Once upon a time in the land of hummus and history, also known as Lebanon, I believed that we were all part of a mystical, monochromatic tribe called “white.” Little did I know, my journey from the Middle East to West Africa and finally to the land of cheeseburgers and “freedom” would be a rollercoaster of mistaken identities and label confusions.
Picture this: a bewildered kid from Lebanon, blissfully unaware of the complexities of the global Crayola box, where skin tones are more diverse than a buffet at a food festival. Fasten your seatbelts; this is the comical tale of my adventure through identity crises.
First stop, West Africa! As soon as I set foot on the vibrant continent, people started pointing fingers, labeling me as a Middle Easterner. I couldn’t help but chuckle – because, hello, the Middle East is a region, not a race. It’s like calling someone European and expecting them to respond with a specific dance move.
But wait, the plot thickens as I hop on a plane to “the land of the free, the home of the brave – America!” Here, my fellow countrymen decided to label me as “non-white.” Cue the confused facial expressions. It seems that in the magical land of the melting pot, folks were just as puzzled by my identity as I was by their fascination with pumpkin spice everything.
Now, fast forward to the present, where I find myself chuckling heartily at the irony of it all. Turns out, I’m kind of relieved not to be associated with the race that’s apparently waging wars all over the world. I mean, who needs that kind of responsibility? I can barely decide what to have for breakfast without causing a national crisis in my kitchen.
Being the ‘Not-So-White’ wanderer has its perks – no pressure to join any global warmongering clubs, no secret handshakes, and definitely no exclusive invitations to world domination strategy meetings. I’ve successfully evaded the drama associated with being part of a race that, according to popular opinion, seems to have a penchant for geopolitical shenanigans.
In conclusion, my journey from Lebanon to America has been like a comedy sketch with a twist of mistaken identities. Who knew that being “non-white” could be so liberating? So here’s to embracing the humor in our diverse identities, relishing the absurdity of labels, and realizing that in the grand scheme of things, we’re all just passengers on this cosmic rollercoaster, desperately trying not to spill our metaphorical popcorn. Cheers to being proudly ‘Not-So-White’ and blissfully ignorant about world-domination plots!
