Dear Reader,
Oh look. I’ve gone and changed the title again.
As starting point, I would like to introduce you to the lunatic + lovely coupling which brought forth yours truly. I stood a small and already confused person between them. Yes, Arabs and Muslims often come in different shades than brown / terrorist.
This photo was taken well before these two stopped procreating forever and ever eternal and divorced, ensuring that the weight of their worlds rested squarely upon my lone and no-longer blond head. Thanks mum and dad; you’re nice.
Look at how happy and somewhat menacing these two people are; as though they’ve never had their photo taken before.** Or they were the first to procreate a small person. Upon closer inspection of the photo, I am clearly scared rather than confused. They are gorgeous, aren’t they? (**Also, I am kidding — Arabs know what a camera is.)
As those who read me on the regular already know, I have for the past while been searching for a common denominator through my writing, a place where I would comfortably park myself for time to come, a place in which this now seven year-old internets home may flourish and behave as the histrionic comedienne it was meant to be.
As I am painfully dense, this endeavor left me struggling for weeks until earlier today, when it finally sank in to just write what I know already (which is what everyone and their mother had previously advised).
A few days back, I thought I had arrived at Humour, in fact, but knew by the itch it left that something was missing still: a specificity to my writing.
Not only does the Prolific Immigrant leave no room for vague, it feeeeels 100% right.
My family came to Canada when I was aged four and still v v malleable to my parents’ will. We are Muslim, Palestinian, and I was born in Libya. Essentially, my identity is where all Axis of Evil points converge.
“Canadian” is how I have always identified. (POUTINE!! CALL ME!!) Only recently — not as begrudgingly as one might think — I accepted with open arms that though this remains the predominant character to my identity, it is by no means the only.
In reality I am all things Palestinian, Canadian, Muslim, female, liberal, and often: v v dumb.
Henceforth, predominant (not all) pieces here shall be love letters to my identity; the beauty of it, the challenges it has wrought upon my life, and the strength of character and pride which it has forced upon me even when I didn’t want it (and while I may still sometimes attempt to punch it in its hair).
Though it doesn’t take much for me to reach it, I trust that you are as excited by this new direction as I am.
Love,
Maha
This is funny and excellent and “feeeeeels” just right to this one long-term reader. I am looking forward to more of the same, all stories told with your wonderful sense of humor and warmth.
Thank you for keeping us updated =o)
Thomas
One of my all-time favourite things is when you write about your family and experiences here and in Palestine. I have been a reader for so long that I can say WITH AUTHORITY that this is a wicked move. I AM EXCITED!! Have fun travelling!! BE SAFE!!
“Look at how happy and somewhat menacing these two people are; as though they’ve never had their photo taken before. Or they were the first to procreate a small person. Upon closer inspection of the photo, I am clearly scared rather than confused.” I DIED!! -lily
xo
I love the new direction and if anyone can build bridges between cultures, I know it’s you. Don’t think I have ever read anyone who can do it better than you 🙂
hugs,
Maria
I agree that, at the end of the day, we are all absolutely the same and we are all looking for that one amazing sense of love. Belonging within the world and heart of another.
HUGSIES LAINIE! xxxx