Love, Organically

During my first attempt at online dating, I “met” this guy from California. I wasn’t used to meeting guys online at that point. Every guy I was interested in or talking to had been someone I had met amongst my social circle. This was before smartphones, Instagram, and when Facebook was just for college students. The online world was still an enigma to most people, and social media was reduced to MySpace.

I was brought to the online dating world after for working as a full-time teacher for 2-3 years and realizing the limited opportunities to meet new people were dwindling. I decided to give the online dating world a try. The first site I joined was called “Arab Lounge.” Although I wasn’t completely set on marrying an Arab, it was the only dating site with Muslims that had a decent amount of people on it. So back to Cali Guy…

I replied to his message because of how simple and flattering it was, “You seem like a sincere person.”

I remember bracing for weirdness as I went to his profile. All the messages I had gotten had been pretty weird. As I looked at his profile, I realized, he was actually pretty normal… and funny, too! I responded back with a ‘thank you’ and gave him a compliment about something I read on his profile (don’t remember exactly what it was), and he asked if we could talk on the phone. The prospect of talking to a normal guy was pretty exciting.

Our first conversation was ok. He seemed cool, but I felt like I was on some sort of job interview – “So, where do you hope to be in 5 years? What would you say is your biggest flaw? What do you like to do in your downtime?” It was pretty awkward, but unfortunately, I like talking about myself, so…

The second conversation was even more strange AND the most enlightening (the enlightenment came later). He built this hypothetical situation about walking into this party where all of these different groups of people were mingling. At a closer look, while walking around the room, you notice that all of these people, although seemingly similar, have quite different conversations from group to group. So eventually, a person would gravitate towards a particular group that they enjoyed talking to and had more in common with. Again, even if everyone seemed similar.

At the time, I was just more preoccupied with the fact that he was a normal guy, so I just acted like I got what he was trying to make me understand and acted pleasantly agreeable with just about anything he said. I felt the connection between us start to dwindle when I got the feeling that I didn’t answer some of his questions to his liking, despite my desperate efforts to impress him. I was getting ready to leave for a year-long study in Egypt, and when I offered him my number in Egypt if he ever wanted to call he responded so rudely with, “Why the hell would I call you there?” Now you may think, “Well, Meriam it IS very presumptuous to think that he’s going to call you overseas,” but his family was also from Egypt and he mentioned how he goes back to visit extended family quite often. I didn’t delude myself into thinking we were in some kind of relationship, but I did want to stay in touch. He seemed to dismiss me quite quickly, even not responding to any emails. That was my first real experience with ghosting. So when he did come to visit, I simply told him I was too busy. I wasn’t about to do what he did to me and simply ignore him, but he needed to know that his rudeness was not ok.

All of these online experiences were quite new to me. I was used to falling in “like” with guys I saw on a regular basis; not through chat and phone. It felt unnatural to me, but I wasn’t having any luck elsewhere, so what the hell.

After a string of strange online conversations with other guys, I met another guy online. I was back in the U.S. for two weeks during my year of living in Egypt. He was living in California at the time, but he grew up in Egypt. Although our first conversation left me feeling uneasy about him, he pursued me, and I gave in. My cousins also told me to “stop being so picky” and to “give him a chance.” I wish I had never listened to them. He and I spoke via Skype, chat, etc for about five months until he came to Egypt to visit his family and we met. Not only was it the most awkward meeting in my life because we didn’t know how to talk to each other in person, but I realized that I wouldn’t have been interested in him if we had met in person from the beginning. I was 26 at the time, and I didn’t understand that proximity was the most important thing for real chemistry.

Fast forward to my 30s. I’ve met lots of different people online, and have even made some friends along the way, but the vibe has shifted… for the worse.

Now that internet dating has become the norm, rules of kindness and even human decency have gone out the window. Some of my friends and I have gotten messages from guys that have opinions about our profiles, the way we dress, our professions, and even our religiosity. Although I knew FULL WELL that these jerks would never make comments like this if we were going out for coffee for the first time (or maybe some of them would), I still replied with some civility.

Not only has online dating allowed people to give unsolicited advice about our lives, but it has allowed people to completely ignore each other. If a guy clicks on the “show interest” button, then I don’t necessarily feel compelled to say anything. However, if someone messages me, even if it’s a canned message, I still respond truthfully. The main thing that really started to bother me, was how rejected I started to feel by these complete strangers. I felt that when I sent a message, it was like trying to start a conversation with them and then watching them walk away with no response like I didn’t even exist. Whenever I would share this feeling with others, I was told I was “too sensitive,” and I “expected too much.” But wasn’t I kind of supposed to expect something out of these websites? And wasn’t my being “too sensitive” allowing me to be a bit kinder to others online?

