Here lies my passion

To understand the concept of deservingness is to uncover the determinant power of societal perception when it comes to which communities receive attention, resources, and protection. It's about recognizing why Western conflicts garner more media coverage and public outcry than the genocides in brown and Black countries, despite their severity or duration. It’s the looming clouds that overcast the disproportionate BIPOC patient deaths and medical risk in America, especially when it comes to maternal health and childhood diagnoses. It's what exposes the selective outrage over certain human rights violations in some countries while others go unnoticed.

All to say my steadfast opposition to this trope of deservingness, and its presentation within my own communities, has been the driver of my passion in public health, long before I even knew the term. 

Much of what shapes my worldview can be traced back to my upbringing. I've been fortunate to have an incredibly supportive family; as the youngest daughter of Egyptian immigrants, I've always been encouraged to pursue my dreams without hesitation. If it weren’t my parents encouraging my passions, it was my older sisters who continuously led by example. As I grew up my family defined my community. Despite moving frequently during my childhood, the feeling of loneliness never lingered as my family was my anchor, and our culture was always celebrated. This sense of identity and belonging has been invaluable to me; there was never a question of where my heritage lay.

Moreso, I was raised with the privilege of accessible healthcare, financial stability, and quality public education. This isn’t to say that my family never went through hardship - we did - but a sense of security and protection was always upheld, no matter our current circumstances. Though I always envisioned myself becoming a doctor, it wasn't until high school that I could give a better reason than “I want to help people”. As I became more politically aware during the 2016 and 2020 elections, my worldly views expanded as I became cognizant of the systemic issues that affect marginalized communities, plaguing Middle Eastern and Muslim populations - my communities - both locally and abroad. Humanitarian and health disparities sat at the forefront of inequitable practices.

My interest in public health was sparked as I applied to UNC and Gillings. However, it wasn’t until the summer of 2023, that I truly solidified my passion. That summer I got to partake in an independent study project in Kisumu, Kenya. I will forever be grateful for the community health workers I met on the ground (shoutout Fred Misach) because they showed me what it truly meant to serve the community. Having worked with youth in hospitals, reform homes, schools, and rehabilitation centers, my passion no longer lies in the medical field but rather in public health and education. I don’t believe you can fix a system you work so hard to be a part of hence why, with healthcare access and equity as my goal, I no longer want to practice medicine but instead work to find and employ public health solutions. Change demands systemic solutions and advocacy for healthcare access and equity.

MERA became the platform by which I can serve in this capacity, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

 I would be remiss not to mention my fellow executive directors, Bilal and Tala. Before we started MERA together, we were friends who were just pre-health and passionate. As one year their junior, they acted as, and continue to be, my role models as I recognize the fervent passion within me reflected in them. As narcissistic as it may sound, I truly think we, surrounded by a supportive network of friends and family, are bound for success and motivated enough to make MERA matter. We are determined to be change-makers.

I am so proud of the service we’ve already taken part in and excited for everything in store. I have found myself moved to tears by our milestones, as they affirm our purpose and fuel our determination to make an impact. I pray for an ever-promising future. 

In the words of Ismatu Gwendolyn, an inspiring woman of wisdom:

“[My community,] their existence compels me to not be satisfied or desolate with the state of the world around me. I am determined to hand [off] a softer world…I realize that I am working towards a world that I cannot see, looking past what I can, in the faith that one day, it's inevitable. The pursuit of freedom is not just good for me, it's what's good for my neighbors to the left of me, the neighbors to the right of me, and the generations to come….Your politic is designed to compel you to action. 

I don't do this sh*t willy-nilly, I want to make the world better.”



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Dual Identities: A Palestinian-American Journey