Hedlof 1/ 3
Dean Hedlof [published by permission]
Professor Frey
English 101
[date] 2011
Realization through Ruination
When I think about my own literacy and how I became the writer I am today, I realize that the answer lies in my experiences while deployed, which forced an all new perspective on me after visiting a school in Iraq and seeing the hardships children there face on a daily basis.I learned a lot about literary technique in school and was always told of the importance of an education;however, not until I saw the harsh country of Iraq, did I know the true significance of literacy and an education. I now know that my life improved immensely since I have taken an interest in reading, writing, and continuing my education, which will vastly improve my overall quality of life in the future. My battlefield experience profoundly impacted my perspective on life giving me a new appreciation for literacy and education.I nowperceive writing as a process which can prove sometimes soothing, sometimes frustrating, and always an adventure.
I took literacy for granted in the past, like the water that we enjoy so much in this blistering Arizona desert heat. I could not truly fathom the importance of my education and literacy until I explored a little school, destroyed in warand left in ruins.Thankfully, this schoolproduced an enlightening effect and showed me the overall importance of literacy and an education.
I spent twelve long and arduous months in Iraq; during this deployment, I recognized the importance of an education. I now know that the reality is that if I had had an education I would not have been deployed;but, I would have continued my life never really appreciating literacy. Iraq is harsh, extremely dusty, heavily polluted, and insanely hot. The deadly remnants of vicious and extensive wars linger like a bad taste after eating rotten food; from the demolished buildings, which include houses and schools, to the burnt and rusted remains of blown up cars littering the gutters. The people live as they have for thousands of years, from the sheepherders that live off the livestock and the land, to the mud huts that so many Iraqis still inhabit today. Passing through certain parts of Iraq gives the impression of traveling back in time.
Unfortunately, I also saw many Iraqi children who did not have the ability to get an education due to the war. Many of whom cannot read or write. Instead, the Iraqi children adapted sign language by tilting their hands up and their heads back as if drinking from a cup and saying “May-ya” which is Arabic for water, to convey their incredible thirst to the American soldiers; thus, shattering the language barrier. The heartrending sight of overwhelming poverty almost became unbearable, but there was nothing more I could do. On the other hand, I know that if these children weregiven the privilege of an education they could not only become literate, and they would also have a fighting chance at a promising future.
On one rare occasion, my platoon earned a day to get away and we wanted to go sightseeing. We went to see the Victory over America palace along with the Ba’ath Party convention center, both brutally destroyed during the war. We also took a detour that day, which brought us to the ruins of a school that had been bombed during the initial push in Operation Iraqi Freedom. Of all the places I saw that day; the school will forever remain in my mind.
The exterior of this red brick school looked normal enough. Bushes lined the outside, swings swayed lazily in the breeze, and a mural of Saddam Hussein loomed over the playground.The entrance to the school lead to the office, which also looked normal enough, other than the fact that dust lined everything and scattered papers covered the ground. Walking up to this school gave me slightly the same sensation as when I went to school for the first time; the excited nervousness of the unknown journey lying ahead. I was excited to see what an Iraqi elementary school may look like on the inside, and eager to compare this school to those that I attended as a child.
However, upon entering deeper into the bowels of the school the atmosphere changed.The temperature seemed to get cooler. Dust filled the air.The school got darker the farther in I went. The smell of rotting wood, dust, and mold filled the air; the stench of the decaying school disgusted me.The faint sound of Muslim prayer played over distant loud speakers floated eerily through the halls. Shadows jumped from wall to wall with the changing direction of my flashlight. With each step taken light dust plumed and scattered like roaches in the light, my heart beat grew steadily faster with the nervous excitement of exploration.Classrooms lined the hallway, for some, the doors were closed tightly while others had no doors at all. Rooms on both sides of the hall were stacked high and overflowed with old decrepit furniture and broken desks.Several doors took some rather forceful convincing before they would open and others simply gave way with a low anguished groan. When I aimed my flashlight on the wallsof the classrooms, I discovered delicate yet dangerous paintings of U.S. and Iraqi Army uniforms, U.S. helicopters, and various weapons;all outlined in ornately colorful and seemingly gently flowing flowers. These images leapt off the walls amongst the shadowy rooms and crept across the cold dimly lit concrete like nocturnal animals when suddenly illuminated in the night.
I continued through the dark dingy hallway, which led to the unknown.I blindly stumbled through the darkness of the hall and into the cafeteria. Suddenly, like moths, my eyes were instinctively drawn to the light of the gaping hole in the ceiling. The remains of the ceiling covered most of the floor, re-bar stuck out like broken bone. Behind the buffet line I saw discarded Iraqi Army gear, sprawled out, covering piles of schoolwork. Army helmets seemed to bask in the sun amongst a sea of report cards and school records like turtles in a lake on a warm summer day. I then realized that the school had been shut down and Iraqi children not allowedan education, just so the Iraqi Army could escape American bombers. A lot of good that did. All types of schoolwork littered the ground: science papers, journals, textbooks,even report cards and attendance records. I felt horrible for thechildren that could no longer receive an education because of this war, which plagued their country. I then became deeply appreciative of the education that I received and realized how lucky I was to receive an education in a peaceful community, and promised myself that I would take full advantage of the educational opportunities afforded to me once I got home.
