I started the eighth grade normally in Odelzhausen. It was a beginning filled with many hopes. First of all, I hoped that we would remain in Germany. My other wish was that I would be able to focus on the important things in school, namely getting over my mediocrity in German and mathematics, while continuing to do well in my strong subjects such as English and Roman-Catholic religion, as well as the social sciences, in which I had begun to really thrive in the previous year. There was a problem with our previous class teacher; therefore we got a new one, who had just returned to Germany after extended time in India. She was extremely strict, almost authoritarian. She did not simply refer to herself as a Lehrerin (female teacher), but insisted that she was a Lehrkraft (literally, teaching power).That was difficult for someone as free-spirited and rebellious as I have always been to deal with. Respect for and obedience to authority were things that I have rejected for as long as I can remember. Needless to say, there was quite a bit of tension, not only between her and me, but she had similar problems with a majority of the students early on. That was the one and only reason that I was glad to leave the country.

A month or so into the school year, all four of us in the family had to take a day off, in order to go to the above-mentioned interview at the American embassy, which was well-guarded and had strict procedures for those who entered it.. The people there told us immediately that we were approved to move to the US.  At that point, our fate had been decided for us. Usually when we told people about our situation of having to leave Germany after all the years we spent there, they were sad and angry at their own government. However, when my mother told the class teacher about it, the latter reacted in a cold and calm manner that was quite shocking. Even my classmates, many of whom had been harassing me just months before, were visibly filled with sadness and anger when they found out shortly thereafter. She then told them to be “reasonable,” which shocked me even more.

We spent our last week or so in Germany with my mother’s boss and his family, whom we had befriended. Those were quite emotional days, beginning with the farewell party that took place in the church where my father had worked. It happened on a Saturday and all the friends and family we had in Germany came. The building was truly packed. There was plenty of food for all tastes. There were dishes from the Balkans, Germany, and international food as well. There was meat, but plenty of dishes without it as well. The minister of the church made a short, but appropriate speech, praising my father’s work ethic and reliability. He also quoted the Bible; I remember only that it was a short piece about Abraham, whom he stressed as the figure who bound together the two faiths in our family: Christianity and Islam.  Though my parents are not religious themselves, they still appreciated the gesture. Then my father gave a speech, expressing our family’s gratitude to everyone who had supported us during our time there. We also received gifts, such as books about the United States in general, as well as Georgia and Atlanta in particular. That was largely all in terms of planned activities. For the rest of the time, we were at our tables, eating, talking, and taking pictures.

On the night of November 15, 2000, we went on our way. There was a specific route we had to take. We needed to take a flight from Frankfurt to New York City, before moving on to Atlanta. An acquaintance drove us from Odelzhausen to Frankfurt in his truck. We took our flight to New York the next morning, where we arrived within about ten hours. After my parents took care of the necessary paperwork, we were free to take the next flight to Atlanta. My aunt, uncle, and cousin met us at the airport there and took us to their home in Lawrenceville, Georgia. From the time we drove off to Frankfurt to the time we arrived in the house in Lawrenceville, well over 24 hours had passed.

We lived with our relatives for more than four months. During our stay there, our differences in terms of personality came to the forefront from time to time. It was not an easy period for anybody involved. But from my point of view at least, the worst thing of all was my time at Richard’s Middle School.

I was enrolled there just before Thanksgiving break and had an interview with the teachers running the Special Needs class on the last day before they went to break .We agreed (though reluctantly) that I would have regular classes only half a day for the first month, while I would stay with them for the other half and that we would meet again after it was over. I do not think that I was ever treated with less dignity and basic respect prior to my arrival at Richard’s.  In Odelzhausen, I was the only one with a disability, and therefore the faculty and staff did not know to treat me differently than they treated the other students. There is no doubt that it is better to have students with disabilities in the same schools and with the opportunity to attend the same classes as everyone else, rather than to put them into specialized schools, as is the case in Germany and probably in many other European countries. However, when students with purely physical disabilities are not clearly distinguished from those with serious mental disabilities, then those of us in the first category have to overcome many stereotypes and prejudices. Virtually all of the Special Needs teachers, as well as a few others, treated me not like an almost-high school student, but instead like a kindergarten kid, with no sense of dignity, privacy, or self-respect.

