Yaseen Eldik

One time, I came home so exhausted I couldn’t even make it up to my room. I slumped at the bottom of the stairs; my mom sat next to me. She didn’t ask what was wrong. Instead, she shared stories of her own experiences. Like when her colleagues looked askance at her when she began wearing her hijab at work. In her customary Egyptian folk wisdom, she said, in Arabic, “Irmee wara dahrak,” translated, “Throw it behind your back.” She also pointed out that bullying happens to many people for many reasons.

My mother’s words stayed with me, and over time helped me transform my pain into empathy. Whenever I go home, I run into those kids who used to torment me. We say hello awkwardly at a restaurant or the supermarket and catch up. My mind goes back to those painful school years, and I wonder if they remember, too.

But I know it doesn’t matter. The way they once saw me is no longer part of what I see in the mirror. I understand now that, through all her stories and corny words of encouragement, my mother was trying to teach me that I define myself.

This is the time of year when we all go home — in a car, on a plane or just in memory. These experiences will always be part of who I am. But so are the values my parents instilled in me. Whatever your tradition, returning home for the holidays offers a chance to renew a sense of yourself. By stepping out of our daily routines and re-encountering our past we can decide who we want to be in the future. I will draw strength from my family’s Muslim faith, Egyptian heritage and American experiences, the good ones and the bad ones.

- Yaseen Eldik


https://www.nytimes.com/2018/12/23/opinion/muslim-christmas.html