, "That poor kid, how do you get a 20?"

So, I join in like, "Yeah, what idiot got a 20?"

It was me.

(audience laughs) But the girls next to me were talking about their 80s and how dumb they felt, so I'm thinking, "If you got an 80 and you're dumb, "and I got a 20, then what adjective could there possibly be to describe what I am?"

So, I have my game plan.

My teacher's going to give me my test, I'm going to flip it over and shove it in my bag, and no one's ever going to know.

'Cause I was embarrassed.

And I wasn't embarrassed because I got the lowest score, I was embarrassed because I got the lowest score but I had studied.

So, I ended up failing that year, and my school came up with this plan that I was going to take geometry next year like everybody else, and then my junior year, repeat the class I had just failed.

And that honestly might have been a really good plan, except then I failed geometry.

So, then they had to put me in summer school, and while my friends were getting up early to go to the beach, I was getting up early to go sit in the hot, hot basement of my school that has bars on the windows, and I felt trapped.

But what was worse than that was how confused I found myself, and it wasn't "I'm hot and confused," but I would look at the board, and the numbers were like-- like, moving.

Not like, what's going on, like they were moving on the board, on my paper, in my head, and it was awful.

I ended up being diagnosed with a learning disability specific to math, it's called dyscalculia and, honestly, it just means that sometimes I just don't understand.

But that can be really hard for teachers to get, the "just" part of that, 'cause they want to help you, and they want to know why you don't understand, but I can't tell them why.

I just don't.

So, I passed summer school, and I scraped by junior year, and now I'm a senior.

And I have this teacher, and I really, really love her.

She's kind, she's funny, and most importantly, she cares about whether or not you pass, which is really important to a kid like me.

But then she did this one thing that kind of annoyed me when she handed out this article about your growth mindset to my class, and I'm not going to lie, I didn't read it.

I looked at the word "growth mindset" and I was like, "That's dumb, that's not going to work, I'm over it."

But I really did like my teacher, so I kept going to class, I kept doing my homework, I kept showing up.

And then, a couple weeks later, we had this problem.

And it's called a "do now," and you just do it really fast before class starts, and then one kid has to go up and do it in front of everyone.

And in my entire six years of being a student at my school, I have never once volunteered to go do a problem in front of a class, because even if I might have been right, I was probably wrong.

But this one was different.

I checked in with my neighbor, I looked it over a bunch of times, and I felt right.

So I raised my hand, and even though everyone was a little surprised, they let me go do it.

So I walk up to the front of the room, and I have my pen, and I do the best I can, and I circle my answer like five times, 'cause I'm really proud, and everyone's staring at me.

And I'm like, "Thank God they're staring at me, "'cause finally I'm on the same level as them, I'm good at math now."

And I sit down, and we start going over the problem, and the answer was 16 x-squared minus 4x plus two, all over 3x, and my answer, circled four times in red, was five.

So I'm looking around at everyone, prepared to feel embarrassed and just go, "Oh, yeah, I'm dumb, it happens," but then it was different.

'Cause they all started going over it with me, and we'd go over why it couldn't have possibly been five, which I understood after about 30 seconds, but the point was, I didn't feel ashamed.

And that's when I realized what a growth mindset is.

It isn't willing yourself into being able to do something, 'cause I can be as positive as you want-- I'm still positive I don't know the answer.

It's just that you have to give it a shot.

So, if you haven't figured it out by now, I don't want to be an accountant when I grow up.

You're never going to walk into a bank and see me there, I promise.

But I do want to be an actor.

And this goes for that, too, 'cause in auditions and on stage, you mess up sometimes.

But if you can grow from it, then it doesn't matter if you messed up at all, and that's when I realized what my teacher was trying to tell us.

She didn't want you to make yourself magically good at math, she just wanted us to try.

Thank you.

(applause) (applause continues) HAZARD: Let her hear it!

(applause) I talked to the other kids before I went on, and we were all pretty nervous, but I think I did a pretty good job, and it was really exciting once you got up there.

In addition to people having the message to just, like, try no matter what, I kind of wanted people to get that it's not really fair to judge people based off a subject they're not good at, or a test grade they didn't get, 'cause even if you're not directly saying something to them, like, in the beginning, I talked about how people get a good grade and say they were stupid, and you think, "Oh, like, what am I, then?"