By the time my transportation to and from school was in place, it was already well into December, so that the meeting to evaluate my first month took place on my birthday in January. The Special Needs people agreed to let me attend all regular classes, but they talked to all of my teachers often, seemingly desperate to see me make mistakes. I felt that pressure very strongly and it caused continued tension between them on one side and my parents and me on the other. They insisted that I use a wheelchair to move from class to class instead of my walker. It was the first time in my life I had to use a wheelchair. Given that both the Peto  method and my doctors in Aschau  had instilled in me the idea that I needed to be independent, meaning that I had to walk on my own two feet no matter what, it was a tremendous blow to my self-confidence and gave me the feeling that I had suddenly hit rock bottom. Up to that point, I had always been told that one of my biggest aims in life should be never to end up in a wheelchair. I could have understood it to a degree, if the issue were simply to make it to my classes on time. But no, their issue was safety. More precisely, it was their safety from being sued in case something happened to me. They were furious at me whenever I dared to take a few steps with my walker without their closest supervision.

My father was hired as an AutoCAD drafter at a pipeline company and my mother became an occasional substitute teacher, in the school system, with the hope of later becoming a full-time teacher of either English as a Second Language or German. In April, we finally found an apartment of our own in Lawrenceville. It was quite dirty, full of insects, and the neighbors were mostly uneducated and annoying.  It was clear that the place was going to be just a temporary stay for us, until we could afford something better. Thankfully that would be the case very soon, as my mother would be hired as a German teacher at the prestigious Parkview High School in nearby Lilburn. She would be able to start working there the following school year. Due to my disability, I was able to choose the high school I wanted to go to and I had already chosen Berkmar, after having gone there on one of our field trips to high schools. It had elevators and it seemed easier to for me to get around than the other ones I had seen.  Luckily, it was also located in Lilburn, not far from Parkview.

Due to the extreme lack of schoolwork that I had to do, I had more leisure time than ever before in my student life. During this period, I finally developed a love for reading, which my parents had for years tried to instill in me. I read whatever books I could get my hands on. That included, among other things, the German translations of The Man in the Iron Mask by Alexandre Dumas, and Nick Hornby’s About a Boy. I also developed a strong interest in computer programing, which meant that some of the first English language books I read were about C++ programing.

Other notable things that took place in this period were that I got word that I had passed the Gateway Writing Test, which is the main standardized test for middle school students in Georgia. Everyone at school was shocked, because I had taken it just a few months after I came to the country and passed a test that was difficult even for native speakers. My parents and I expected the positive result, however, due to the fact that essays had always been one of my strengths. I received an award for “Outstanding English as a Second Language Student” at the end of that school year. Interestingly, the envelope with the invitation to the awards ceremony was already open, before I had the chance to see it. I assume the Special Needs teachers (who had access to my school bag) must have been very curious when they saw a letter from the principal’s office among my things. Knowing that they were always eager to find out something negative about me, I would have loved to have seen their faces when they saw what the letter actually was. Needless to say, I was glad that I did not to have to put up with them any longer after the school year was over, and I would not be surprised if the feeling was mutual. Besides school and my reading, I also continued to follow soccer. My favorite team, Bayern Munich, won the German league title with literally the last kick of the last game (which I listened to via online radio), before lifting the European Champions League a few days later in an equally dramatic fashion. About two months later, I watched one of my childhood heroes, Croatian tennis legend Goran Ivanišević, win Wimbledon.

 Otherwise, that summer was mostly about finding a house in Lilburn. The most important features we wanted were firstly that my brother and I would have separate rooms for the first time in our lives, and secondly that there was a pool. After viewing several homes, my parents found one that not only had these things, but was also reasonably close to both the Parkview and Berkmar High Schools. That meant that in August, we would move for the third time in eight months.

Next Chapter: High School