Samimah Naiemi ’25 persisted through war, exile, and adjusting to a new culture to pursue of her dreams of college. In doing so, she also found community.

In October 2023, Naiemi shared her story as part of the “Purpose and Place: Voices of Middlebury” event during the campus launch of For Every Future: The Campaign for Middlebury. 

Watch Naiemi’s talk above or read the transcript below.

Transcript

“What happens to a dream deferred?

“Does it dry up, like a raisin in the sun?” asks Langston Hughes. One of my biggest dreams when I was a little girl was going to college.

And it did come true when I got admitted at American University of Afghanistan. And that was the happiest day in my life. Three months after my admission at American University of Afghanistan, one day, I remember we are sitting in this class. We are sitting traditionally in a circle and I am sitting near Bilal and Sitaish, the two classmates I love the most.

And the professor is giving lecture on normative ethics. So most of us love the subject, and we are all focused. Then all of a sudden a very loud voice shattered our focus.

It was so loud that the marker fell down from the professor’s hand. So we all started panicking. And so I just run outside the door and I hesitated whether to follow her or stay still. Professor ran and closed the door and asked everybody to sit down or hide themselves under a table or something.

I was panicking. I didn’t know what was going on.

So I, out of curiosity, I just ran to the window to see what was happening and I did see what I couldn’t believe. I look up, I see students from upper floors trying to jump down, while I see down: some already smashed on the ground.

“Samimah, it’s not safe. A bullet might come from outside and hit, you close the window,” the professor yells from behind. So I closed the window and I sit down. In a minute, somebody kicks the door open and I see three men entering the door with black masks all over their face and their guns strapped around their shoulders. So I just closed my eyes and rested my head on the wall.

And I don’t remember how many hours passed by. When I opened my eyes, I found myself on the ground near the professor’s body, but everything was so blurry I couldn’t see anything clearly.

So I lost most of my friends and professors, and the situation like that started getting worse and worse in my country.

And that memory was the last memory I had from American University of Afghanistan. So the situation started to get worse and worse until one day, the regime was going to change.

And the change in regime not only meant more explosion and more war in the country, but it also meant no more schooling, no traveling, no jobs, even no stepping out of the house allowed for women.

So after sleepless nights, constantly thinking about my uncertain future, one early morning I woke up with a text from my high school friend and the text says, “We are leaving the country. Send me a copy of your passport and be at the airport soon.” 

Without even asking where we were going and how and all, I just grabbed my passport and my little brother accompanied me and we rushed to the airport.

It happened in such a rush that before I left the country, I couldn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to any of my family members.

So the next day I left the country with a military plane like everybody else who left the country at that time in August 2021.

And the next day I found myself in a refugee camp in Qatar with this new identity: an exile, a refugee.

So from the refugee camp in Qatar, I found my way to Rwanda and then finally to Middlebury the following next six months.

When I came to Middlebury, I was excited about the College, but at the same time I was nervous because it’s a whole new country, even a new educational system.

So many things were new here, right?

For example, in Afghanistan, back home when I would go to class or to schools, professor would give lectures and explain everything in the lecture. But to my surprise, in Middlebury, I would do tons of reading for each class, all in a second language, so challenging already.

But then to my surprise, I would go to class and I find everybody sitting in a circle and already discussing the the readings.

So our classes were more discussion based rather than lecture based. And I found it very overwhelming.

And I didn’t know anyone, right? I was new here. So I started feeling not only overwhelmed, but very lonely. Until one day I received an email from my very dear professor, professor Susan Burch. She was my advisor, too.

And the email says, “Dear Samimah, I hope you are doing well.” And the title of the email is “Checking in.” And she is like, “I was wondering if you have a few minutes to go on a walk with me or have a cup of coffee with me, or just get a meal with me.”

And I’m literally staring at the email for minutes with surprise.

Well, it was surprising for me because professors in my culture, professors don’t make that close relationship with their students. They keep distance. So I was so surprised. And I’m a Feb student, which means I arrived here in February, which was freezing cold.

But because I got so excited about this email and I’m like, “Yes, I wanna go on a walk.”

So the next day I remember I wore this little cute new coat of mine and we are going to the walk.

So we walk all the way to the town and to the boba shop and grabbed a cup of boba tea. It was my first time trying boba.

So then she was asking me, how is everything going and how you are doing, how you’re adjusting? And I literally almost started complaining to her about the workload and the readings and how much work they’re giving us.

And she is like, “Yeah, I can recall that.”

And she told me even a story of her experience of going to college. And from her stories I realized she had been through almost the same journey, same workloads, same struggle. 

And after hearing her story, I started feeling very connected to her. I met her more often in her office.

And like that, I started feeling more comfortable with people.

And I met so many friends in a very little time, not only with students, even with people in working in dining hall, the staff.

And I started making my relationship more closer with my other professors.

And that’s how I met Professor Hector Vila, who became one of my very favorite professors then. I would go to his office and spend sometimes not only minutes, but hours, talking about what I like, what I dislike, and what’s going on. And he would listen. Poor guy spending hours listening to all the nonsense I would tell him.

He even invited me and the other seven Afghan students at Middlebury to his house. And we met his beautiful wife and his grandchildren. 

Fast forward the following winter, I remember one day I was so busy my sophomore year that I couldn’t get any of my meals that day.

I had so much work. So when I finished the classes and my job, I grabbed my box of food, and I’m rushing to my dorm.

And on the way again, I bumped to this very favorite professor of mine, Professor Hector Vila. And he is like, “Why are you running with a box of your food in your hand?”

And I’m like, “Professor, I’m going home to eat. I couldn’t get any of my meals today. I was so busy.”

And he is like, “I love it when you call your dorm home.” I said, “Well, I feel peace there.”

So we chatted for a bit and then I went to my room and I had my food, and then I jumped to my bed to lay down and rest for a bit.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation I had with Professor Hector Vila earlier.

I wondered: if I told him that I called my dorm home because that’s where I feel peace, I wondered what I would call my country, Afghanistan, where there’s an ongoing war since I was born and raised, and there’s no peace.

But then I realized when I said peace, I did not mean peace in terms of security condition in a country.

Peace to me is something, the sense that I carry inside me.

By peace, I mean the sense that I belong, that the people around me want me to grow intellectually and as a human being.

Middlebury is where my dreams are, no longer deferred. And that’s why I call Middlebury home. 

Thank you.