Each and every one of us in this classroom is part of an immigration narrative that helps us better understand ourselves and deal with difficulties that accompany immigration. The start of my immigration narrative is set in a small tight-knit village in the Qalyubia governate of Egypt. As you are walking through Al-Barada village, you see the ground polluted with dog feces, dirty ripped clothes, and even dead animals such as donkeys. The villagers neglect their duty of disposing of their waste properly and these pollutants make their way into the village’s water source causing many yearly deaths from water-borne diseases. The lack of an adequate sewage system makes it difficult to filter the water that most of the villagers get from the center of the village. Al-Barada being an underdeveloped agriculture village with limited resources, it is not surprising to see houses made from cheap material such as mud bricks. These are the conditions that my father was forced to deal with.
My father and mother were born in this village in 1967 and 1972, respectively. Both my parents are the eldest siblings in their households and each one of them had an important role in helping support their families. My dad is the oldest of his 10 siblings and was forced to help my grandfather with farm labor while excelling in his studies. He worked eight hour shifts on the farm followed by going to a lecture hall at the other end of the village at night to complete his lessons. Eventually, my father received his Bachelor degree of Physical Therapy in 1989.
My Father’s Bachelor Degree of Physical Therapy
Everything changed on July 1991, when my father was invited by the Department of Physical Therapy of Chicago University Hospital to work and conduct academic research in the Physical Therapy field. A year later, he went back to the village and married my mother (who was also his cousin) and she was granted a permanent residency green card. He brought my mother to live in Hyde Park, Chicago with him starting in 1994. Surprisingly, my father was financially doing well and the only aspect that was missing was the sense of community and family that my parents left behind in Egypt. For this reason, my parents decided to start a family and this plan took place with the birth of my first brother in 1994. My mother started making friends with the wives of my father’s colleagues and the picture I brought to class is significant because that picture is a representation of the way my mother dealt with the difficulties of immigration. The two women in the picture are my mother and her first friend, Menal Abdelrahman. This picture is an important reminder for me that my family is not the only family faced with the difficulties of immigration and that these difficulties can help us relate to one another. This also shows that understanding can become a support system that helps alleviate any burdens.
My mother’s first friend in America.
My personal immigration narrative began on January 28th, 1997, when I was born in Bernard Mitchell Hospital in Hyde Park, Chicago. Five months after my birth, my father passed his Physical Therapy License Exam which allowed him to move to any state and work as a physical therapist. My father chose to move to New York because of the large population that he could aid with his expertise. My family was met with the same problem, which was the lack of family and community that accompanies migration. For this reason, my father decided to move to Bay Ridge because of the high Arab population that would help my family in the process of acculturation and assimilation. My father continued to pursue his Ph.D in Physical Therapy by taking online courses of A.T. Still University. His drive to further his education has inspired me to continue on my journey to become a doctor and engineer to help others.
Growing up, I was sent to the Bay Ridge Islamic Society in order to learn more about my language, religion, and culture. I remember always going with my Yemeni neighbors to the second floor of the mosque which was painted green and filled with pictures that had both English and Arabic translations. My assimilation and understanding of American culture was mainly based off of television shows that I watched with my older siblings. The best way to describe the culture that I grew up in was a heterogeneous mixture of Arab and American culture. My parents made sure that I retained major parts of my Arab culture while assimilating parts of American culture that would ease my life as a second generation immigrant.
My ethnic culture became an inevitable part of my life after the 9/11 attacks. The other picture I brought to class is me dressed as a young firefighter in order celebrate the heroic acts of the firefighters that risked their lives during the 9/11 attacks. Although I was not really bullied because of my young age, my older siblings were bullied and called out for the 9/11 attacks. Everyday, my older brother or sister would come home crying either from verbal or physical abuse from their classmates. The fear that my siblings and I would forget our culture and ethnic background in order to fit in pushed my parents to enroll us in an Islamic private school. This environment definitely helped me grow into a better person that would take pride in his ethnic culture, even if it meant that he would get negatively impacted by it.
Dressed as a firefighter
I decided to convince my parents to enroll me in Fort Hamilton High School so I could get exposed to the diversity of the public school life. I chose Fort Hamilton High School because of its large population, which is around 5,000 students. FHHS is a 20-minute walk away from my house, which is very convenient for me. At first, my mother disagreed due to the fear that I would forget my culture in the process of assimilating into the bigger culture of Fort Hamilton High School. On the other hand, my father was happy that I was ready to move on and experience a new learning environment that would put me to test of balancing my culture and the American culture. Ultimately, both my parents agreed for me to enroll in FHHS. This was similar to the immigration process because I had to overcome challenges that I may have not faced in my private school. The journey I chose to take has without a doubt helped me and will continue to help me deal with any type of migration whether it be to a new state, neighborhood, or even school. My immigrant narrative has taught me that it is possible to assimilate and understand new cultures while retaining my ethnic culture that contributes to my uniqueness as an immigrant.
