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John,
Twenty years ago today, I was sitting in my high school science class and gazing out the window watching smoke rising from one of the Twin Towers. Minutes later a second plane crashed into the other tower, causing a rush of flames and more smoke. My heart dropped as I tried to make sense of what exactly was happening.
Looking back, I can see how those senseless attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon irrevocably changed our city and our country. On that fateful day, over 3,000 people lost their lives. The tragedy of 9/11 is not only the number of lives lost and families destroyed, but that it also led to the targeting and criminalization of Arab and Muslim New Yorkers.
As the child of immigrants and a proud Muslim Arab-American, the core of what defined me—my immigrant roots, Palestinian background, and faith—became reasons to violate my basic rights and question my very personhood. On September 12, 2001, my brother was ordered removed and to be deported. Federal and local agencies launched raids into our communities, rounding up brothers, fathers, and grandfathers, interrogating them as though they were criminals just because of their religion. Arab and Muslim men were ordered to register with immigration authorities. But mine is only one of many stories of the costs of our leaders’ decision to wage a two decades-long campaign of terror against Muslim, Arab and immigrant Americans.
Though identity has long been politically charged for immigrants, 9/11 ushered in a new era of fear and persecution with the creation of the Department of Homeland Security. As I grew older and joined the immigrant rights movement, I remember 9/11 as the day of my awakening. It led me to deepen my organizing, take to the streets for rallies, and eventually to this role at the New York Immigration Coalition. I firmly believe each and every one of us deserves to feel safe in our homes and in our communities.
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