Twelve years

My son on 9/11 was told lies by his white teacher & for years, when flying solo between my home in TX & his father’s in NY, was terrified of Arab terrorists.

Now, he knows better.

He knows better because he was selected randomly for a screening at the age of seven.

He knows better because his uncle was almost deported & sat in jail for months.

He knows better because in his lifetime, wars have begun & kids who look like him have died in Iraq, in Gaza, in Lebanon, in Afghanistan, & in Yemen, in Pakistan, soon, in Syria.

He knows better because he hasn’t told any of his friends he’s Arab.

To be Arab-American is to be reminded every single day, including today, of one’s unbelonging, of how where one is “from” is where war is always heading.

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