Arab In America Poem by Touffic El Rasi

Is it just me or do airports make you uncomfortable?
Just me right?
I have avoided going to the airport since 9/11 but I'm not trying to make it a race thing.
But it's a race thing!
There are just too many incidents of brown people being detained or expelled from flights,
So knowing this, I decided to play it safe at the airport and wore my VIVA MEXICO t-shirt with a big Mexican Flag on it.
I've lived in this country for so long, but I still feel like such an outsider.
And the media did not help.
The portrayals of my people in the face of the world today has obscured our names.
I was named after my grandfather, who came to this country in search of a better land,
But was greeted with ostracization instead of the liberty he had heard of.
And like most immigrants, to blend in, I was given an American name.
My mother who'd sought to protect her only child, gave birth to the an American dream inside of me at a young age.
When my mother first arrived in the States, she changed my name to David,
It was the only "American" name she knew.
Walking every morning to see the bright white faces of my peers I knew,
that I don't look like a David and I wasn't fooling anyone.
Nevertheless, my American dream persevered,
Till the only thing I bled was red white and blue,
But we immigrants are still not seen as a part of this country.
We are taught to hide our ethnicity, blend in with the whites, forsake our identity in the interest of safety.
But I say now, I am Arab and American.