Dear World, I kindly ask you to refrain from interrogating my children about their origins. My son’s name is Zayd, and while he doesn’t speak Arabic, he was born right here in Australia. Although I wasn’t, he can recite verses from the Quran and knows every word to the latest pop hits. He embodies a delightful mix of cultures, and I cherish that uniqueness. I don’t want to label my children, nor do I want society to pigeonhole them.
It’s become all too frequent that well-intentioned strangers approach Zayd with the question, “Where are you from?” I refer to them as “well-intentioned” in an effort to stay optimistic, but it often leaves me feeling frustrated.
You may wonder, what’s wrong with such a simple inquiry? The issue lies in the fact that no matter how he responds, it never seems to suffice. If he says “Australia,” he’s met with raised eyebrows. After all, I wear a hijab, and he has olive skin and dark hair. If he states “Lebanon” (despite the fact that we’ve never even set foot in that country—my birthplace), the next question is, “So when did you move to Australia?” His response? “I was born here,” and thus begins the cycle of uncomfortable, probing questions.
Please, just stop.
Recently, I had a particularly awkward encounter. At my children’s sports day, a woman I didn’t know approached me:
Her: “Are you Sarah’s mom?”
Me: “Yes, I’m Maysaa. And you are?”
Her: “But you’re wearing a hijab! And Sarah speaks English so well.” (I literally had to pick my jaw up off the floor.)
Me: “Yes, she’s incredibly talented. She hasn’t caught hijabitis.”
And then I walked away. Why should my daughter be defined by what I choose to wear? It baffles me that, even in this modern age, our first impressions are often shaped by appearance. Each of us has a unique story, some more complex than others, but every narrative is deserving of respect. My children’s story is nuanced, and I don’t want my son to feel the need to explain himself by saying:
“I’m from Australia. I was born here, just like my dad. My mom came here when she was three, so you could say she’s practically a local. Want to see our citizenship papers? And thanks for noticing my excellent English—being Muslim doesn’t stop my brain from functioning.”
The unfairness of it all becomes even more apparent when I consider his friend, Liam, who hails from Ireland. His family moved to Australia eight years ago, yet he’s never asked where he comes from. I suspect that Liam’s name and appearance are perceived as “normal” in our community, which creates a disparity for my son. One day, he’ll realize this injustice, and I’ll struggle to provide him with logical answers.
For now, I will continue to share the complexity of human experiences with my children. I’ll emphasize that life is a rich and multifaceted journey. I’ll teach them that their worth is based on their actions and character. Ultimately, I want them to understand that they are part of this beautiful planet and belong to Team Humanity. If you’re interested in more insights on parenting and family dynamics, check out this post on our blog.
In today’s world, it’s essential to embrace diversity and acknowledge that every individual has a unique story. Together, let’s work towards a society where our children can be proud of their backgrounds without the weight of unnecessary queries.
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