My identity has long been a place of confusion and resentment. I'm a Palestinian-Greek American. Three vivacious and similar yet so different cultures wrapped into one person. It doesn't stop there. I'm also a convert to Islam. I was raised with my mother who is Greek, Christian and attended Greek School and church from a young age. I didn't know anything about my Palestinian culture because I didn't even know I was Palestinian until I was around seven years old. I knew I was half Arab because of my different last name and foreign father, but that was irrelevant to my life because I didn’t live with him. As far as I was concerned, I was a Greek, American girl who for some reason didn't feel complete with my Greek friends and felt different from my American friends. Little did I know that identity crisis was soon to take a more dramatic turn.
As I entered middle school, I started to understand my Palestinian side and take it on with great pride because I always found myself defending Palestinians against my classmates who would terrorize me with racist, hurtful jokes. I began to study my other side and fall in love with the strength and character that defines it. Along with that, I began to study Islam and fully understand such a misunderstood religion and soon converted which then led to the hardest years of my life. Every day I would go home from school and be reminded that my identity was something to be ashamed of within my own house because my mother felt betrayed and couldn’t relate. Every night I would imagine how different life would be if I came from a family of one identity. I couldn’t discuss my source of happiness and pride with my mother without causing problems or resentment. The constant opposition to my identity fueled me to be more proud of it and it wasn’t until I was 18 years old that I began to embrace my Palestinian, Muslim side with confidence and security.
I still struggled with acceptance in regards to always feeling different and never truly belonging. To the Greeks I was Palestinian, to the Palestinians I was American and to the Americans I was Palestinian. My lack of Arabic skills and not being raised in an Arab household made me a foreigner to many Arabs but throughout the constant knock-downs and resentment of saying my Greek name “Alexis,” I grew a thick skin and learned to see the beauty in my unique background. When people hear I am Palestinian/Greek, they always have an interesting expression because those are two unique yet similar beautiful cultures put together in one. That’s me. I’m a Palestinian-Greek American and I’m proud of my English tongue, Greek name and Palestinian features. It is what makes me the person I am. It taught me acceptance and compassion towards differences. So now when anyone asks me “what’s your name?” I confidently say “My name is Alexis Abuhadba” because through this, my identity is revealed-the most proud aspect of who I am.