The lens through which I see the world

I want to dedicate this post today to my own journey through privilege, race, identity, fragility, and activism. Growing up Arab and Muslim in the US, pre and post 9/11, I’ve been on this journey for a long time. However, I’m realizing I’m still very new to this journey. I live in a strange reality where I'm both white and not white. Throughout my life I’ve grappled with this dichotomy of identity. I often talk about it jokingly, saying things like “I’m white when it’s convenient and Arab when it suits me,” but it’s not a joke that I’m struggling so hard to recognize my own place in this world. I’ve faced racism and Islamophobia, Xenophobia, sexism, while at the same time experiencing privilege, white fragility, and colorblindness. I learn something new every day. I see so much more by being able to move between the groups (white vs person of color) but I often don’t feel like I fit in any one of them. Recently someone said that creating an inclusive environment is about allowing people to be their complete, authentic selves. When I was reflecting on this statement, I realized I’ve rarely felt comfortable being my authentic self. Mostly, it’s because I’m not sure who my authentic self is. This is not a new experience for me. My previous therapist wanted to focus on my cultural split quite a bit, but I wasn’t ready to do so at the time. I wish I had been, because now it’s all I can think about. I never feel truly Arab, but I don’t identify as white. I worry both that people will see me as a white person and that they’ll see me as a scary POC. I worry that people don’t know I’m Arab, but at the same time I worry that when they do, they’ll see me differently. I recognize the privilege in this. I don’t have dark skin, so I can walk through the world with less fear than my darker skinned friends. They don’t have the option of appearing white, they are always seen as the “other.” Every experience they have is through the lens of someone seeing their race, whereas I get to sometimes be “colorblind.” Yet at the same time, I often feel like my experiences aren’t as valid, or I wonder if things that happen are due to my being an Arab/Muslim, since I don’t know if people even know that I am. I sometimes think about wearing hijab specifically so that people know I’m Muslim. I want them to see me, and know me, and treat me the way they’re going to treat me. Yet this kind of motivation isn’t really the point of hijab. And of course, I’m terrified of the response I’d get. This is part of the lens through which I see the world. I’ve found it very handy to be white and not white though, since I feel like I can relate and talk to both groups. I can bring up issues other people might not feel safe enough doing. I can be a “safe person” for my friends who are white to ask questions, and for my friends of color to talk to. It is also an obligation though, to use my place to amplify the voices of the unheard or unseen. I hope to do that partially through this blog. Stay tuned for more