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.

Currently, over 4 million people are living with traumatic brain injuries (TBIs), and the long-term effects can range from persistent headaches to serious mental health challenges. Seventeen years ago, I wouldn't have given much thought to the impact of a TBI. However, everything changed when my dad, who was both my primary caretaker and my guiding light, suffered a severe car accident. This accident not only altered the trajectory of his life but also fundamentally changed mine. My dad was a remarkable person. He had an innate ability to brighten any room he entered, making everyone feel at home, no matter how far they were from theirs. His presence was like the sun—warm, welcoming, and irreplaceable. But all of this changed drastically after his accident in 2007. Although he physically recovered after three months of intense rehabilitation, the emotional toll was far more profound. People often think of TBIs in terms of their physical impact, but the emotional and psychological consequences can be even more severe. My dad transformed from someone I confided in and shared everything with into a stranger I struggled to understand. His doctors reassured him that these changes were part of the healing process and that his brain simply needed time to recover. Yet, as time went on, the more he seemed unlike the person he once was. This emotional shift had a ripple effect on my own life, leading to my entry into the foster care system. Seven years later, when I aged out of the system, I was left grappling with a profound sense of loss, confusion, sadness, and guilt. A therapist once asked me if I harbored any anger toward my dad, and without hesitation, I answered "No." The therapist seemed surprised, and anticipating the follow-up question, I elaborated, "Because it wasn’t his fault. When he reported his behavioral changes to his doctor, he was told it was a normal part of the healing process. At that time, mental health issues were stigmatized, and therapy was often seen as a sign of weakness. My dad believed that seeking help would reflect poorly on him especially being a first generation immigrant" Today, I am encouraged by the growing acceptance of mental health discussions, but I yearn for a future where talking about mental health is not only normalized but seen as a sign of strength and respect. We must continue to challenge the stigma and create an environment where seeking help is encouraged, not discouraged especially with the immigrant population. I am currently enrolled at the University of Minnesota's Master's in Developmental Psychology Program. Through this program, I am aspire to continue studying the impacts of psychopathology-what the impacts of abnormal development are, and how we as a society can assist those individuals in the most effective and healing way possible. Thank you for your time and consideration.