I’m still feeling very strange and not quite over August 17th. This whole Bernie Sanders thing is hitting some very personal spots for me.
See, looking as I do, and having been treated as I have my entire life, both by strangers and family, I’ve always questioned the essence of my being. While, on paper, I am entitled to check the Caucasian box, I’ve never felt as white as any of my cousins, or as Jewish as my mom, as Arabic as my dad or any combination thereof.
As I left lives in North Africa, the Middle East, and resettled here, at home, in the place of my birth and decided to leave all the tribal nonsense behind, it all comes right back in the form of politics. No longer am I a progressive and a voice for racial, social, and economic justice. On August 17, I woke up a white supremacist because I accept Bernie Sanders and reject the Clintons as I would reject a former abuser.
I am not deaf to the silence of those who used to be cordial. I am not blind to the currents that are sweeping people away, apart from each other. But over what? What are we moving toward? A return to the familiar? Was it that good?
The funny part is that any real white supremacist, looking at me, would persecute, and not accept me.
I didn’t change on the night of August 16th. I woke up the same person on the 17th and I loved you then as I loved you the night before.
So, where do I belong and who do I belong to?