By Nihal Mubarak
Age (when it happened): 9
Location (when it happened): Huntsville, Ala.
Memory: My family had just immigrated to the U.S. from Jeddah so I already felt like the “other” and out of place in a new country that may well have been another planet.
My English was broken and my friends were few. When the news came and President George W. Bush declared it an act of terror, I was in class.
As I grew up, I tried in vain to hide my father’s name, Osama, from my classmates, as I was afraid it would be a source of torment.
We were studying Abraham Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation in social studies. Our teacher stopped the lesson and turned the TV on and watched the news in class until the school contacted our parents and told them to pick us up.
How it lives with you today: I don’t remember any immediate backlash after it happened, but as I grew up, I tried in vain to hide my father’s name, Osama, from my classmates, as I was afraid it would be a source of torment.
Sure enough, all throughout middle school, whenever people found out — whether it was a sub calling out our full names or name lists posted outside of classes for standardized exams — my peers made it a habit to taunt me about my middle name.
It was hard to stomach and it made me ashamed because I went to so many lengths to hide my dad’s name, either by omitting it completely or giving him a more Westernized, acceptable name like “Sammy.”