As I turned the corner into my 40s this year, I had finally started to understand the conversation I had from Cali guy years ago. The internet does not allow for the organic flow of meeting someone and having that real chemistry. It doesn’t matter the amount of complex and precise algorithms, how many questions you answer on your profile or the percentage you have in common with someone. If we were to walk into a room full of people, the conversations and attraction (both romantic and platonic) would facilitate our tendencies toward certain people more than others. Fewer people would feel fine about just ignoring someone trying to talk to them, and even fewer people would feel fine about criticizing you. Therefore you’d be able to tell who the jerks are from the beginning.

A few months ago I decided to delete all of my profiles on the many dating websites I wasted my time on over the years. The older I got, the more self-conscious I felt about my age, I got worn down by the casual meanness and opted for just hoping and praying for a more organic way of meeting someone. Being a person who feels the need to constantly control my future, this was quite the departure from my usual ways. I believe that success in everything is equal parts doing AND praying, so not incorporating the doing part is hard for me. I’m not telling everyone to suddenly give up their dating profiles – if it works for them, but it’s only had a negative effect on me. Maybe I’m “too sensitive” or maybe I do “expect too much” out of people in general, but I’m done trying to prove who I am to hundreds, thousands, millions of people who have never met me face to face.

Dinosaurs Will Die

It happened.  I knew it inevitably would.

The finality of it came this past August (2015).  It was the first week back at school, and I was doing a “get to know you” activity with my middle school Music Marketing and Management class*.

It was a simple activity where they had to fill out a little questionnaire about themselves and their musical tastes – Current favorite song, favorite artist, and favorite album.  My conditions were that when I called out one of the questions on the questionnaire they could share their answer, and they had to answer at least one question.

When I came to the question, “What’s your favorite album of all time?”  I was met with puzzled looks.  Finally, one kid said, “What’s an album?”

I don’t mean to be overdramatic, but my heart instantly dropped to my stomach.  I was afraid that something like this would happen.  The rise of Mp3 players, iTunes downloading, homogenized popular music through almost two decades, and the birth of vocal contest shows like American Idol  and The Voice  meant only one thing – the death of the album.

When I was little, and I only wanted to listen to one particular song, I had to sit in front of my cassette recorder and listen to the radio, just to be able to record that single song on a blank tape.  When I was in third grade, I bought my first cassette tape – Bon Jovi:  New Jersey.  I only knew two songs on the album, but I got to know the entire album really well.  It was just too much of a hassle to have to constantly rewind or fast-forward to my favorite songs.  Since I bought the tapes with my allowance, I wasn’t about to waste my money on singles.  The full albums were only a couple dollars more.

In college, whenever I was feeling stressed out, sad, or angry, I would go to CD Warehouse, Hastings, Vintage Vinyl,  or any used CD store that I frequented.  It was my therapy, and no matter what I was going through, I would find the answer in an album I hadn’t yet discovered.  There was (and still is) something invigorating about listening to a new album, even it’s just new to you, and realizing that these musicians opened their hearts and shared their personal feelings through their own creative experience.  I love listening to a new song and thinking, “I know exactly how you feel!”

When I came back to the U.S. in July of 2005 after spending a year in Cairo, Egypt, my best friend and I went to Best Buy to look at the latest in music technology – the Apple iPod.  All of my albums could go on this one device, and I could FINALLY get rid of my CD visors in my car.  Why wouldn’t I buy it?

I downloaded iTunes for the first time, imported all of my own music, and enjoyed skipping to whatever song I wanted without having to switch any tapes or CDs.  Then I found the iTunes store.  You mean to tell me that I could just download a single song for only 99 cents?  I knew that was dangerous.  That’s when I knew things would change.

At that moment, I vowed to download AT LEAST  10-15 full albums as year.  I know that I couldn’t stop the way things were changing, but I was sure as hell not going to compromise my own musicianship.

Fast-forward back to August of 2015.  About 99% of my students had never even listened to a full album.  There was one student that named a Black Keys album as his favorite, but he was a very talented musician himself, so it didn’t surprise me that he didn’t fall into that changing trend.

One night in late August of 2015, I was listening to The Q by CBC Radio on NPR, and they were interviewing Fat Mike from NOFX about his 25 year anniversary of his label Fat Wreck Chords (link to interview).  Fat Mike talked about his ups and downs being in the music business, his work ethics and integrity he tried to keep despite the corruption of big labels, and what he learned from it all.  He then mentioned a story when talking about his own personal life – he talked about a new album in front of his daughter and she asked him, “What’s an album?”  I was COMPLETELY floored!  This man was the epitome of anti-establishment, individualization in music, rejecting musical trends, and catering to the masses, and his own daughter had been caught in the trend.  If his own child fell into this trend, what hope do I have for my own children?

