An Iraqi in America: ‘Time is like a sword’ here
It has been almost nine months since I arrived in the United States. I can’t believe how fast life is moving and how different my family’s days are now are from the old days—that was a beautiful time. Everything is changing now. There’s no simplicity for us anymore.
Meeting in the Roosevelt Room on Human Rights Day
Did you miss it? Yesterday was the 61st anniversary of the United Nation General Assembly’s adoption of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. President Barack Obama, as he was leaving for Oslo to accept the Nobel Peace Prize, declared December 10 Human Rights Day. To help mark it, his national security advisor, the retired Marine General James L. Jones, at…
An Iraqi in America: In the middle of nowhere
We are all stuck in the middle of nowhere. Millions in Iraq and millions outside it face an ambiguous future. Hundreds of thousands of Iraqis fled Iraq under Saddam’s regime, which lasted for almost 40 years, but since the led-American invasion in 2003 that number has exceeded 4 million, according to United Nations estimates.
An Iraqi journalist in America: Gathering my family
Nearly six months after my arrival in the U.S., most of my family has finally joined me in Arizona. Making the trip from Baghdad was my father, who turned 63 in October; my mother, who is 50; and my 16-year-old brother, Anas, who is very eager to discover this big country.
An Iraqi journalist in America: Finally … Red Lobster
Most of the Iraqi refugees who recently arrived in America were shocked by the economic situation here. I was prepared. I knew about the difficulties of finding a job in America, and I knew I could count on assistance from the American government through my status as a journalist with The New York Times. Even…
An Iraqi journalist in America: The other side of the war
It’s been more than three months since I realized one of my most important dreams by coming to the United States. Still, I never thought that I would come here as a refugee, maybe because my Iraqi dignity and pride simply wouldn’t accept such an idea.
An Iraqi in America: How I became a refugee (Part I)
On a cold winter evening–Jan. 29, 2004–I was getting ready to start my first night shift as an interpreter for the U.S. Army in Baghdad. It wasn’t really that cold, but my whole body was chilled. It was around 6 p.m. but already dark. I was an 18-year-old freshman in the College of Arts studying…
In a limbo between Baghdad and the U.S.
Before the war, I was an artist, a sculptor, and an art teacher in Baghdad. Life wasn’t so easy back then and I had to find another job in order to make a better living for myself and my wife and two kids, but even so, life was sweeter than it is now–I didn’t have…