The non-recognition of Arabs in the US Census and its impact on the community
“What racial category do you choose when filling out US forms?” is a common question I often hear from my friends and family at home in Lebanon. Many of them are leaving Lebanon in one of the largest waves of migration the country has known, looking to continue their studies or careers abroad. Whenever they complete any American application, they cannot find a box that describes them, no box to tick that applies to Arabs.
Indeed, the US Census completely omits a whole social group; people from the Middle East and North Africa. The root of this omission is the Naturalization Act of 1790, which only allowed white immigrants to become American citizens. Because the government believed Muslims were non-white and assumed that all Muslims were Arab, Arabs could not be naturalized and therefore do not feature on the US Census (Beydoun, 2014). As a result, many Arab Christians used their religion to challenge that belief and be considered white, which enabled some Middle Easterners to acquire the American nationality. This early Arab assimilation with whiteness for the sake of citizenship shaped the way the Census collected information, and it remains unchanged today (Beydoun, 2014).
During my first semester of college in the United States, I made a personal decision to check “other race” instead of white. My identity and lived experiences are different, and I am not treated equally to white people. The tragic events of 9/11 have forever changed the realities of Arabs and Brown people in the United States to this day. People like me experience discrimination because of our race. I have been perceived as different, and sometimes even a security threat. It is, therefore, ironic that the government would only categorize my community and me as white.
This omission from the US Census permeates our daily lives. For instance, it carries economic consequences, hindering Middle Easterners from receiving government services established according to the census. “Maya Berry, executive director of the Arab American Institute, said this lack of proper representation has ‘deprived our community of access to basic services and rights,’ such as language assistance at polling places and educational grants” (Parvini, Simani, 2019). Arabs cannot rely on the US government to access resources made available to other social groups.
The omission also carries an emotional and social weight because conversations and initiatives centered on social justice and human rights often do not include the struggles of Middle Easterns. Arabness is invisible in American society; it is marginalized, considered at best as “other,” which, unfortunately, leads to a lack of education about my race and culture. This ignorance, in turn, facilitates instances of oppression and racism.
To illustrate this, I will share an anecdote that happened recently in my Diversity and Inclusion Graduate program. During one of my classes, a fellow student felt free to make a terrorist joke in the zoom chatbox. He thought he was being funny; it did not cross his mind that he was being racist. We all have unconscious biases, and our journey to becoming anti-racist is never-ending. However, I was confused and shocked that a student enrolled in a Diversity and Inclusion program, who theoretically has values that more or less align with mine, could deliberately make such an inappropriate and hurtful comment. A Muslim woman, a woman of color, and I were the only ones to react to his insensitive joke publicly. I was disappointed that this microaggression went largely unnoticed by my white classmates. When none of them spoke out against his comment, I realized that they did not understand how negatively such racist talk impacts Middle Eastern and Muslim communities. It serves to reinforce stereotypes and orientalist ideas perpetuated by the American media. However, I also realized that my classmates do not know better because they are not taught better. They are only exposed to a specific narrative; one that sadly distorts and silences our own.
There are about 3.7 million Arab Americans in the United States today, Arabs whose identity is still being denied (Measher, 2020). Our rich history needs to be taught and our contributions to the US recognized because education remains the best tool against discrimination and racism. It is time to give this racial group a box in the census, a voice in society, a full citizenship with full rights. It is time to affirm the democracy that shaped the nation and captivated the world so it can deliver on its promise of a just and egalitarian society where everyone, regardless of their identity, has equal access to a future of possibilities.
Work Cited
Beydoun, Khaled A. “America Banned Muslims Long Before Donald Trump.” The Washington Post, 18 Aug. 2016, https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/trumps-anti-muslim-stance-echoes-a-us-law-from-the-1700s/2016/08/18/6da7b486-6585-11e6-8b27-bb8ba39497a2_story.html.
Beydoun, Khaled A. “Between Muslim and White: The Legal Construction of Arab American Identity.” SSRN, 24 Nov. 2014, https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2529506.
Measher, Laura. “The 2020 Census Continues the Whitewashing of Middle Eastern Americans.” NBCNews.com, 21 May 2020, https://www.nbcnews.com/think/opinion/2020-census-continues-whitewashing-middle-eastern-americans-ncna1212051
Parvini, Sarah and Simani, Ellis “Are Arabs and Iranians White? Census Says Yes, but Many Disagree.” Los Angeles Times, 28 Mar. 2019, https://www.latimes.com/projects/la-me-census-middle-east-north-africa-race/