You may not be able to fix stupid, but I can
I love how we try to help one another out in the city, you see so many nice things occur that make you have to realize you’re witnessing the real NYC not something on tv or some stereotype that’s outdated. But the funny thing is as soon as you get into a subway station during peak hours all hell breaks loose.
The past now 4 mornings of commute have been some of the weirdest, funniest things to observe some of our fellow citizens. Union Square is always deep where you can’t tell who’s waiting for the 4,5 express or the 6. I’ve had to wait for 3-4 trains in the morning before I can board, no biggie it’s one stop and a few minutes, I don’t need to cause something that’s an everyday thing for me into chaos. Others apparently are willing to do anything.
I’ve seen men just crush, compacting old ladies with walkers, kids, etc. I’ve seen women with bags, swing away to earn their spot on the train. I guess some haven’t realized with their feeble minds that another train is coming by, and that they can keep their dignity and not ruin someone else’s commute. Today I reached my limit with stupidity. Stupid adults are exactly like children, except children usually have innocent intent, an adult that is stupid disregards the innocent, as their intent is selfish. Today I got on the 5 train, it was the 3rd train I waited for, plenty of room, letting others get on, it was seeming pretty roomy until a couple of bigger guys squirm their way in at all angles, pretty much smushed between a group but hey I saw the positive I didn’t have to search for something to hold on to for balance, I had everyone crammed around me.
Here’s where things got interesting for me, the guy infront of me short and stalky kept on acting like he was a small animal like a gerbil or guinea pig maneuvering in semi circles trying to find room that didn’t exist, not only that he was raising his short arms up to the ceiling of the train he kept on reaching for but was too short to hold to anything, he was also trapped, but when he would move around his hips would be crammed into my belly, and my back right against the guy behind me, a little irritating as it makes it harder to breath, I let him do this a few times, but then I had to do some parenting on him. Sometimes with stupid people you’ve got to tell them what’s going on because they’re too dumb to realize it, kind of like the person at Starbucks who orders a Medium coffee and they hear you call you out Grande, and then they call you stupid, except in reality they are stupid, can’t even order off a menu. I told this guy calm down, put your hands down and stay still, you’re trapped like all of us, and you’re also making it hard for me and the gentleman behind me. He looked at me with discontent, anger showing in his eyes, but I wasn’t going to let this get out of hand nor let this guy think he was right. Right before he was about to speak, a “suit” as I call it helped him put his hands down to show him how none of us are able to move. What you should be thinking about on the train is about how you’re affecting others, if you’re panicing you’re probably also making someone panick from your movements. Calm down, enjoy the thrill of public transportation, and just learn to respect one another.
5 years ago when I moved out here I was boggled at the things that the MTA had to announce on the train such as a crowded train is no excuse for sexual harassment, or about where to throw away litter, but now after 5 years I understand why, it’s a sad truth but stupid people are everywhere, the only way to help fix it is if you let them know they’re doing something stupid, if not well have fun with stupidity surrounding yourself everyday. Cause we all believe this “Can’t fix stupid” saying, but if you’re not saying/correcting it, then you’re not fixing stupid, and if it’s anything I’ve learned through jobs and everyday life it’s that there are a lot of stupid people out there, who have the added quality of being just as mean.
My So Called Egyptian Life
While I’m looking at what’s trending on twitter right now I couldn’t help but notice how much stuff worldwide is all here in America. But right now in a country called Egypt, a revolution actually the 2nd revolution in as many years is underway.
You maybe wonder what’s this white guy care so much about something other than USA. Well it’s because I actually happen to be Egyptian, the son of two Egyptian immigrants who came over here to live the American dream but have never forgotten their loved ones, and their homeland.
Egypt is a weird country to talk about throughout the USA, first thoughts to most people are ridiculous subjects, like the Bangles, the Pyramids, and Pharaohs and worshiping cats. Sadly what’s overlooked out of these, it’s white people who made a crappy song about how a race of people walk, the pyramids are structures that you gaze at in awe of how they were built but people don’t realize also the slavery that is associated with the building of them, pharaohs the first dictators including a 12 year old, and yes old religions throughout their times involved weird things like that, just ask the Romans and Greeks about going to their stone gods offering sacrifices. Good thing we don’t do this anymore.
