It is widely held among young, liberal arts educated students that the United States media possesses inherent biases that, for better or worse, shape our worldview and influence our interaction with our immediate and perceived environment. This first became eminently clear upon my field study to Cuba where I observed that indeed Cubans are not overwhelmingly sick, desperate, and depressed, as US media typically portrays. Rather, they are happy, dancing, and pleasant almost to a greater degree than other Caribbean islands.
The same realization struck me here, in Amman, although via a very uncanny medium: license plates. Much like how one, while in Orlando, can pass the license plates from ten, fifteen, perhaps even twenty different states, in Amman automobiles hail from all over the Middle East. Most frequently, I see cars with plates from the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, Syria, or Kuwait. However, one evening, while sharing a plate of hummus and shawerma with a dear local friend, a gleaming Rolls Royce coupé gracefully floated by. Admiring the lovely car, I was surprised to see it had an Iraqi license plate. Even more perplexing, however, was that I was so stunned by such a phenomenon.
Despite knowing that Syria is currently in utter turmoil, I never once had a visceral reaction to a Syrian plated luxury car. I did, however, grow up in a post-9/11 America where for nearly all of my school years, I lived in a country at war in Iraq. The news flashed nothing but the burned and bombed out sections of Fallujah, Baghdad, and Mosul. Movies depicted Iraqis as scattered, homeless, soulless individuals; they were either terrorists or women covered in burqa. American news media worked on me. It dehumanized Iraq in my mind.
Such sentiments, upon realizing I had unintentionally built them up, disgusted me. I am Arab. I am close friends with Iraqi immigrants to Orlando, as are my parents. I am Muslim. As far as CNN, MSNBC, and FOX news are concerned, my Arab heritage and Muslim faith lumps me in the same shapeless, homogenous, category. And I fell for it! In Beirut, Dubai, or any other Arab city I’ve traveled to, seeing a fancy car with an Arab license plate never struck me as strange. A Ferrari with Libya plates? No problem. A Bugatti with Lebanon plates? Normal. A Mercedes Benz from Dubai? Natural. But Iraqi license plates are different. And this is a shame. This is embarrassing. I am Arab-American, but I failed. I now understand even more the fear that many Americans have of Muslims, of Arabs, of foreigners. We as humans and as Americans are not inherently racist, but we are fed a steady stream of dehumanized depictions of a whole slew of minorities. The young black man is a thug. The young latino family are aliens. The Arab is a terrorist. I cannot think of an Iraqi celebrity, politician, or academic. Not in the same way I can instantly rattle off other great American contributors. We are a product of our environment. And our environment possesses some truly vile strains that do not promote love and instead, emphasize division. It must change.
Really thoughtful post–thanks for sharing.