Dear World, I kindly ask that you refrain from inquiring about my children’s origins.
My son, Rami, was born in Australia, yet he doesn’t speak Arabic. He can recite passages from the Quran, but he also knows how to bust a move to “Watch Me (Whip/Nae Nae)” by Silento. He embodies a wonderful blend of cultures, and I take immense pride in that. I don’t want to confine my children to labels, nor do I wish for society to pigeonhole them.
Far too often, well-intentioned strangers approach my son with the question, “Where are you from?” I label them “well-intentioned” because I strive to maintain a positive outlook, but the frequent encounters leave me exasperated.
You might wonder, “What’s so wrong with a simple question?” The issue lies in the fact that no matter how he responds, it’s never deemed satisfactory. If he says, “I’m from Australia,” he’s met with raised eyebrows, largely because of my hijab and his olive complexion. Conversely, if he mentions “Lebanon” (a country we’ve never visited—my birthplace), it prompts the follow-up question: “So when did you come to Australia?” Rami’s answer, “I was born here,” only leads to another round of uncomfortable inquiries.
I implore you, just stop. Please.
Last week, I had an especially awkward exchange with a stranger at my children’s sports day. A mother I’d never met approached me and asked, “Are you Sarah’s mom?”
“Yes, I’m Layla, and you are?”
“But you’re wearing a hijab! And Sarah is so bright and speaks English so well.” (I nearly dropped my jaw.)
“Yes, she’s quite gifted. She hasn’t caught hijabitis.”
With that, I walked away, feeling bewildered. Why should my daughter’s abilities be overshadowed by my choice of attire? It baffles me how, even in 2023, our initial perceptions based on appearances still influence our judgments. Everyone has a story—some more complex than others—but each narrative deserves recognition. My children’s story may be intricate, and I don’t want Rami to feel obliged to explain:
“I’m from Australia. I was born here, just like my dad. My mom moved here with her family when she was three, so she’s practically local. Want to see their citizenship papers? Oh, and thanks for the compliment on my English skills; being a Muslim doesn’t hinder my language abilities!”
The unfairness is glaring when I compare him to his friend Noah, who was born in Ireland. Noah’s family moved to Australia eight years ago, and he’s never asked about his origin. This disparity weighs heavily on Rami. One day, he’ll recognize this imbalance, and I won’t have an adequate explanation.
For now, I’ll continue to teach my kids about the richness of every individual’s story. I want them to understand that life is a beautiful, multifaceted journey. I’ll instill in them that their worth comes from their actions and that they belong to a larger community—Team Humanity.
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Summary
This article emphasizes the importance of recognizing and respecting the diverse backgrounds of children, specifically addressing the challenges that come with being questioned about their heritage. It highlights the need for understanding and acceptance, encouraging a broader view of identity that transcends superficial labels.