My parents had fled her in the the early 70’s due to the current condition of Egypt, my dad always claimed it would get worse from Anwar Sadat, to Abdel Nasser, to Mubarak. Each of them was the same a dictator, a man controlled by religious clerics that persecuted a minority now. Unfortunately that’s where my lineage traces from the minority. The Coptic people aka the Copts. The Copts once controlled this beautiful land in peace, while still being known as descendants of the ancient pharaohs. Then Mohammed came through with his plundering, raping, and killing and Islam had taken over Egypt along with many other countries. The Copts would be forgotten by many elsewhere but my people held in there.
My dad had told me of growing up a Copt, you’d get a salib or cross tattooed at a young age to let Muslims know you were proud of who you were as there was a heavy tax for Copts, along with threats, a language that sounded beautiful like Greek, Coptic was replaced with Arabic yet the Coptic people kept in involved in their churches. The taxes weren’t the worst of it, as killings, raping of women, and marrying underage women to convert them to Islam were committed. This went on for a long time. My dad brings up the many times having to stand up for his brothers’ safety constantly fighting as even the kids are taught to hate them because of their religion. My dad would tolerate this. As every young man when he graduates college must do he must serve in the army, you can’t escape as without the papers you can’t work, you can’t leave this land. You must bid the serving of your country. But is it really your country when your leaders are influenced by a religion, and your country has made it their official religion and using that to persecute the “nonbelievers”. That hit home in 1967, when my father and 5 of my uncles were in the army, and the 6 day war was approaching. My dad had survived his time in the Sahara desert living off of 4 lbs a month, eating bugs, and the dry desert eat. One thing he wasn’t willing to do was give up his life for this hatred, as fundamentalists Muslims have always carried a hatred for Israel along with every other group of people, whether it be because of wanting full control of Jerusalem, fighting for the Palestinians, or their hatred of Jewish people. My family had always been pro Israel and had known of its great military and known the great doom that lied ahead for Egypt. Luckily having an older brother who was high ranking dispersed my dad and uncles across the country to station that protected them from fighting in the ensuing massacre. I know this wasn’t only a turning point for my dad and uncles but also for my siblings, my cousins, and myself because without this happening there’d be no way we’d be born.
It was after that my dad went for employment„ an accountant with a degree, and all my dad could find were teaching jobs, with a low income, and 8 engagements failed (engagements are a different term culturally in Egypt compared to here, in the sense engagements means a committed dating relationship) mainly due to his poor wages and no potential of increasing value many fathers refused the relationships to develop. It was at this point my dad had thought about leaving for America which was still very rare at this time to immigrate, especially to a faraway land and without knowing no one really there. My dad decided to go thinking this was the only way for him to succeed and avoid the violence that he foresaw. My dad had his papers processed, and he met my mom, after 3 days of knowing each other my parents were engaged, unfortunately my mother would have to wait for her papers while my dad had to go.
My dad lived in Jersey City, Sipp and Kennedy Avenue, living with 8 others in a cramped apartment while working security and going for his masters at Long Island University. When my mom came, they moved out to Queens while my dad was an auditor. Wanting to start a family, and my dad getting a job offer for the Texas state government they moved out west.
Dallas ended up becoming a safe haven for Egyptians, as the top destinations were New York, California, Texas was right up there as there was a good percentage of Egyptians along with immigrants from Mexico. It helped that my dad helped his brothers come over one by one and staying with us until they were on their feet. At one point growing up I thought it was normal to have your family living on one block, not like Everybody Loves Raymond, I mean 5 houses all on the same block.
Texas in the 80’s was starting to boom it helped you didn’t have to pay state taxes. Many people of all races would flock there, it was beautiful, looking back life seemed so pure compared to now as I recall my brother 4 years older than me having a group of friends diverse in background, something I don’t take for granted now. Things weren’t always great, it was at age 4 I learned that being Egyptian, also meant racism existed, having towelhead spraypainted on a few garages, and a kid bully your older brother for a period of a year because of him being different didn’t make me excited for going to school. Ever hear a 4 year old come up to his dad to ask him what a towelhead is? Or a father having to find his oldest son climbing a fence after being thrown into a backyard where a violent dog had roamed. Things that shouldn’t have to happen to anyone, anywhere, but I guess this is life and the world we grow up in and knowing now that things are worse off for others never makes me feel better.
