SWANA Cultural Heritage Scholarship

At the age of seven, I immigrated with my father from Egypt to the United States. Our destination was Carmel, NY, a small town where the SWANA (Southwest Asian and North African) population was less than 1 percent at the time—and remains so today. Arriving in this predominantly homogeneous community, I felt like a sunflower in a cornfield. My uniqueness stood out starkly against the backdrop of my new environment. As a child, I strived to find common ground with my peers, hoping to bridge the gap created by our differences. However, despite my best efforts, these differences were often highlighted in unsettling and isolating ways. I encountered unfounded rumors and misconceptions not just about me but about my country, my heritage, and my ethnicity. These rumors, devoid of any factual basis, painted a distorted picture that was deeply disheartening. The burden of representing an entire MENA (Middle Eastern and North African) population weighed heavily on my young shoulders. Whenever I strived to conform or to act “appropriately,” I was met with the peculiar comment, “You’re a good one,” implying that I was an exception to a negative stereotype applied to others. It became clear that this sentiment was less about me and more about the faulty narratives perpetuated by the broader community, often echoed by their parents. The prevailing stereotypes that cast MENA individuals as terrorists, thieves, or societal misfits have only partially waned over the years. While progress has been made, significant work is still required to dismantle these damaging narratives. The portrayal of MENA heritage as inherently negative remains a challenge that continues to affect perceptions and interactions. The historical context of this prejudice is rooted in the legacy of imperialism and colonization. Many SWANA countries have been subjected to centuries of foreign intervention that have contributed to their current economic and political struggles. These nations often grapple with poverty, financial instability, and high levels of corruption—issues exacerbated by ongoing Western influence that subtly ensures these countries remain dependent and underdeveloped. The systemic impact of such historical exploitation contributes to a misleading perception that these nations are incapable of stability or prosperity. The lack of accurate representation and understanding of SWANA countries further entrenches the prevailing false narratives. If the true history of these nations were taught more comprehensively and if the voices of individuals from these regions and their diasporas were not only heard but actively highlighted, the dominance of Western narratives would be challenged. By elevating these authentic voices, we can unravel the misconceptions and biases that persist. Furthermore, a more inclusive and accurate portrayal of SWANA history and culture could foster a greater appreciation for these nations' rich heritage and contributions. This shift in understanding has the potential to weaken the control exerted by dominant Western narratives and support the rebuilding efforts of SWANA countries. By promoting a more nuanced and respectful dialogue, we can work towards altering the negative stereotypes and enabling these nations to reclaim their narrative and achieve a more equitable global standing. Ultimately, the journey from feeling like an outlier to advocating for a more informed and empathetic perspective requires collective effort and perseverance. Through education, representation, and dialogue, we can challenge and transform the prevailing narratives, paving the way for a more just and accurate understanding of SWANA cultures and histories.

My name is Tala Sahab and I am a daughter of two Lebanese immigrants. My entire life I have wanted to help others and to insight change. I hope that a future in political science and law will allow me to do both while using my empathy to an advantage. As a child I viewed Lebanon as this beautiful place that my family came from. Filled with rich history, some of the oldest buildings in the world, and most of my distant family, there was a lot to take in within the two weeks I got to go. At age four I wasn't fully able to comprehend why we would ever have to leave this amazing place where everyone danced on the streets and picked up a cheese manouche on the way home. Fourteen years later I understand why my parents moved and I am overly grateful for their sacrifices. I now recognize the importance of strong leadership and political stability. My parents have put me in a position where I can speak up for myself and I want to carry that same strength into my future career while implementing the empathy and peace I wish could be present within my parents home country. I feel emotions very deeply and have often felt as though that was a burden preventing me from prime productivity. I have made the effort to reframe that and instead treat my empathy as the skill that it is. Having a delicate heart and the ability to feel as deeply as I can is a gift that I do not want to take for granted. The world needs more kindness and deeper understanding. I want to prove that being a politician or lawyer does not equate to being heartless. I want to prove that disclosing emotion is brave and necessary rather than burdensome. I want to prove that stories are what allow for justice and change to occur. Although I may never be able to return to Lebanon, or see my distant family again, the story and legacy will always be within me. This piece of me will forever motivate me to be the best version of myself. I believe that I can offer a perspective that has not been previously voiced. I believe that I am capable of displaying the beauty in my culture that I saw when I was a four year old girl exploring Byblos for the first time. More than anything else, I believe that the backbone of leadership is empathy and awareness, both of which I have been able to obtain through my family's past. I hope to continue to learn and grow throughout the next four years of my life as I continue to make my family proud and prove to myself that I am capable of accomplishing my goals.