Counter discrimination against the region

In April 2013, I wrote an article asking “Can I be an American Arab?”. It wasn’t focused on citizenship issues, although I really did want to be an American Arab. Being mindful of the reality that when Arabs move to America, they become Arab Americans, I thought it only fair that since I’m here I should be able to be an American Arab.

I wrote then, “Having a regional leadership expertise, I live here by choice. I’ve married into an Arab family, and live a life that is more tilted towards Arab culture than my fading American identity. I would be proud to be an American Arab!”

My real focus in that article was to encourage organisations to create a sense of belonging and provide employees with security in the midst of a work permit culture and get maximum commitment from their workforce. Exactly fourteen months after penning that article, I found myself standing in the Ministry of Interior with my thumb covered in ink, pressing on the Official Registry of Lebanon.

My dream came true. I became an American Arab.

I wear my Arab identity with pride. And its definitely a pride that outstrips my language abilities... while I can survive on Arabic, I have a long way to go. Nonetheless, when there is a line for Arab nationals, I immediately stand in it. If you look in my wallet, you’ll find two identities: one as a resident in the UAE and the other of a Lebanese citizen (I don’t carry my American ID).

Becoming an American Arab brought my hoped for sense of belonging to the part of the world that I chose to give my life to.

But recently I was shocked to see that it brought something else, something I didn’t expect — discrimination. That reads like such a strong word and in my naivety I wanted to pretend that the stories I’d heard about the bias against the Arab world weren’t true. But they are.

On December 8, the ‘Wall Street Journal’, asked its readers, ‘What was the Best Book You Read in 2015?’ They were asking a very similar question to what they did a year before, and when my book ‘10 Tips for Leading in the Middle East’ was voted the second best book.

I sent the link for the reader survey to a few of my friends, tweeted the link to my followers and sat back and waited. While waiting to hear the results and hoping that ‘Leadership Dubai Style’ would be the No. 1 book of 2015, I started getting emails from my readers telling me they had nominated the book. I was flattered as the emails continued to pour in.

Then on December 30, I experienced what I’m referring to as Arab discrimination (at least in a mild form). My book didn’t make the Top 5. I’d accept this if that was the readers’ opinion, but it wasn’t. The No. 1 book, ‘All the Light We Cannot See’ only received 19 votes. So, I went back and counted the emails I had received and there were 32 who said they voted for ‘Leadership Dubai Style’.

Perplexed and assuming there was some sort of mistake, I wrote to the editor who replied, “For this reader survey, we opted to include only titles from major publishers.”

This decision was only made after they received the votes and realised that not only would a book from this region be No. 1, it had substantially more votes than the others. That felt like biased prejudice.

I wrote back to the editor asking him how many votes did ‘Leadership Dubai Style’ receive? To my pleasant surprise, 75 readers had submitted it as the best book of the year. That’s more votes than the top five received. It was clearly the most recommended book.

Experiencing this made me realise something... we cannot sit back and allow others to be prejudiced against the work from the region. Instead we must work harder, make our work better so we have a voice that cannot be ignored.

I wanted to blame and fight them, but that would be useless. Instead I’m going to work harder for the region’s work to be noticed. Will you join me?

The writer is a CEO Coach and author, including his latest ‘Leadership Dubai Style’. Contact him at tsw@tommyweir.com