Dual Identities: A Palestinian-American Journey
Growing up a child in the diaspora is a struggle that has defined and shaped my entire life. From a young age, it has instilled a multitude of traits that have been the backbone of my identity as a Palestinian-American. Growing up while most kids had the weekend off, I attended Islamic and Arabic school, while most kids attended birthday parties, I attended protests for Palestine, while most kids could easily visit their grandparents or native country, I longed to return to Palestine and see my grandparents' villages.
This narrative isn't about painting my childhood as different from others; rather, it aims to underscore that, from a young age, Palestinian children are purposefully instilled with a profound sense of the importance of our heritage. In a world where the Palestinian community faces escalating violence and adversity, our legacy is kept alive by none other than our children. They hold the responsibility of ensuring our heritage survives through traditions and generations, even in the face of the increasing challenges we confront.
I remember visiting Palestine for the first time as a freshly turned twelve-year-old with my family, entering Palestine via the Jordanian bridge and seeing the scary barbed wire, the endless separation wall, countless checkpoints, and IDF soldiers. At an age when most children remain blissfully ignorant of global and humanitarian issues, I stood at the intersection of identity, acutely aware of the risks associated with entering occupied Palestinian territory, my American passport bearing the dual weight of privilege and complexity.
It was a conflict of identities—one where my American citizenship granted me universal access, while my Palestinian heritage exposed me to potential scrutiny and mistreatment. Even in the innocence of youth, I struggled to understand the complexity and implications of my dual identity, a tension that would continue to shape my understanding of the world and my place within it.
Leveraging this privilege, I became involved in charity work from a young age, participating in activities with social advocacy groups and supporting organizations like the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund. My aim was to use my identity as a means to actively contribute and bring about tangible change in the lives of those I identify with, even if they are located across the globe. My experiences as a first-generation Palestinian has shaped my place in society. I write this not to dwell on the struggles first-generation Palestinian-Americans encounter, but to shed light on the less-discussed challenge of finding our place in society. Utilizing my access to resources to uplift and serve my community has become an essential part of my purpose– a journey that continues to unfold as I navigate the intricate tapestry of my heritage and what's left of it.