The Challenges of Ethnic Ambiguity
While this isnât a post about DID, it is about another important part of my identity; my ethnicity.
My father was born and raised in Syria with Syrian (and possibly some Turkish) descent. My mother was born in Australia to Egyptian parents, with a tiny bit of Turkish in her mix. I was born in Australia, moved to the U.A.E. when I was 7-8 yo , then returned to Australia when I was 13-14 yo. For those who donât know, all three of these countries Iâm descended from, but especially Egypt, are very ethnically diverse, which in turn means my physical appearance is very ethnically âdifferentâ and âconfusingâ. So when people see me, they feel the need to either force me into some guessing game about my ethnicity, make assumptions and treat me accordingly, or, in rare cases, actually ask me and get a mildly accurate answer. While in an ideal world, I wish people would just treat me as another human being, I donât get that liberty with the way I look and the experiences Iâve had.
Just the other day, I was in an Uber with an Irish friend and we were chatting with the driver who turned out to be Afghani. We were talking about how the driver and I were both lactose intolerant, whereas my Irish friend was not, when I made the comment âonly white people are not lactose intolerantâ. The driverâs response was âBut youâre white!â Right about now, yâall are probably thinking Iâm crazy for getting annoyed about passing and being mistook for a white person, but the problem with passing means all your experiences with racism and otherness due to your ethnicity are completely disregarded as if they never happened, which is really damn offensive and hurtful.
That was one of the more innocent times Iâve been mistook for being white. There have been several occasions on which Iâve been blatantly told to my face that thereâs no way Iâve ever experienced racism, because my skin is light. When in fact, the entire reason my family and I moved to the U.A.E. was because we were terrified of the backlash against Arabs and Muslims post-9/11. Thatâs right, I had to leave the country I was born in and grew up in because we felt so threatened. So, I guess I canât really call Australia home, right?
So what about the U.A.E.? Well I certainly wasnât welcomed there with open arms. Speaking the Syrian dialect of Arabic meant I was ridiculed every time I would speak Arabic in front of my peers, and having an Australian accent speaking English in a country full of people with American accents meant I was also ridiculed when speaking English, until I adopted the American accent. Not to mention the times I was cornered by classmates to be called things like âforeignerâ and âegg-headâ, and sometimes even physically hurt and purposely left out of games and activities my classmates would engage in during our lunch breaks. So no, the U.A.E. certainly isnât home.
Syria? I remember trying to get a haircut when visiting Syria once. My sister, who has very straight hair compared to mine, was given premium service; a perfect haircut, a blow dry afterwards, a cheap rate, and it was not a rush job. When the hairdressers got to my nappy ass hair, they didnât quite know what to do, so they gave me a rush job with a shitty haircut and my uncle had to argue with them and pay them extra so they would actually finish the job. And buying clothes for me there was a nightmare because Iâve got the African bottom-heavy body shape. Plus, Arabs are very racist towards each other so the fact I was obviously not 100% Syrian meant I was treated as less than everywhere I went. So I donât fit in in Syria either. And if I ever end up in Turkey, itâll be more or less the same.
And then as for Egypt, I canât speak the dialect, in fact I find it quite difficult to even understand, and my skin colour is far too light for me to appear Egyptian and fit into their society. And Egypt is a pretty dangerous place for foreigners right now. So where do I fit in? Where do ethnically âdifferentâ looking people fit in this world? I feel like a god damn Chameleon at this point, constantly changing how I present depending on the ethnicity of the people around me. Iâll speak Arabic, keep my distance from men, and feign what Arabs like to call âmodestyâ if Iâm surrounded by Arabs to prove my Arabness. Iâll shade white people when Iâm with my indigenous or black friends to prove my non-whiteness (although Iâm also non-stop dissing white people in my head too). And I step up my whiteness, vocabulary, Aussie slang, and enthusiasm for âintellectual conversation and debatesâ around white folks so I come across as educated, intelligent, and sophisticated enough to live amongst them in their white country. In all honesty, I love having intellectual debates and enjoy giving my Arabic a spin on the rare occasion that I can, but I can only handle so much debating with white people about shit they donât know and speaking a language I barely remember. I actually feel the least like a fish out of water when Iâm spending time with my African Australian and/or my Indigenous Australian friends, but even then I donât feel truly 100% accepted. I actually kind of feel like an impostor.
I know this is going to be read by a bunch of people who do fit neatly into a certain ethnicity or race and be told that Iâm being too sensitive or that there are so many people who are worse off or something else completely dismissive, but therein lies the issue. I am very aware that people of other minority races experience things I will never have to, but that doesnât make any of my experiences any less valid. Also, the examples Iâve used here are very PG compared to most of the racist encounters Iâve had. Iâve had a group of white boys drive past me and scream out the window âwhat the fuck is that?â at me. Iâve had neo-nazis try to get me fired from the first club I worked at because they had decided I was Jewish because Iâve got a big nose (which actually looks a lot more African than Jewish tbh). I had to be escorted out of the club by security early that night because those same boys began bordering on violent and their bullshit kept escalating (and no, I wasnât recompensed for the rest of the shift). Iâve been consistently mocked about my body shape, called all sorts of fat slurs, even starved with the intention of making me lose weight, by the Syrian side of my family ever since I started going through puberty. All because I donât fit into their idea of an attractive body because I have curves, a fat ass, and thick thighs. And by the way, that has lead to some serious body dysmorphia because even when I do lose weight, my body shape/ proportions stay the same and Iâve been programmed to see that as fat. I was strip searched at the airport when I was 13 coming back to Australia from Dubai, and Iâve never been to an airport since and not been screened for explosives (random my fat ass). But all that considered, the hardest part of all these experiences is that no matter where I am or where I go, Iâm literally always having to fight for a place in this world and the reality is that I just donât neatly fit anywhere. And that leaves a person feeling extremely disenfranchised, discouraged, left out, alone, unaccepted, misunderstood, misplaced, and perpetually lost, a big part of why I tend to seclude and isolate myself from even my closest friends. So I suppose the take away from this is if any of yâall have ethnically ambiguous friends, do not assume their ethnicity. Ask, then accept. And be mindful that because weâve never had a strong sense of belonging, weâll likely try to assimilate into whatever your culture is and thatâs a very uncomfortable process. So try to be conscious of at least the basics of their culture, whatever parts theyâve chosen to hold onto, and be inclusive with that knowledge in mind. I also want to say, before someone kicks up a shitstorm, that I donât HATE white people. I just find a very large number of them to be annoying, naive, willingly ignorant, obnoxious, privileged, and superficial. And if you get defensive over that statement, you are one of those white people I just described.