So, kind of just your business is your business, and your grades are your grades, and you can feel how you want to feel about it, but you don't have any right to make other people feel worse about it.

♪ HAZARD: Furquann, thank you so much for joining us tonight on "Stories From the Stage."

And you're a sophomore, right?

Yes.

HAZARD: So you have plenty of time to figure it out, but I'm just-- do you have an idea of what you might want to do when you get out of high school?

Or what you might want to pursue?

Not really.

I think about it a lot, but I don't really have any idea.

Like, I've thought about business school or law school, they seem most, like, enticing, but, you know, I bet that's what happens to everybody when they're a sophomore, you know, so... What appeals to you about the idea of becoming a lawyer one day?

Umm... (exhales) You know, I guess it's just something about, like, having that sort of power and being able to control the outcome of it with your words.

That, sort of, is appealing to me.

I was hoping that you could tell us a little bit about your motivation for sharing this particular story with us tonight-- you know, what you hope to achieve, and, you know, what will you hope that people might take away from it.

So, I will say that at the beginning, when I started... putting this together, my intent was, and still is, to give people a little insight on what it's like to be, you know, a person, like, in my shoes, you know.

Because, obviously, the skin color, like, the racial divide is a thing that's existent here, so, no, people giving from one side, giving other people insight can be a very helpful thing for that cause.

My name is Furquann.

It's a very common name amongst Muslims all around the world.

It is not as common of a name as it is in New England.

But, growing up, most people would call me "Fur-kwan," because of the way it's spelled.

You see, they'd see the Q-U in my name, and they'd immediately think, "Qua," because that's how the English language works.

In Arabic, though, it is a little different, it's pronounced with a K. So, my name is an Arabic word that means "the difference between good and bad."

You see, back in fifth grade, I used to get upset about-- well, everything.

And most people, they didn't really see that, well, they saw too much, that my name was a little different from the rest of theirs, so, when the first nickname emerged, I remember, it was "Furky," and everybody just loved it.

So, when it happened, I just thought, well, I was already letting them call me "Fur-kwan."

Because at age ten, I was way past the point of...

I had already gotten tired of explaining the difference between "Fur-kwan" and "Fur-khan."

It was like five minutes for each person, so you can't really blame me.

But, when it happened, I just thought, you know, what's the harm?

Unfortunately, over that year, I had the "pleasure" of discovering exactly how creative people could get with my name.

So, like I said, it started with Furky, and it kind of snowballed from there, right?

So, in class, I'd answer a question right and everyone would just make a huge deal out of it just so that they could say it, right.

So, "Hey, Furky, nice job, man."

Or they'd be sitting next to me in class and they'd start picking at my arms, and be like, "Hey, Furry, that's a lot of fur you have there."

Ha-ha, right?

It's not that funny.

(laughter) (laughing): But... That... and pretty soon, it just, it just got bad, because... let me give you an example.

The place where I hated it the most was lunch.

And that was because I was...

I was a shy kid, I hated the type of attention this brought me, and at lunchtime, every single student was in the same room.

None of them had anything to pay attention to, so somebody would run up while I'm getting my lunch.

"Hey, Fur-quack"... like a duck.

I don't get it, either.

(laughter) But they'd say that, and then pretty soon, heads started turning, and people started pointing, and everybody was laughing and calling names.

I was at the center of it, and I hated it.

So, pretty soon, I let it get to my head.

And I just got frustrated, so whenever somebody would call me anything that wasn't my regular name, I'd just get, I'd get frustrated and I'd yell at them.

I deeply regret doing that, though, because everybody just wanted to keep doing it more.

And 'cause they're kids, right, they just loved when I got upset.

So instead, I tried something else, I tried to dish it back out as it was being handed to me.

So, I just tried to make fun of everybody else's name like they were doing to me.

But I kind of ran into a wall there, so to speak, because everybody else had the most typical name you could think of ever, so I didn't know, as a fifth grader, what I was going to change about a name like Chris, or Michael.

So, I took a different approach.

Let me give you an example.

So, I remember one time a war veteran came in to speak to our class.