It was around this time my dad had gotten laid off, he went through a short period of unemployment, during this time my family had started migrating out east, my dad had enjoyed not having to pay state taxes, but with a family he didn’t want to go somewhere with a high crime rate and high taxes. That’s when he landed a job with the Department of Defense as an accountant in St.Louis, at first it involved him traveling many military bases, and so we had to stay in Texas until things settled, for a bout a year we’d only get to see my dad on occasional weekends of holiday breaks, each parent proving their strength and putting the family first. It was at this point, my dad had gotten work to help get him out of one bedroom apartment to a hotel suite to house the family until his traveling ceased and could find a house.
You maybe thinking living in a penthouse of a hotel is great, like eat your heart out Kevin Mccallister, unfortunately this hotel was in the city. For a short period of time, I missed out on 1st grade, who cared about learning cursive when you have an indoor pool. Yes! Well one day my dad told us a school bus would be coming to get us, this was a new concept as I had either walked with my mom or been driven to school. So I was rather excited. Here’s what would happen, we’d be the last stop either way full of kids in the morning who would have to drive all the way up the parking garage of the hotel to pick us up, apparently this isn’t the right way to make friends, oh and then they find out your folks are foreign. Well they don’t call Missouri the show me state for any other reason, they definitely showed me their hate, thank god for having an older brother who had to stand up for me everyday fighting off bullies, it probably didn’t help around this time a speech problem had started to show in me, and go untreated until my 3rd school I would attend in 1st grade. Thankfully we soon moved.
I remember what the suburbs were like, peaceful, less hostile than the city. It felt good to walk between rooms and have a yard. I got to actually see a bus stop and meet the neighborhood kids who always had some of the weirdest questions. The first one I remember being asked was if we spoke hieroglyphics, I know, this would happen so much in my life, I’d start playing along with them going, parrot parrot cat cat. Sadly some still believed we do, even with a response like that. I never really got what my heritage meant as a young child, considering I was disgracing it continuously with my speech problem, instead of saying Egyptian, I would say Gypsie, and think I had said Egyptian correctly and not realize why the other kids were laughing at the foreign kid with the speech problem.
It’s funny to look back on how people wanted to know about other cultures, it’s so easy there are these things called books, or many different channels that had specials about other cultures, the easiest thing to do would also be to have an open conversation and get to know them. While we were “accepted” into the neighborhood that at one point segregated a neighbor from Vietnam, an African American family, and a lesbian couple, I learned to not trust people so well, as any given day some kids would try treating you as 2nd class citizen. Note to past self, sorry for playing smear the clear, which whenever I’d get the ball would get renamed to smear the queer or Tut, depending on my “friends” attitudes on that given day and included running into birdbaths in fear of the mob of kids looking forward to the beat down. Not wanting to depress my folks, I would say oh you know we’re friends, and that it was my fault my clothes got torn up or that I’d have bruises all over.
Then there was the time in 5th grade two boys got tired of me playing sports with the rest of the class and wanted to put an end to it as “I didn’t belong here”. They had jumped me, but in the worst fashion had taken turns, it was my first fight, I basically made my knuckles go crooked for the rest of my life, but I did break one of their noses and got the others one’s bloody. While at the time I felt great defending myself, I didn’t want to become some animal, this wasn’t the way my folks were raising me. They were teaching me to love everyone, but I kept on wondering why does my love sometimes get this type of reaction to want to hurt me. I’d just come home that day with blood on my clothes, and them stretched out a bit, just saying i got caught on a hook and hurt myself. There’s a reason by 5th grade I was doing laundry on my own, not to make my parents proud, but to hide the shame of their son.
My dad clearly knew I was lying to him, although he would see the adult version of this game.
A handyman who was helping my dad finish the basement, stole his tools, after telling my dad he couldn’t work for a foreigner. My dad didn’t beat him physically, he took him and well even me after school to small claims court at the time I didn’t realize why he was so happy, it wasn’t the money or that his rusty tools were coming back to him, it was that he got a racist punished.
Later on my dad would be getting an estimate on repairing a washer/dryer and the diagnostic charge was $250 instead of free as advertised, when my dad refused to pay it because he wasn’t wanting to be cheated, he was told “Go back to your country” what really hurt was that I was downstairs and thinking how could this dirty looking guy tell my dad this in his own house. Let’s just say this wouldn’t be the the last time this would be said, yes even including in my dad’s house in front of family members.
