Fifteen years ago, I was oblivious to the existence of racism, unaware of my own biases. When I heard about hatred based on skin color or nationality, it felt distant and unimportant. Yet, deep down, I held prejudices against those with darker skin tones, wrongly perceiving them as perpetual victims seeking sympathy in the media. However, in 2011, life taught me a powerful lesson about fairness and humanity.

I am Syrian and left my homeland at eighteen. My life abroad was relatively smooth until the Syrian civil war triggered a mass exodus of refugees seeking safety and sustenance. Although I did not classify myself as a refugee, I faced racism akin to what many refugees encountered.

“Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.”

—James Baldwin

In various countries, being Syrian equates to being regarded as untrustworthy or contemptible. The narrative suggests that Syrian refugees have taken jobs from locals, leading to financial distress among citizens, who then resort to hostility and violence against them. Despite their qualifications, most Syrian refugees find themselves working in the informal sector, often underpaid and subjected to harsh conditions.

Employers often prefer hiring Syrian refugees because they accept lower wages, making their businesses more profitable. Unlike locals who expect better pay and working conditions, refugees are willing to do whatever it takes to support their families. The reality is that refugees did not take jobs from locals; it was the business owners who chose to employ them for economic advantage.

I have always taken pride in my Syrian identity. Yet, for the past five years, I have occasionally claimed to be Canadian when asked about my origins. This is because being Syrian in certain places can complicate life significantly. When I disclose my background, the atmosphere often shifts unfavorably, but claiming to be Canadian generally earns me a warm reception.

Holding a passport from the U.S., U.K., or Canada often garners respect and admiration, regardless of one’s financial status. I have witnessed this firsthand at airports, where one is greeted with either warmth or suspicion based solely on nationality.

Once, while at a coffee shop in a region notorious for its disdain towards Syrians, the owner welcomed us and inquired about our origins. My friend and I exchanged apprehensive glances, silently agreeing to conceal our true nationality. I claimed to be from Canada, and my friend said he was from Australia. To our surprise, the owner seemed relieved, declaring, “Thank God you’re not Syrian.” When I mentioned the negative perception of Syrians, she expressed her disdain, stating they had “stolen our jobs.” Despite her background as an architect, she felt wronged by the presence of Syrian refugees, yet it puzzled me how a struggling refugee could be blamed for her plight.

It took considerable introspection for me to understand the root of racism and my own biases. For too long, I had viewed those with darker skin through a skewed lens, despite recognizing their beauty, resilience, and kindness. I refused to accept that I was born with these prejudices; rather, I believed they were socially constructed.

“In a time of deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.”

—George Orwell

The revelation struck during political debates across various nations, where a small cadre of self-serving politicians spread divisive narratives targeting vulnerable groups. They claim that societal woes are caused by these minorities, often the weakest in society, asserting that improvement lies in their exclusion or humiliation. The media then amplifies these messages, distorting reality and embedding these falsehoods into public consciousness. It is this toxic interplay between politics and media that perpetuates divisive attitudes, rather than the individual biases we hold.

I found myself guilty of similar biases during my time in luxury branding, where appearance often dictated worth. I unfairly judged individuals based on their looks, dismissing those who didn’t fit my narrow standards. This was a grave mistake on my part.

Today, I combat these biases with a simple practice: when I find myself judging someone based on appearance, I ask myself how that parallels the judgments made against me due to my nationality. While I still have personal preferences, I now recognize that these should not overshadow the inherent potential and worth of every individual.

I have resolved to embrace my identity as a proud Syrian. I no longer believe that lying about who I am will enhance my self-esteem. If I were to mask my heritage, I would still face discrimination based on my appearance. To effect meaningful change, I needed to shift how I perceive humanity and justice.

Today, I view people of all backgrounds as unique individuals with immense beauty, talent, and kindness. I refuse to judge anyone based on superficial standards, recognizing that potential lies within everyone, irrespective of their appearance.

“With guns, you can kill terrorists, with education, you can kill terrorism.”

—Malala Yousafzai

While some may see it as naïve to envision a world filled with mutual respect and kindness, striving for this ideal encourages us to act with greater empathy and understanding. A little compassion and education can go a long way. From my experience, it is unwise to take offense at the biases of others. Instead of retaliating, we can engage in open dialogues to understand their views, potentially guiding them toward a more enlightened perspective.

Through my efforts, I aim to alter perceptions surrounding the narrative of “Syrian Refugees.” They are not job thieves; they are individuals caught in dire circumstances, risking everything for a chance at safety. Many yearn to return home. While not every conversation has shifted someone’s viewpoint, I have found kind souls willing to listen. Some who once regarded me with hostility now consider me family. Through positive dialogue, we can replace negativity with warmth, fostering healing from racism and division. My hope is that one day, we can all embrace our identities without fear of judgment.

Peace!

? Join my mailing list to receive my stories in your inbox. ?Follow The Hub Publication for practical tips and inspiring stories.

— © Nour Boustani 2024