He spoke about his war experiences, and there was one particular place he spoke about when he was fighting in Denmark, I believe, and they had-- the natives there had an accent, and they'd pronounce their Js funny, so, let's say they had somebody called "John," they'd pronounce it like "Yon."

So, after I learned that, what did I do whenever my buddy John was around?

(fake yawning): I'd do this fake, sort of, yawn.

It was bad, and I knew it was bad at the time, but these sort of back-and-forths, they continued for a while, until April of 2013.

That was the month of the Boston Marathon bombing.

When that incident happened, I was on spring break, and for the most part, I was looking forward to getting back to school and, you know, seeing my friends, but I was also expecting, you know, like, the teases and the "Fur-quacks" to come back and stuff, and I was bracing myself.

But when I walked in on Monday, and I was walking through the halls, nothing happened.

You know, nobody in classes, at recess, even at lunch, nobody called me any names.

I just got these awkward, these quick glances.

And even my best friend, when I was talking to him, I was playing around with him in the halls, and he was acting a little distant, and he asked me, "Hey, do you remember what happened last week?"

And I said...

I was taken aback, I didn't know what to say, so I said, "Well, yeah, of course I do."

And he said, "Don't draw too much attention to yourself."

So, for that next month, I wasn't the target of any bullying, I wasn't the target of any name-calling, I... but I got a chance to reflect on myself, on my name, particularly, because my name-- like I said, it means "the difference between good and bad," and the good thing was I wasn't the target of any name-calling for the next month, but the bad thing was I wasn't the target of any name-calling for the next month.

And what I mean by that is people didn't see me for the person who I was, they saw me for my Muslim identity.

They saw me for my Arabic name.

It's been a year since-- no, it's been five years since that time, roughly, and some of the name-calling did come back.

And I can say that I'm more tolerant now than I used to be, but I'm also grateful for-- I'm also grateful because, that people, people don't... people see past the things that are different about me, people see past my brown skin, and people see past my foreign name.

And they see me for me, for who I am.

And for the people who don't see past the things that are different about me and them, I just wish I could say-- I wish I could tell them that, you know, we're not so different, after all, because just like you, I was born here in America.

I was born in Massachusetts, in fact.

And that's why whenever somebody comes up to me in the halls today with a weird name like, "Hey, Furky," I don't get upset, and I don't get frustrated, I say, "Hey, that's me."

Thank you so much.

(cheers and applause) HAZARD: Make some noise!

Yes!

(cheers and applause) 15.

15.

High school or middle school bullies are many things.

Mainly, very mean and very relentless.

They are not creative, I will tell you that.

I'm Wesley Hazard.

All through seventh grade, I got called "Wesley Water Hazard" every day of my life, and it was crushing, I would have like, existential crises like, "How will I ever get through this?"

And looking back, that is the dumbest insult of all time.

What?

That doesn't even make sense.

It is all going to wash away.

That's what I like to tell, you know, anybody going through stuff at that age.

You'll get through, you'll get through.

♪ HAZARD: So, Anna, thank you so much for being with us here tonight at "Stories from the Stage."

We're really glad to have you.

I know that this is not your first time telling a story in public, which is pretty amazing for a sophomore in high school, and, you know, can you tell us a little bit about how you got into storytelling in front of, you know, others?

Yeah, so my mom has been telling me and my siblings stories for as long as I can remember, and she has a regular place she visits called The Story Space, which she visits every Tuesday night, and when I'm not busy, I'll go with her.

And occasionally I'll tell a story during open mic.

Why do you want to share this specific story with us tonight?

Well, I feel like storytelling should be able to connect with a wider audience and evoke emotion within them, and I feel like my story could-- probably a lot of people have had similar experiences with the stuff that happens, and it's a lot-- you're a lot more invested in the story if you're... emotionally you-you connect with what's happening, and I'm doing this tonight 'cause I really like being on stage and that feels really good and powerful.

I'm trembling in the corner of my fourth grade classroom on the first day of school.

I'm holding a survey.

It says things like, "Find someone who has the same birthday month as you."

No one did.

And, "Find someone who ate the same thing for breakfast as you," cereal and milk.

Under that, it says, "Write all the names of the new kids in class."

(sighs) Time to formulate my master plan.

