They came, “the masses,” so they have been called. They were inhabitants from all over the world, and they all had a common goal, to reach Ellis Island. Ellis Island, New York, America. America was the great hope, and many were willing to take the long treacherous journey by ship for what could amount to a month or longer to reach that hope. For some, however, hope was lost. Entrance into America was not always guaranteed once reaching Ellis Island. One of the main reasons for rejection was due to physical ailments. Ailments as minor as an eye infection would be cause for rejection. Hope had vanished with these rejections, but for the people who were to be admitted, that hope became a realization. Some of these people would reject their cultures and traditions to become Americans, while others would hold on to their traditions for years to come.
I will not change who I am, I will not hide who I am, I will not cower. That is how I felt after September 11, 2001. September 11, 2001 was so horrific, and incomprehensible, that I wish I could claim that it was only a bad dream. Wishful thinking will not, however, change the reality. I am of Arab descent, and the reality, though not as dreadful as what happened to the victims of 9/11, and this wonderful country, is that it has made many Arab Americans cautious about divulging their heritage. Though I am cautious, and truly thankful that I am an American, I cannot and will not be embarrassed of or neglect my heritage.
As a child I was raised in a small town in Massachusetts. The population in town was predominantly English, Irish and Swedish. Try being the only Arab family in that small Massachusetts town in the 1960’s. Many of my classmates were not even aware of the Middle East never mind its inhabitants. My grandparents came from Lebanon in the early 1900’s, worked hard and loved America. America afforded them many opportunities that Lebanon did not, and they certainly did not take anything this country had to offer for granted. Although they loved this country, they were truly proud of their heritage, and instilled in their offspring a sense of Lebanese pride that was to carry on for generations to come.
I remember being eight years old and in the third grade. We were studying an English lesson that consisted of a story about a boy from Lebanon. My excitement was beyond belief. Finally, someone with the same heritage as mine was to be introduced, through reading, to my classmates. The reading introduced the class to a word that was the traditional Arab welcome when someone enters a home, Ahlan Wa Sahlan (welcome). Ahlan Wa Sahlan is a greeting to be repeated until the tongue becomes numb. Arabs always pride themselves on making their guests feel welcomed. Suddenly, excitement was about to overwhelm my mind. While the teacher was reading the story, she stumbled upon the word with the look of puzzlement. She had no idea of its pronunciation. Looking back on it now, I believe she should have taken the time to prepare before introducing the story to the class. I volunteered to pronounce the word. Success! I became an instant celebrity. Everyone in the class was amazed by the guttural sound that was emitted from my mouth, and they kept asking me to repeat the phrase. Ahlan Wa Sahlan, Ahlan Wa Sahlan, Ahlan Wa Sahlan. But soon my excitement was short lived.
The 70’s arrived and Lebanon was on the map. Finally, we were recognized, and many of my classmates and the people in town realized where and what Lebanon really was. Ahlan Wa Sahlan. The only problem, its recognition was brought about by war. War had broken out in Lebanon, and the world was aware. Then came the 80’s and the word terrorism was equated with Arab. How ironic, that I struggled to explain my heritage to many who had no idea of its existence, then when recognition finally arrived, it was equated with terrorism and war.
