I am American. I am Jordanian. I am Palestinian. Even though I am from multiple places, I never truly felt “at home” anywhere. I’ve always felt different in some way. Throughout my life, I’ve frequently been asked the question, “Where are you from?” While this may seem like a simple question for most people, for me, there’s no right answer. Do I explain to them how my family fled Palestine when war broke out? How my parents grew up in Jordan, but I was born in the US? How I have 2 passports and 3 different IDs? More often than not, the answer is no. I say, “My family is from Palestine,” and move on, even though my identity is far more complex than that. Growing up, I was encouraged to pick one identity and stick with it. I chose to be Palestinian - not for practicality or comfort, but for something deeper: understanding my family’s history and struggles. During the 1950s, when Israel began to occupy Palestine, my great-grandparents fled to Jordan, leaving behind their homes in search of safety. That’s where both my parents and grandparents grew up, staying very close to their Palestinian roots. After my parents earned their degrees, they moved to America, where I was born and raised. Most summers, we visited Jordan to see our family, improve our Arabic, and hear stories reminding us of our identity. My diverse background and experiences taught me the importance of advocacy and resilience very early on. When I was in middle school, I begged my parents to take me to local protests. I helped advocate to make Eid an official holiday in the Hilliard City School District through speaking to the school board and getting petitions signed. Additionally, I urged the Dublin City Council to call for a ceasefire in Gaza, speaking in front of them many times. I’m also actively involved in local politics, working with both Dublin and Hilliard City Council candidates on their campaigns. This includes canvassing, organizing fundraisers, and more. Through these experiences, I’ve learned that part of leadership is using your voice to advocate for change. My recent trip to Palestine also enriched my perspective. There, I was surrounded by my extended family and the culture I thought I belonged to, yet I was still called an “outsider.” In the place that I considered home, I felt out of place. That experience taught me to build belonging through connection, service, and empathy. I am American, Jordanian, and Palestinian, but none of these things fully. My diverse background allows me to connect with people across boundaries and lead with empathy. Instead of being torn between identities, I now embrace them. I will take my identity and use it to unite, serve, and advocate for change. In the future, I want to create inclusive spaces where everyone is heard, advocate for minorities, and apply my perspective to engineer solutions. I want to leave a lasting impact on campus through leadership and collaboration.

I am American. I am Jordanian. I am Palestinian. Even though I am from multiple places, I never truly felt “at home” anywhere. I’ve always felt different in some way. Throughout my life, I’ve frequently been asked the question, “Where are you from?” While this may seem like a simple question for most people, for me, there’s no right answer. Do I explain to them how my family fled Palestine when war broke out? How my parents grew up in Jordan, but I was born in the US? How I have 2 passports and 3 different IDs? More often than not, the answer is no. I say, “My family is from Palestine,” and move on, even though my identity is far more complex than that. Growing up, I was encouraged to pick one identity and stick with it. I chose to be Palestinian - not for practicality or comfort, but for something deeper: understanding my family’s history and struggles. During the 1950s, when Israel began to occupy Palestine, my great-grandparents fled to Jordan, leaving behind their homes in search of safety. That’s where both my parents and grandparents grew up, staying very close to their Palestinian roots. After my parents earned their degrees, they moved to America, where I was born and raised. Most summers, we visited Jordan to see our family, improve our Arabic, and hear stories reminding us of our identity. My diverse background and experiences taught me the importance of advocacy and resilience very early on. When I was in middle school, I begged my parents to take me to local protests. I helped advocate to make Eid an official holiday in the Hilliard City School District through speaking to the school board and getting petitions signed. Additionally, I urged the Dublin City Council to call for a ceasefire in Gaza, speaking in front of them many times. I’m also actively involved in local politics, working with both Dublin and Hilliard City Council candidates on their campaigns. This includes canvassing, organizing fundraisers, and more. Through these experiences, I’ve learned that part of leadership is using your voice to advocate for change. My recent trip to Palestine also enriched my perspective. There, I was surrounded by my extended family and the culture I thought I belonged to, yet I was still called an “outsider.” In the place that I considered home, I felt out of place. That experience taught me to build belonging through connection, service, and empathy. I am American, Jordanian, and Palestinian, but none of these things fully. My diverse background allows me to connect with people across boundaries and lead with empathy. Instead of being torn between identities, I now embrace them. As a Morrill Scholar, I will take my identity and use it to unite, serve, and advocate for change. In the future, I want to create inclusive spaces where everyone is heard, advocate for minorities, and apply my perspective to engineer solutions. I want to leave a lasting impact on campus through leadership and collaboration. I would like to become an automotive engineer. Next year, I will be majoring in mechanical and electrical engineering in order to make myself a great candidate for jobs in that industry.

I am American. I am Jordanian. I am Palestinian. Even though I am from multiple places, I never truly felt “at home” anywhere. I’ve always felt different in some way. Throughout my life, I’ve frequently been asked the question, “Where are you from?” While this may seem like a simple question for most people, for me, there’s no right answer. Do I explain to them how my family fled Palestine when war broke out? How my parents grew up in Jordan, but I was born in the US? How I have 2 passports and 3 different IDs? More often than not, the answer is no. I say, “My family is from Palestine,” and move on, even though my identity is far more complex than that. Growing up, I was encouraged to pick one identity and stick with it. I chose to be Palestinian - not for practicality or comfort, but for something deeper: understanding my family’s history and struggles. During the 1950s, when Israel began to occupy Palestine, my great-grandparents fled to Jordan, leaving behind their homes in search of safety. That’s where both my parents and grandparents grew up, staying very close to their Palestinian roots. After my parents earned their degrees, they moved to America, where I was born and raised. Most summers, we visited Jordan to see our family, improve our Arabic, and hear stories reminding us of our identity. My diverse background and experiences taught me the importance of advocacy and resilience very early on. When I was in middle school, I begged my parents to take me to local protests. I helped advocate to make Eid an official holiday in the Hilliard City School District through speaking to the school board and getting petitions signed. Additionally, I urged the Dublin City Council to call for a ceasefire in Gaza, speaking in front of them many times. I’m also actively involved in local politics, working with both Dublin and Hilliard City Council candidates on their campaigns. This includes canvassing, organizing fundraisers, and more. Through these experiences, I’ve learned that part of leadership is using your voice to advocate for change. My recent trip to Palestine also enriched my perspective. There, I was surrounded by my extended family and the culture I thought I belonged to, yet I was still called an “outsider.” In the place that I considered home, I felt out of place. That experience taught me to build belonging through connection, service, and empathy. I am American, Jordanian, and Palestinian, but none of these things fully. My diverse background allows me to connect with people across boundaries and lead with empathy. Instead of being torn between identities, I now embrace them. As a Morrill Scholar, I will take my identity and use it to unite, serve, and advocate for change. In the future, I want to create inclusive spaces where everyone is heard, advocate for minorities, and apply my perspective to engineer solutions. I want to leave a lasting impact on campus through leadership and collaboration.