Ever since then, I speak to my middle schoolers of the importance of respecting a musician’s creative process and giving their whole album a chance.  I have that advantage with being a music teacher – my students assume I know what I’m talking about.  I know one thing’s for sure though, I’ll be damned if my kids don’t know what an album is.

*My Music Marketing and Management class that I’ve created is a class that gives students an opportunity to create their own imaginary record label, represent an artist of their choice and market the artist for voting among their peers.  It’s not exactly the way I would like them to learn how they music industry works, but it gives them an idea of the bare bones process of it all.

Walk Like An Egyptian

This is from a series of excerpts from a book I’m writing.

The Presentation

Growing up in St. Louis, Missouri, there weren’t a lot of Egyptians around to socialize with. We had a small group of friends that we considered like family, but we lived in North County St. Louis with one other Egyptian family, while all of our other family friends lived in West or South County.

When I was a baby, my mother told me that people would stop and look at me and comment on how ‘exotic’ I looked. Of course I looked exotic, everyone else was either black or white in North County. We were the first Egyptians/Arabs that most people had met there. Most people knew nothing about the present-day Egyptian/Arab culture, and would imagine that ‘our home’ was where we wore genie outfits and Honda tailor-made stick shift carpets for our daily commutes.

In first grade, my teacher had asked me to talk about Egypt and Islam during Social Studies one day. I was excited for a couple of reasons: 1. I got sick of my classmates asking me if we worshipped camels; 2. I was eager to correct some ‘facts’ in our textbook, which was at least a decade old; and 3. I love(d) being the center of attention.

My mom helped me gather some props for my three-part presentation – Part 1: Ancient Egypt; Part 2: Egypt today; and Part 3: Islam. We covered the basics of what I would talk about, and how to be honest with my audience if there was a question I couldn’t answer. After all of this, I still was not prepared for what was about to happen during the Q & A.

I was on edge with excitement all day. Social studies was at the end of the day, so I paid little attention to all the other subjects, thinking about how I would present, and how eloquently I would answer their questions. I imagined a standing ovation at the end of my perfor… uh… presentation. All the other kids would be fighting over who would be playing with me at recess, and I’d be invited to all of the birthday parties. (This was back when you could pick and choose who you invited to your birthday.)

My teacher told us to put our things in our desks for social studies and not to get our books out, because we were going to ‘have a special treat.’ While she was talking, I gathered my props, leaned them on the chalkboard and started my presentation. I talked about what I had seen at the Cairo Museum, passed around some papyrus with hieroglyphics on it, talked about how my cousins and I spent our time together during summer vacation, said some common words in Arabic, talked about the five pillars of Islam, showed them what a prayer rug looked like, and talked about how we couldn’t eat pork. I was proud of how well it went, and started collecting my props when my teacher said, “Does anyone have any questions for Meriam?”

And that’s when it all went to hell.

Question: “Is it scary riding on a camel?”

Answer: “I’ve never been on a camel.”

Question: “Do you have cars there?”

Answer: “Yes, and bikes.”

Question: “Do they have cereal there?”

Answer: “Yes.”

Question: “Do they speak Spanish there?”

Answer: “No, Arabic.”

Question: “What is Arabic?”

Answer: “The language that Egyptians speak.”

Question: “What about TVs? Do they have TVs there?”

Answer: “Yes.”

Question: “Do they have radios?”

Answer: “Yes.”

Question: “Do they eat corn? spaghetti? pizza? Do they have t-shirts? sunglasses? mufflers?”

This went on for quite awhile. They just asked about random stuff for what seemed like five hours, until one of my classmates in the front asked, “What is pork?”

I told him that it was “any meat from a pig.”

Now before I continue with how this interrogation went, I should tell you that this kid was a big smart ass, and mocked everyone and everything that he could. He ended everything with “ha-ha, you (insert mockery).” I know you’re thinking Nelson on the Simpsons, but he sounded more like Bobcat.

That’s when he proceeded to list every type of meat product he knew and asked whether I could eat it or not. When he got to asking me about bacon, I said ‘no.’ In disbelief, he said, “Really? No bacon?”

“No, I can’t eat bacon. It’s from a pig,” I said.

“Ha ha, you can’t eat bacon.”

“So?”, I said.

“That’s dumb.”

“You’re dumb.”

That’s when my teacher told the class to thank me and told us to pack up for dismissal. I put all my props away, got my backpack and sat back at my desk. I sat up straight and took a quick look around the room at all my classmates. Nothing had changed. No standing ovation, no one inviting me over to their house to play after school, no birthday invitations, nothing.