Reflecting back on this little destroyed school and seeing the enemy propaganda on the walls gives me an astonishingly surreal feeling. I tried but I cannot imagine how it must have felt being taught about foreign military uniforms and weapons in school, let alone how terrifying being invaded by that same foreign country would have been. That is because when I was a child going to school I learned about literacy, math, and the arts; I never once had to fear the invasion of my country or dealt with the risk of being blown up on my way to school.
My favorite memory of Iraq came during a civil affairs mission in the city of Salmon Pak, southeast of Baghdad. The day was miserably hot, with temperatures exceeding 120 degrees. Our mission: to pull security at multiple locations while local sheiks’ held important meetings concerning the building of irrigation canals to restore water service in the area. Of the many stops that day, one turned out to be a soccer field, near the future site of a water treatment plant. Our convoy arrived at approximately a quarter past three in the afternoon. The sun continued to scorch the earth, stealing from the land any ounce of moisture, nearly robbing me of my sanity; Coupled with my gear weighing in excess of 50 pounds, which gave me the feeling of being trapped in a fiery brick oven. Sweat poured down my face, stinging my eyes, blurring my vision. Dust mixed with sweat, the strong smell of diesel fuel, andtopped like a cherry on a sundae with the stench of distant burning waste, left a delicious taste in my mouth. Our brakes squealed in agony under the massive weight of the heavily armored trucks. Thick dust filled the air, which temporarily obstructed our vision of the field making me a little nervous. This area had a reputation for sniper attacks.
We parked in a staggered line formation, the gunners facing alternate directions providing full 360 degree security. At first the only sound was the steady idle of the diesel engine and the pathetic attempt of the air conditioner to cool us, by blowing hot air. Then we heard it.
The cheers of the Iraqi children erupted as they saw our convoy through the dust. I recall seeing the smiles strike across battle harden soldiers’ faces at the delight of these excited children and the joy I felt myself, we felt welcomed by these children. In some areas soldiers have been known to carry food, water, and occasionally toys for the local children. However, onto the first order of business, secure the area. The soldiers pulling security came armed with massive .50 caliber machine guns. Once secure, the meetings began. While the sheik leaders discussed pressing topics, the children from the soccer field flocked toward us, surrounding us. They seemed curious and anxious to see what goodies these foreign soldiers wearing so much heavy gear may have brought for them.The children looked like they might die of thirst after playing soccer under the ruthless sun, so the first thing we gave them was an ice-cold case of water. After they ravenously slurped down bottles of water, smiles broke across their faces. Next, we handed out bags of candy, toys, and food, which the children loved.
A charity located in the U.S. heartland sent us a care package containing school supplies in hopes we could hand them out to Iraqi children. The package contained simple items, pencils, paper, crayons, folders, and small backpacks. When the children saw these items they went crazy with excitement. This brought back the vivid memory of the blown up school, causing me to realize the significance of giving these children school supplies. This act was not onlyone of kindness but it gave them hope. Remembering the tremendous joy upon receiving such simple supplies and the Iraqi children’s hope to attend school again really made me appreciate the sheer power of an education.Even now, almost three years later, these powerful memories come rushing back to me and further strengthens my appreciation for literacy. This experience puts my life into perspective and I realize that without writing about this time in my life the significance of this event and the minute details which took place may have been lost forever.Thinking back, I still wish I could have been able to truly help the children in Iraq in a more significant way during my time spent in there.
Fortunately, my experiences with the school and my interaction with such unfortunate children sparked my interest in reading which in turn reignited my passion for writing, like the flint in a lighter puts sparks to a flame. Now I also enjoy reading books more than ever. I became infatuated with reading while deployed, after reading The Shining by Stephen King. Reading became fun again, I then read It, The Green Mile, The Stand, and ’Salem’s Lot by Stephen King. I also read many comedies, to include The Zombie Survival Guide, World War Z, and the Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy. I love reading books and forming pictures in my mind of who and what I think the characters represent, then seeing the movie based on the book and comparing my idea’s with the director’s view. I enjoy living vicariously through my imagination using the author’s words and descriptions. I can travel back in time, rob a bank, and I can even shoot zombies in the face if I want.
Finally, the prevalence of literacyin so many facets of everyday life led me to take literacy for granted. Thankfully, thelittle Iraqi schoolhas given me a whole new appreciation and perspective on literacy and education; the realization which came from this experience will remain with me forever. I definitely do not think that I would be the same person I am now without this new perspective, and I would not have realized many of my dreams. Thanks to my deployment reading and writing have become so much more important to me now.