My mother washed my face. She was proud of me. I was wearing my school uniform. It was the first day of school. . The oldest one of her 5 children; her only son was starting school. She embraced me. I was the only hope of her. I came out for the school. Quad of the our house was too crowded. It seemed as if all neighborhood residents was gathered there. While older children were eating breakfast, younger ones were tied to their mother's apron strings. They were crying for fear of the first day of school. Because older children were telling us stories about the school. "The teacher beats us with a cornel stick". "They inoculate us with a huge enjector." These rumours were frightening us about the school. Moreover, many children were dropping out school before their 5th years. Mothers were happy when their children learned reading and writing. Nobody was hoping their children to have a better education. It wasn't possible for them to be a doctor or a teacher. It was impossible.
-Mom, i am going with my friends, i said. We went to the sward with my friends. It was behind the neighbourhood. People living in Samsun always used to come there for picnic. This place was used as a hippodrome before. There were also abatis. There was a sentry who we named as Pala. We were afraid of him. We were walking along the sward to school. Our school was a new school. We were grouped class by class in the garden of the school. We were in the same class with my 9 friends from the neighbourhood. Our friendship was strange for the other children. They were afraid of us a little bit. Who knows what were they thinking about us? There wasn't any teacher yet. Beause the school was new. An other student from 5th class were trying to teach us reading and writing. However he could only stop us running and fighting eachother in the school. Older children were insulting us with sentences starting with the word Gypsy. Because of this, we were fighting with them in the garden.
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There have been a big flood a few weeks later. So we couldn't go to the school for a month. When we started the school again, a teacher had been appointed to the school at the end! We were stil not able to use even a pencil. The teacher were forcing us to work for making up for the time we lost because of the big flood. We were sitting together in the back of classroom as 9 Gypsy children.
One day, our teacher asked: "Who will write its name and be a part of hardworking students' groups?". Ali who sits infront of us went to blackboard. He wrote "ALİ AK". The teacher praised him. I was sorry that my name was too long. Metin Özbaskıcı. However, i had to write my name and had to be a part of hardworking students' group. At that night, i worked too much. Next morning i said our teacher: -Sir, i could write my name. He seperated me from my older friends. I was sitting on a front desk with hardworking students now. I went to my older friends at time-out. Teacher said me to sit down on my new desk again with a little anger. I was happy with the care of my teacher. All my neighbours and relatives started to believe that i was so clever after this event. They were hoping me to be a doctor. I was trying to be more hardworking.
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My rapscallion's son Raci was beating at desk as such he was playing a drum. He didn't understand at the moment the teacher had just came. Teacher asked him: -What is happening here? Are you drum-player of the Gypsies? We flushed. We felt like everybody was looking at us. We were about to cry. We were already suspicious when someone loses its pencils or erasers...
It was too difficult to be a Gypsy. As if everybody have the right to mock at us. Many of our friends have dropped of school with these feelings. I insist on going school. I motivated my friends saying that "We are more clever than many of them." Even i felt lowly and humiliated, i was warning my friends not to make anymistake in the school. However, we were beating other children at streets to take revenge on...
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