The day Rashida Tlaib was sworn into Congress was momentous, but it doesn’t eradicate the difficulties people of Palestinian origin face in the US
A few years ago, I went with a friend and her family to a Jewish restaurant in New York City known for comfort food and vodka. Early in the evening, its entertainer asked everyone where they were from, and my friend’s dad announced I was Palestinian. He meant well: it was an enthusiastic “Isn’t it great we’re all getting along?” statement. The entertainer wasn’t quite so enthusiastic, and proclaimed to the room: “There’s no such thing as a Palestinian.” I left in tears. It kinda ruined dinner.
While the restaurant incident was particularly unpleasant, it wasn’t the first or last time I have been told Palestinians don’t exist. It happens all the time. I am proud of being Palestinian, but it gets exhausting having to constantly prove your humanity and plead your legitimacy. It gets exhausting reiterating you don’t hate anyone, you just want to be treated with dignity. So, in the end, just to make things easier, you start erasing your identity yourself. I often vaguely say I’m half-Arab, half-English when people ask where I am from. Over time, you stop taking joy in your heritage and tiptoe warily around it instead.
Continue reading...from The Guardian http://bit.ly/2LPtpdF
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