In 7th grade, I was drawn as a monkey, so depressed as I had gone through the public school system this far taking verbal abuse and bullying for being different. I had burned the paper up in a plastic trash can almost burning the house down. After my folks found out what happened my dad had gone back to his childhood and tried to teach me to fight, instead of fighting for his brothers, he was fighting for his kids, as this time now my sister with Epilepsy was receiving even harsher treatment from her peers, never have I hurt more in my life then hearing a gang of kids call my sister “Retard Egyptian” even when countless pairs of eyeglasses were broken, not as broken as my heart or spirits as this was the time I had started to bottle up rage. Grandparents day was always tough having to explain that at the time I had 2 living grandma’s and that they were both in Egypt and it’s hard to tell Egypt they need a visa stat to come out fo Mike’s grandparents day and yet a teacher here and there would mention one of my classmates got their grandma from Peru out would just make me feel worse especially as each year I was given token grandparents to tagalong with.. Not everyone who wanted to come could come, sometimes they’d need to be sponsored by a citizen which my parents could do but didn’t always go through which then meant for desperate measures, becoming an illegal alien. It’s not only Mexicans who do this, every walk of life is doing this from Haiti, to China, people will do anything to seek a better life for them and their loved ones.
People I guess in my neighborhood had never really asked my dad about his job, I could tell once when we had begging my dad to get cable, finally the old man got what he called a cable, just a humongous satellite dish. It didn’t people at ease that this thing would move throughout the day, especially when I learned how to descramble PPV and porn on this, moving it from east to west little by little. I had been putting the neighbors in a tense state of mind without knowing it. You could tell from the questions they had their children interrogating me about, asking if my dad was monitoring missiles or about to shoot one off. This is why I don’t respect conspiracy theorists, instead of them knowing about the situation and getting to know the truth, they come up with these ridiculous notions.
I remember just when I got to high school, I had the thought 4 more years, and you’re out of this, like this was all going to end once I graduated, it’s like I hadn’t learned that some would always have this mentality that other groups of people were inferior or to be treated less then another, rather then appreciate the diversity of each other.
Maybe that’s why when I caught NWA and Snoop Dogg in middle school my rage could relate to seeing how others were being treated in other areas where they felt nothing was being done. The only difference they knew why and sang about it, at 14 I still had no clue what it meant to be Egyptian American, well except that Egyptians were to blame for the World Trade Center, which is something to never brag about which is probably why my people rely on the pyramids and pharaohs to talk about their heritage.
Having honors classes in high school helped to a certain degree, but even kids considered intelligent weren’t loving. Freshman year I’d been constantly picked on a group of nerdy guys just trying to pick up their esteem by picking on me, flicking me is the best way to get my temper to this day as I had to face this everyday, had it killed any of my teachers to actually notice this crap, or when i was in my desk and it flipped over not once but on 2 different occasions, or the affectionately known term of Shawki Sheckles. It was like all white people whether or not they are involved in will enjoy these things as entertainment. Then again though was this my fault I never spoke up, I just expected someone else to do the right thing for me.
Sophomore year I thought was going to be good year closer to the end, World History Honors, and learning the term ethnocentric, wow I really found a teacher who was intelligent teaching me stuff I had been forced to know at an early age, as my folks thought developing our young minds on world views were important, my dad had wanted us to become doctors, lawyers, a president possibly. All it did was humble me seeing what other kids were dealing with, flipped over desks, and names were nothing to what these kids were dealing with. Well turns out my teacher may haven’t been ethnocentric but he was just like the rest, joining in the class as using me as an example, I just wanted to blend in with the rest of the crowd, using me as an example while making fun of me in the process never helped. This right around my 3rd treatment of steroids for Crohn’s which I had been diagnosed with right before freshman year was causing me to slowly have suicidal thoughts. To think everyday it was a challenge to look at myself in the mirror and have any positive views of myself as I knew once I did I’d walk into school and they would be quickly diminished. I was weak, couldn’t stand up for myself, and well there was not an older brother anymore to settle the score or protect me. The worst part I still didn’t know why I was receiving this treatment, was this some Egyptian curse from my parents as kids going into pyramids that passed on to their middle child?
