I’ve
always known my Arab culture is worth
celebrating.
I
heard it in Syrian tenor Sabah Fakhri’s powerful
voice reverberating in my mom’s car on the way
to piano lessons and soccer practice during my
youth. I smelled it in the za’atar, Aleppo
pepper, allspice, and cumin permeating the air
in the family kitchen.
I
saw it in the intricate embroidery on my
grandma’s silk robe. And in the determination
etched in the faces of my immigrant parents, who
raised seven children in Southern California
without relinquishing our rich Syrian
traditions.
April
is National Arab American Heritage Month. It
should be a time to celebrate the contributions
of the over 3.5 million Arab Americans who
strengthen our proud nation.
We
have Ralph Nader to thank for consumer
protections like automobile safety. We have the
late Senator James Abourezk (D-SD) — the first
Arab American elected to the U.S. Senate — to
credit for landmark legislation championing
Indigenous rights. Dr. Mona Hanna-Attisha, a
pediatrician, first exposed the Flint, Michigan
water crisis.
There
are countless others. But right now, it’s
impossible to feel celebratory. My community is
reeling from the immense pain and horror of
an unfolding
genocide against
the 2.3 million Palestinians
of Gaza.
Palestinian
Americans have lost family members in Gaza from
Israel’s unrelenting bombardment and mass
starvation of
civilians. Adding insult to injury, Israel is
using U.S.-supplied weapons to commit these
atrocities.
Palestinian
Americans — along with other Arabs — have also
been on the receiving end of increased hate
crimes, harassment, racist rhetoric, and
discrimination, belying the message that they,
too, are an integral part of this nation. The
American-Arab Anti-Discrimination
Committee received 2,500
reports of anti-Arab hate from October to March.
During
this period, Wadea
Al-Fayoume,
a 6-year-old Palestinian American boy from
Illinois, was fatally stabbed. Three
Palestinian college students were
shot in Vermont.
In
his proclamation marking
this year’s heritage month, President Biden was
forced to reckon with Gaza. Instead of
announcing a long overdue, permanent ceasefire
and an end to U.S. military support for Israel,
he offered empty words.
How
can Arab American life and culture be celebrated
when fellow Arabs are facing erasure in Gaza?
Nearly 35,000 Palestinians have been killed in
Gaza so far, including nearly
14,000 children.
Thousands more remain missing. And at least
576,000 Palestinians are on the brink of famine.
Homes
filled with family heirlooms and memories have
been systematically destroyed.
The ancient olive
trees that
symbolize Palestinians’ deep-rooted connection
to their land haven’t been spared.
It’s
easy to feel despair. But what brings me hope is
the new generation of Arab Americans organizing,
marching, and working with other communities to
demand a permanent ceasefire. We are reminded
that dissent is the highest form of
“patriotism.”
Despite
attempts to smear and silence them for
supporting Palestinian human rights, their
efforts are having an impact. A March 27
Gallup poll showed
a significant drop in American public support
for Israel’s conduct of the war, from 50 percent
in November 2023 to 36 percent now.
Meanwhile,
Arab Americans have emerged as a new and
powerful voting bloc. Spearheaded by Arab
Americans in Michigan, hundreds of thousands of
Americans voted “uncommitted” in recent primary
elections in Michigan, Minnesota, North
Carolina, Massachusetts, and elsewhere to
protest U.S. policy in Gaza.
This
represents a real shift from the days after
9/11, when Arab Americans faced blanket
demonization without any pushback. This is
progress, although much more must be done.
We
know we belong in America even if we’re not
always treated that way. We need enduring
collaboration between Arab Americans and
policymakers, educators, and community members
to defend our rights, create a more equal
America, and promote more just U.S. policies
abroad — starting with a ceasefire in Gaza.
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