I just became a US Citizen. But...

When I was around 9 years old and had only recently moved back to Palestine, I understood that there were different plans on the table for resolving the conflict between us and the armed people in green that controlled our lives. It was my understanding at the time that a plan was being considered where US soldiers would broker a transition of the West Bank and Gaza to the Palestinians. I was a fan of this idea. I felt relief, because I knew that US soldiers would treat us fairly and kindly. I knew they would not hate me based on my ethnicity and my religion. I knew that they would be professional and considerate and that is who I wanted to occupy me.

It's been 17 years since and many things have changed significantly in that time. Growing up and being exposed to a very complicated political reality of the US, Israel and the Palestinian territories, I'd like to believe that I'm not naive anymore. Besides the fact that there would be no way where Israel would "allow" the US to have such an interference, ideas of the industrial-military complex have been well instilled in my head and unfortunately, history and modern events have shown just how brutal and immoral wars have been, especially those in which US soldiers have engaged. I'm not sure I would want US soldiers occupying my people anymore. But I still do, naively perhaps, think the US, as a concept, as a country, as a constitution, as a state, embodies the fair, kind, indiscriminate, professional and considerate ideals that I had envisioned as a child. The actual implementation and people that run this state, on the other hand, have very often disappointed me by betraying these values and I am saddened by this.

There are many dimensions to this subject and there is much to say, criticize and get outraged by regarding US military campaigns in countries in which people look like me, speak my language and/or worship like me but I do want to say, with honesty and sincerity, that I am happy to be a naturalized US citizen today.

I immediately want to acknowledge and recognize the privilege that comes with being a heterosexual American English-speaking male graduate student in the world today. However, to me, my newly-acquired citizenship carries many different weights and burdens. Please note that before I had recently taken my citizenship oath in the courthouse, I had no citizenship to any recognized country in the world. My citizenship has been undefined my whole life. I have a passport with "Palestinian Authority" written on it and a first page that has the words "1993 Oslo Accords" on it. The State Department had me as a citizen of Jordan, even though I was born in a city that was part of Jordan up until 20 years before I was born. For the longest time, while applying to schools and different fellowships and application, I dreaded the drop-down menu because I knew for a fact that "Palestine," "West Bank," and/or "Palestinian Authority" would not be listed. "Israel" was always listed. "Jordan" was always listed. "The United States" was usually the first country on the list. But never something that I can identify with. There are a lot of reasons/events that have contributed to this in history up until now, but nonetheless, I was a citizen of nowhere, and this is nothing compared to Palestinian refugees with soft travel documents that define who they are and where they come from. How are you supposed to explain their status to a bank when they immigrate here and want to sign up for an account? The truth is, now, after living 17 years in this country, I am happy to finally be a citizen of an internationally recognized country.

I want to acknowledge the complex and involved concept of nationalism: arbitrarily defined borders that define who "we" are and who "they" are. Ideally, I want to distance myself from nationalism. Fighting for a nation, an identity, a border. It has been the cause of so much destruction and bloodshed, especially where I come from.Yet, this is exactly what I have signed up for.The reality is that I live in the midst of social/political/nationalist constructs that has very little consideration of my feelings or belonging and I have to make the best of things. Perhaps now, when I travel through European connecting cities, I will not be considered a liability and I will be allowed to exit the airports, if I wanted to. Perhaps now, I will not be fingerprinted (as much) when I travel between borders. Perhaps now, I will have a drivers license that doesn't expire every 10 years. Perhaps now, I will allowed to fly into Tel Aviv instead of going through Israeli borders into my homeland (Perhaps not, I'm still a Palestinian, US citizen or not). Perhaps now, I am eligible to work for companies that make bombs and weapon. Perhaps now, I can write letter to "my state representative" and vote for people who "represent me" and people who share my identity and concerns. Perhaps now, I can run for office and be even more part of the system than I already am. Perhaps now, I can look down at people who are international and pretend that I have a leg up on them. Perhaps now, I can be like everybody else.

During the naturalization ceremony, I sat in front of a couple that originally came from Gaza, which was never occupied by Jordan. Yet, when it was time to recognize countries, the three of us stood up awkwardly after the presiding judge called, "Jordan." I stood up with a fake smile. I was saddened and a bit angry. The crowd applauded for us. I need this, I thought, I needed to play the part. Nobody cares about my concerns, feelings and objections. Take things as they come. Yet, I couldn't help be disappointed and conflict in my new country, which plays a huge role in helping to erase my original identity and original homeland while creating a new one for me. I'm grateful for the privilege and honor of being part of We The People, but I cannot forget where I come from, who I am. I am a Palestinian and I am an American. I have the documentation to prove both. Well, at least one of them for sure.