King Khalid Islamic College, North Coburg, Friday. The day's sermon had been about Islamic behavior, most notably in times of war. The assembled boys and girls had heard that it is un-Islamic to slaughter the innocent; that it is forbidden to even harass or frighten women, children, old people, priests, nuns, rabbis.

In short, they were told that the wilful insanity of the terrorist-hijackers had nothing to do with the teachings of their Prophet - or what is in their good book, the Koran.

It was a reminder - a formal confirmation - that they weren't the bad guys. Not that they needed any convincing themselves. Rather, many students felt it was a sermon fit for the rest of the world - the grief-stricken, fearful and furious Western world, especially.

The previous day, the school received a bomb threat, two girls from King Khalid were thrown off a city tram by the driver because they were wearing the hijab. Other students said they were abused or spat upon while walking the streets.

It's worth noting that the tram incident was reported by some Catholic schoolgirls who'd seen it happen. Also, when the young fool who called in the bomb threat was traced, his parents immediately called the school's director, Salah Salman, with emotional and apparently deeply felt apologies.

While the ratbag reactionaries are (hopefully) outnumbered by people with good sense and emotional restraint, the school's students - and The Sunday Age met a dozen of them aged 15 to 18, late Friday - say they feel hurt and amazed that they're being seen as "the enemy".

Consider Suad, 18. Watching the horror play out live on television late on Tuesday night, she gave no thought to "who did it or why or what was going to happen ... all we (Suad's family) knew was that a terrible thing had happened. And we're just shocked."

The next day, she found people looking at her differently.

In their head scarves, it is the female students who have taken the brunt of bone-headed scapegoating. As Eman put it: "When I came to school with my little sister, it felt like people were looking at us like we were the enemy. You felt small. You felt ashamed."

Or worse, afraid. Sandra, 17: "There are girls who are seriously frightened." On Thursday and Friday, year 12 boys escorted their "sisters" on trams, and to display themselves as good citizens.

Although some parents have ordered their daughters to stay indoors, college director Salah Salman has been telling his 1100 students to stand tall, carry on as normal, and - most important - to not look frightened.

A shiver of fear in the hearts of little ones

Sunshine Primary School, Friday. Carmel Egan calls her class of eight and nine-year-olds - a healthy mix of colors and creeds - to sit on the carpet at the front.

For days, the children have come one by one with worries about what they've seen on television. Now she wants them to talk it all out, together.

One of the first things Ms Egan asks is: "Can anybody tell me why they think this has happened?"

One little girl says: "Because the Arabics and the Americans aren't friends that much."

Jakes asks: "Why did they only attack America?"

Stuart: "(Because) they're jealous."

Ms Egan asks if anybody knows what "hijack" means? Stuart, sitting near her feet, puts up his hand: "It's like a little bit of blackmail ...you might have a bomb and if they don't let you drive the plane, you'll blow it up."

Ms Egan asks if this is a form of bullying? The class says "YES!" as one.

A burst of chatter makes two things clear: they don't like bullying, and they're scared about what's happening.

Sam(antha) says: "And some people say there might be a war." Other kids have heard this; they want to know what it means.

Long says: "I'm not getting on a plane."

Stuart says it made him angry, seeing the plane crash into that tower.

Luke says it was scary, "because you could imagine how frightened the people on the plane were." This prompts another burst of chattering agreement.

Ms Egan says "What you're feeling for those people is something we've talked about. A word beginning with `c'...anyone remember? Compassion."

She asks if the Americans have the right to fight back, and about the dangers of fighting back. "One rock becomes two rocks..." One little chap voices his thoughts: "Nuke 'em."

Another lad says his mother has an idea: to bring all the nice "Arabics" to Australia "and wipe out all the bad ones".

They stick at the discussion for more than an hour. Then they go to their tables to write sympathy cards.

From Sam, who has been bothered by bad dreams: "To the American people, I hope you get them."

From Stuart: "Dear President George W. Bush, are there going to be more bad things?"

It's worth noting that class 3/4E put their hands up to answer every question, but one: "Who feels that everything will be all right?" The hands stayed down, the room went quiet.