Opinions do not necessarily reflect CUIndependent.com or any of its sponsors.
My full name is Domna Fayza Dali. Every time I introduce myself to someone, it always leads to “Wait, what’s your name? How do you spell it? Where does it come from?” It’s actually a great conversation starter. (When I’m not in the mood to have a conversation with someone, “Penelope” is my go-to.)
Domna was the name of my Greek grandmother, and my middle and last name come from my father’s Syrian side. My mother is half Greek, a quarter Scottish and a quarter English. My father is off-the-boat Syrian and my parents actually met in Greece. I grew up in a household where my dad fasted for Ramadan and attended Friday prayers at the local mosque, my superstitious mom wouldn’t let me put shoes or money on the bed because it’s “bad luck” and twice a year we would drive up to my great-grandmother’s house in stoic Vermont where she once had a farm, and whose side of the family makes me 15th generation Mayflower.
For basically my entire life, I suppressed my Arabic heritage because of anti-Arabic prejudice. I was born and raised in Greenwich, Connecticut, a considerably affluent town with very little diversity apart from the white Caucasian majority. After Sept. 11th, 2001, my family and I felt obligated to lie to the general public about my father’s background. When asked what religion he was, we would say Greek Orthodox instead of Muslim. I lied about my background since I was five years old until about the end of high school.
Throughout my life, I’ve experienced the negative stigma attached to being Arabic. In fourth grade, my teacher read our class a fictional story from the local newspaper about a Muslim girl transferring to a school in America and asked our entire class, “Wouldn’t you be scared if a Muslim person came into our school? I know I would be.” As a 10-year-old girl who was keeping that secret, I then first understood how ignorant some people could really be. When I reached high school, a boy found out my real background and posted 10 posts on my Facebook wall of bombing videos and terrorists like Saddam Hussein and Osama Bin Laden. He also called me a terrorist and said I was going to bomb the school. Really pleasant, right?
Once I got to college I decided to embrace my diversity. Instead of sweeping it under the table, I decided to show the general public that Arab people aren’t the way they’re portrayed in the media. Islam is a religion of mercy, forgiveness, respect, love and unity. In fact, the word Islam actually stems from the Arabic root “Salema,” which means peace. The religion is based on praying to God five times a day, fasting for a month to show gratitude and “zakat,” one of the 5 pillars of Islam, which is charity or giving to the needy. Terrorists groups like ISIS are not an accurate representation of Islamic culture. The actions that these people have committed in no way abide by Muslim morals.
In America, we have a tendency to put down minorities and feel a sense of entitlement toward them. Racism is not dead, it’s simply just swept under the table. Even on smartphone applications like “Yik-Yak,” there are constantly ignorant comments about Asians on the CU campus. Yes, the people writing those comments may not be “serious,” but the fact that some of these comments are even written proves that there is still a racist bone in many people’s bodies. I’ve heard students make multiple comments at parties about “the only black kid at the party,” and when they think someone stole something, “it was definitely that black guy.” I’ve watched people give the Muslim women who cover their heads with a hijab on campus really dirty looks.
Despite all of this, there is another way we could all look at minorities. That student in your class who transferred here alone from China while his entire family is still there; why don’t you ask him about his story? Why don’t you learn about people and try to empathize with them instead of judging them? Most of us on the CU campus are not in this country alone. We have homes to go back to on breaks and parents that come to Boulder during family weekend, but not everyone has those privileges.
In fact, we should all be thankful just to be here, in Boulder, Colorado, at an accredited university earning a degree that really puts us on a pedestal compared to those who haven’t attended college. We should feel blessed to be in America, with a roof over our heads, food on the table and clean clothes to change into every morning. My family members in Syria had to leave their home town and move to another country, just to be safe and be able to pay the rent, eat and survive. Here we complain about how “the internet doesn’t load fast enough,” “I’m out of allowance because I spent too much on alcohol this past weekend,” “that lecture was so boring I just went on Facebook the entire time,” “the C4C sucks!”
No one should have to hide who they are, and no one has the right to judge anyone else for who they are. Find ways to be grateful for your current circumstances, and find a way to appreciate other people for theirs.
Contact CUIndependent Staff Writer Domna Dali at Domna.Dali@colorado.edu.