I figure it's hard to write without a hard surface, so I'll leave my sheet on the table, go over, get the new kid's name, and run back so I can write it down.

Totally foolproof.

After being pushed a fair amount, I timidly approached her.

There was one problem.

Never, in all my years of living, had I seen a kid with bright blue hair.

The intimidation levels of dyed hair on a fourth grader are extraordinary.

(audience laughs) I manage to get her name, scurry back to my page, and...

I realized at that moment I'd forgotten her name.

For some reason, I figured I'd just repeat the plan.

Once again, leaving my sheet on the table, I walked back over to her, now feeling pretty embarrassed, as well as terrified, get her name and... nerves are a killer.

The third time I got her name, I finally managed to remember it.

Her name was Challah, like the Jewish challah bread.

Leave it to me to forget such a weird name three times.

Challah, frankly, hated everyone and everything.

She spent the first half of the year sulking on our school field and ignoring everyone who attempted to interact with her.

I eventually learned that she'd moved from Colorado, and had to leave all her friends behind.

She couldn't run around barefoot or see the stars at night, there were no mountains or grizzly bears-- which, for the record, are the same thing as brown bears-- we've had many arguments about it.

I didn't much mind her anger since I wasn't the best at making new friends, and I was doing pretty well at avoiding absolutely everyone.

Around halfway through the year, though, we somehow managed to become best friends.

She listened to me.

She was loud and bright and colorful and confident, and I was shy and quiet and introverted and alone.

I'd never been more enamored with anyone.

We both hated dance with a burning passion.

(laughter) Although, looking back on it, she might have been faking it a little bit, and maybe I was, too.

I would hide behind poles during dance class.

Israeli dance is mandatory at our school up until fifth grade.

We made up stories about the evil "deachers," otherwise known as "dance teachers."

(laughter) We'd lay on her bed and stare at her glow-in-the-dark stars, surrounded by fairy lights, poetry, candles, and tiny cacti.

We joined our sixth grade speech team together, and she helped me get over my stage fright.

We went to J.P. Licks late at night and ate ice cream by the beautiful painted piano in Newton Center.

Every year, right after Passover, we'd wait in line for an hour with all the other Jews to get post-holiday ice cream.

(laughter) We went on a school retreat together one year in New Hampshire.

She ended up being upset because it was a cloudy night and we couldn't see any stars.

I promised her I'd find her some stars and ended up discovering the next best thing-- a huge dark field, full of hundreds of fireflies.

We watched their blinking golden lights for what seemed like half the night.

She played the ukulele.

She hated her singing, but I could listen to her strumming on that thing all day long.

She'd play "Riptide" by Vance Joy until she messed up and started singing badly on purpose, just to annoy me.

We used to hike in the woods behind her house a lot, which we affectionately called the "Forest of Pod."

It was one of the only real spots of nature anywhere in the Newton area.

We went there a lot.

School can be hell.

There were days when she was one of the only reasons I wanted to get out of bed in the morning.

It can be scary and isolating and tiring.

It's easy to forget that there's people around you going through the same things as you.

It's easy to forget there's people who care.

Challah's hair was a constantly changing array of bright colors.

For graduation, she dyed it the colors of the galaxy to match her dress: purples and blues and pink on the bottom.

Around two years ago, Challah moved.

She has a cat now.

She always wanted pets.

When she asked her landlord back in Boston if she could have a turtle if it was always in its cage, he claimed that it would sneak out at night and it would terrorize her neighborhood.

(laughter) Her hair is bright red now.

A couple of months ago, it was a soft pink.

She texts me and my friends things like, "What do you do if you have tetanus?"

And "Do you think the paint I swallowed is toxic?"

(laughter) I think you can see the stars in Oregon 3,133 miles away from me.

At least, I hope so.

(applause) HAZARD: Wasn't that fantastic?

Yes!

(applause) Yeah, as a performer, I'm a stand-up comic and a storyteller, and you know, often, you go to shows, open mics, and you'll see a very young performer, and, you know, who clearly has a talent, You go, like, "That's who's going to replace me."

So, yeah, just had that moment.

(laughter) ANNOUNCER: This program is made possible in part by contributions from viewers like you.

Thank you.

♪ ♪