As a teacher now, I realize that I expected too much from 7 year-old classmates to begin with, but as a 7 year-old at the time, I thought I would be the talk of the playground. It was disappointing. Even then, I knew they asked stupid questions, and didn’t understand what the obsession over bacon was about. We had the Pyramids, dammit! By then, I had been out of the country twice. I mean, how cool was that?!  When I bragged about that, they would respond with, “Me too, I went to Florida last summer.”

Damn public school education.

Scarlet Tanager, the band, not the bird…

Well, maybe the bird a little bit.  Mostly the band, though!

“Ashes and dust to dust; stories that make us.  We are, we are the same.”

These lyrics sum up the my experience with (St. Louis based band) Scarlet Tanager’s newest album, “Let’s Love.” This album has become my go-to album since spring break!  It continues to bring a mix of emotions every time I listen to it, from whimsy, to nostalgia, to love, to melancholy, and back through it all again.

The title song “Let’s Love,” is a great upbeat start to the album, and introduces the wonderful energy to their sound.  I would have to say, though, that the next song, “Stay Unknown,” was my favorite song for at least 2 months, before “Hand Grenades” stole my heart with it’s strong anthem-like sound.  It’s no wonder why they chose “Stay Unknown,” for their entry to the NPR Tiny Desk Contest.  In the video, you can see the keyboardist use one of those little toy upright pianos that we had when we were kids – you know, the one that makes that great “plunking” sound.  The diversity of instruments are one of my favorite things about this album.

The lyrics above are from another great song about called “Place That I Come From.”  There are so many messages I get from this song.  Nostalgia about where I’m from, the love of my city (St. Louis), the power of love and its ability to bring two people together from two different places, daydreams, and hope.  I know that’s a lot of emotions, but good songs can do that.  The video features the recording studio, surrounded by friends and family, and pictures of them when they were young – all the good things in life.

Their first video release was “How The West Was Won,” featuring the band and their kids counterparts playing in the forest.  The best way to describe this video is to say it looks like it was created by Wes Anderson.  It has that same playfulness and unassuming whimsy that all Wes Anderson creations.  It’s so wonderfully done.

There isn’t a song on this album I don’t absolutely love.  As a matter of fact, if I ever get married, I think the “first dance” song will be “In Your Best.”  That says a lot since the last song I chose for the “first dance” was “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us,” by Starship, from the 1987 movie Mannequin.

I could go on and on about every single track on this album, but if you aren’t persuaded to give this album a listen, then you’re obviously helpless (insert sly wink here).  Seriously, though – give this album a listen, and I guarantee you’ll love it as much as I do!

Don’t panic!

Every.  Single.  Time.  I’ve just finished a nice, long vacation, and then the reality sets in that I’m going back to work the next day.  You know you feel it, too.  Whatever day your “Sunday” might be, that feeling that begins in the pit of your stomach, that makes you not want to leave your bed, and makes you wonder how you ever got along in the real world, is unmistakable.

You try your best to be prepared for the first workday of the week, but a myriad of thoughts run through your head:

“Do I have clean clothes for tomorrow?”

“Is there anything I need to do, (reports, grading, phone calls) before I go into work tomorrow?”

“Will I get enough sleep, or should I stop by Starbucks on my way to work? Will I have time?”

Monday comes and goes, and you notice that everything went fairly well.  So what the hell was I so anxious about the night before?  And even IF there were some kinks in my day, did it merit all the nervousness?  I love my job.  I love the people that I work with.  So, what’s the problem then?  Where is the stress coming from?

According to writer Taylor Clark, author Poise Under Pressure, Serenity Under Stress, and the Brave New Science of Fear and Cool, it’s basically because we rely on social media too much, and we don’t receive enough human interaction.  He talks about this a lot in his article “It’s Not the Job Market,” and goes on to say that because we’ve lost a sense of community in the American culture, people often feel alone and therefore anxious.

I’ve read some psychologists go as far as saying that our anxiety levels have increased due to our problems being less tangible than what our ancestors had to deal with.  I don’t know about you, but I’m perfectly fine not having to fight a lion for my dinner tonight.

As a teacher, my stress comes from making sure I’m prepared for my students the next day.  It also comes from making sure I’m making enough time for myself (which I’m very bad at).

Wherever your stress comes from, don’t let it get the best of you.  I’ve been pretty good at talking myself out of any panic attack by asking myself the following question:  “What’s the worst that could happen?”

If this doesn’t work for you, here’s a good TED talk you can listen to for more advise.

Thanks for reading!