In their own words

• On major issues facing Arab Americans and British Arabs…
• On the aims of community activism…
• On identity…
• On citizenship…
• On locating 'home'…

On identity…

These interviews highlight the multi-layered character of people’s identities.  Very few of our interviewees see themselves exclusively as ‘Arab’; likewise, only a few identify themselves exclusively as American or British.   Instead, most interviewees embrace multiple, sometimes hyphenated, identities that reflect their membership in different groups based on ethnicity and nationality as well as religion, gender, sexuality, ‘race’.   Some describe themselves as able to draw on different aspects of their identities according to the situation at hand.  Others describe their identities as operating more holistically - albeit not always harmoniously - reflecting the uniqueness of being, for instance, Arab, Muslim, and British.   While several research participants describe their identities as having emerged in specific political contexts, not all see identity as a legitimate basis for political action, unlike, for instance, more abstract ideas like social justice and equality. 

I probably never thought of myself as an Arab American until 1991, when Iraq was invaded.  Immediately after that, I started calling myself an Iraqi American or Arab American, because I really wanted to make a point of how proud I am of where I came from.  I wanted to clear a lot of misconceptions that people have about the Arabs and the Iraqis.  So I purposely interjected that hyphen… [Iraqi-born director of Arab American cultural organization]

Honestly, I’m not an Iraqi.  I’m not the same Iraqi that you’ll find in downtown Baghdad or Basra.  I am not a representative of the 41-year-old Iraqi… Because I’ve lived in this country; I’ve lived in a different environment for long enough to lose and to gain and to be different, to end up as a different person mentally…The Iraq I left is not the same Iraq I go back to; I’m not the same person they knew me to be [British-raised director of various Iraq-based social development programmes]

I am Palestinian and Egyptian…I am queer, a woman, a feminist…I remember as a very young child knowing that to identify myself as a Palestinian was not cool - people didn’t like that…When the intifada began, I [realized] I come from a people, and these people struggle.  It helped me make sense of why my parents are in the US and why we didn’t go back, like we had no place to go back to.  To understand that really opened a lot of doors for me in terms of finding my place in these struggles and the need for these struggles.  [US-born activist in multiple immigrant-rights, queer, and Arab feminist organizations]

It's funny.  I'm now feeling more British Arab because I'm meeting more British Arabs.  I kind of think, I can identify with them, they're more like me.    I mean, if I'm with English friends, I don't categorize myself as a British Arab, but when I'm with British Arabs, I feel very like these people; we share a common culture, we share two cultures.  When I'm with Arab Arabs, I feel something isn't quite right.  You know, I don't really understand the things they're talking about because their Arabic is fluent and mine isn't.  So the language becomes a barrier with the Arab Arabs.   With my English friends, language obviously isn't a barrier, but there's a part…I don't know. I don't feel British.  I've never felt British. [UK-raised, Iraqi-Palestinian origin member of charitable organization with foreign and domestic operations]

To be honest with you, I identify myself as American because I got most of my success in this country.  I always say it to people around me:  Do you think if I was in my country, I would get this position?  It would be hard for an uneducated, divorced woman in another country to be successful.  I do see myself here doing everything.  I don’t see myself as less than anybody else.  The self-esteem that you get in this country is really powerful.  [Syrian-born founder of social service agency for low-income Arab immigrants]

If being British is going to your local pub every weekend, then I fall completely out of that because my religion says we can’t do things like that.  It’s not about not being able to do it, you just don’t want to do it…I think that’s what a lot of people in this country see as negative things - the Muslims forming their own little community and ‘they don’t want to do what we do.’ …I think that the white UK expects people to take part in social weekends, and if that’s not what your life is about, you’re seen as different and an outcast.  The tensions are there, but I’ve grown accustomed to them.  In everything else and every other respect, I’m British, but because I don’t go out in the evening and wear revealing clothes and run around half naked, that’s the only thing I’m Muslim and different about.  [UK-born director of educational programmes for low-income British Arab and minority communities]

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