On Monday I arrived at GED tutoring late and still a little jet-lagged, balancing the gigantic Barron's test prep book, a tray of baklava, my whiteboard eraser, and a handful of markers (The awkwardness of this arrangement may have something to do with why so many people use backpacks and book bags, but I have trouble with handsfree devices generally.).
It had occurred to me that the baklava wouldn't be any good during our customary mid-morning snack time, as I expected that the majority of my students would be fasting for Ramadan.
I knew for sure that I'd made a mistake when Elizabeth met my entrance with a sigh and "Emily! It's Ramadan!"
But, no sooner had I repented my faux pas, dangling delectable sweets in front of hungry religious students, than I realized: there were no hungry religious students to resent such dangling. There were no hungry religious students at all. No hungry students of any stripe.
There were no students.
Ramadan is a month to fast from food . . . during the day.
It's a month to abstain from bodily pleasure . . . while the sun is out.
It's a month to recite holy words . . . and watch soap operas.
It's a month to make a private sacrifice to God . . . in an exceptionally public way.
It's apparently not a month for showing up to math class.