Organica: February 2011

I highly disagree with statements such as "I am blind, I don't see color" or when people claim that my scarf or my olive skin doesn't make them in the least bit curious. Most of the time, at least where I live, people are quiet. They'll rather keep their curious thoughts to themselves in fear of coming off racist, too inquisitive and offensive. On the rare occasion, I'll meet a socially inept individual who has no issues bluntly inquiring about my race, culture or the cave I emerged from.

I am well aware that when I meet a novel person, they have a set of prejudices that I MUST prove wrong immediately. Although there is no rule that states 'I MUST' prove everyone wrong,' it becomes a personal burden to disprove, dismantle and erase these prejudices and replace with new facts. But it's proven to be a tricky and nerve-wrecking process.

Some have advised me to resort to humor whenever possible. So when approached about my origins I should make up a fake heritage for my amusement such as: "Oh, where I'm from, you ask? I'm part Irish, German, and Polish, yourself?" And go on until I confuse the heck out of the tactless individual, and have a good laugh on their expense.

Certainly, when someone meets me from the first time their assumptions can be true. Portions of my life consist of your typical Arab/Middle Eastern stereotypes. I happen to be Arab; I've lived in the Middle East; I don't eat red meat; I am familiar with Indian cuisine; I cover my hair in public; I speak Arabic; I can belly dance; I cook Middle Eastern food; English is not my parent's mother tongue; I have family abroad; I do have friends who are brown/olive skinned; and a few bearded/niqabi/hijabi/'ETHNIC' friends.

I recall my freshman year in college, my 'White' friends were shocked to hear me curse. "I never thought you were allowed to curse?!" or when I revealed to my high school teacher I planned to apply for college: "You are?" Or when I am asked about Afghani culture because we are all 'connected' somehow.

I won't lie and claim that I've grown used to these assumptions. On the contrary, I've grown rather annoyed and paranoid. The other day I received an email from a former professor. In the body of the email, there was a scholarship and research opportunity with enticing benefits. I was pleased the professor recalled who I was and made me this offer. As I reread the email, something caught my eye: the word 'minorities.' {Insert epicfail hashtag here}

To say the least, I was crushed. I've worked so hard all my life to make strides on my 'own' merit, not my skin color or what my genes have determined. Is equality too much to ask in 2011?

I've been spoken down to by people in my professional and personal life. Perhaps my paranoia have been played up by these past events, but I find them all difficult to be 'accidental.' When someone asks if I eat red meat (assuming I am Hindu)? or if my parents have already arranged my marriage? And how if I wear that 'thing' to show respect for my husband? And...the list goes on, I want to scream: LEAVE ME ALONE. I don't find myself wondering so much about my Caucasian friends' origins. Why are they worried about mine?

I will say though, it's fun to see people's perception of me as a person change. I shared with one of my counselors my anxiety over attending an event out of state with no other Muslim women in sight. The counselor's advice was simple: "When someone approaches you about your scarf, and questions why you wear it, simply say: 'I am so sorry, is it bothering you?' and walk away."

I feel much more empowered over the past year or so. I've grown more vocal; I've become better at quick comebacks and I've managed to turn ugly situations into funny ones. I've also grown to accept that I'll always be different, and that's okay.

P.S: In case you were wondering, I do take my scarf off in the shower.