It didn’t make things easier that kids I had grown up and become close friends with a few who had been one of the few things keeping me going whether it was lunch or one class I had with them at least there was someone there I knew who didn’t hate me, and at one point started a band with had gone on to another high school opened up, and the neighborhood I had grown accustomed to it’s weird racisim, I was left in a neighborhood of young couples and hardly any kids, I had basically become a suicidal loner with neighbors lurking through blinds and wondering what we were. That’s a weird way for one human to walk up to another on What are you? I’ve learned you need to answer this quick or else 50 or so different ethnicity some here mispronounced, some made up, and all that’s left is you embarrassed.
It was also sophomore year though that I didn’t realize this but I would become saved by a great friend. My best friend Doug, as this loner had even been ditched by the 3 other loners in English Literature honors and left to sit by himself for 2 days, think it’s a small issue, but under the steroids, your head makes you paranoid, wondering what other kids had felt about you, what made me unlikable, I hadn’t said anything wrong, I wasn’t quiet but I wasn’t putting anyone down. Why?
Then a hail mary got tossed, the previous year my English honors teacher would write down the names of everyone having a birthday, and memorial day weekend was a whole bunch of us, my name had looked like Miles Chuckie that a few kids noted and we laughed about, one of their friends later on in the day referred to me as Miles Chuckie and I simply said hey. I was so passive I wouldn’t even correct my name. I went on the rest of the year with Doug going under the name Miles Chuckie. Little did I know this exchange would be the first time I called anyone a best friend, and a brother not by blood but by actions. Doug had found an empty seat ironically it would be surrounded by my best friend, and my roommate in freshman year. Things started getting good when you have someone to talk about these things but also just to be a kid.
Junior year we would learn a lot about ourselves, in an earlier blog post you’ll see how our first party went, and didn’t so good for me especially getting an atomic wedgie and vomiting soon afterwards isn’t very fun especially in front of your first crush.
Senior year came and went, almost going at the speed I had wanted it too. Fast. I was ready to get out.
It was in college, that Doug and me had gone off to after high school, somehow I stayed in the very state I had grown contempt for, but to be close to my elderly parents in case of an emergency and to have my best friend there made it a trade off to go to the state school I had fondly rooted for in sports, and known was a party school a fresh start I was promised.
First day started introducing myself as Mike, I’d never attempted to do this nor had I had ever been called this name outside of my family’s home. I’d always gotten Shawki, as there were not only 4 other Mike’s I went and had classes with at least, but also a Mike S. Later that day my roommate told everyone to call me Shawki, and that they did. Fresh start tossed out the window.
Two pivotal things happened to me late freshman year into my sophomore year in college
I joined a fraternity that had been brought back on campus. a fraternity that wasn’t your typical one as it had brought back a fond memory of my brother and his friends in Texas, at one point they had assembled a team within our chapter called, Team Minority, there was a Mexican, an African American, an Indian, Vietnamese, Russian and myself. I dodn’t know what the function was besides I guess to help show and recruit members of other races to show we were equal. Well we were supposed to be hazed by another chapter, a chapter from an engineering school where all they had to do was study, drink, watch porn, and be racist. One of the things they had to do was give us nicknames, and jerseys with names. All they had asked us to do was tell us one thing about ourselves, and at the time two things I had been known by was that I was stabbed at 17, and that my folks were Egyptian. Well my buddy Mark, mentioned I was Egyptian, there was my 1 thing. The next day we find out jerseys on a bed, and my nickname “Sandnigger” I was shocked didn’t know what to say, it was the first time I had seen or been called this name. I showed Mark who didn’t look happy as he was African American and we were expecting his name to be you know minus the sand. Nope Marky Mark, I had to play in this jersey for 3 games, some of the refs during these games had no problem calling me by name. Guys from the Kansas City area were mad at me, going well that’s what you are, WTF! They would say this during poker at our duplexes, thinking what the hell am I doing here with these people, I know they are going to do this in public, and sure enough they did, my roommate Dave had shouted it at me after I won a game of Cricket playing darts. It caused a potential beatdown of Dave which part of me wanted, and the other part taught to love had to stop this from getting worse. I ended up buying a group of fellows who were African American some beers and talked with them about it. I kept on going I know I know but he’s my buddy, he wasn’t so much a buddy just a guy who paid 1/4 of rent. I ended up telling go ahead and do what you guys want to do I can’t control this situation, which meant Dave got beat up in the parking lot. I really couldn’t as I had been battling with these racists about the term, how I knew they would go ahead becoming so confident in using it out in public, and how I didn’t want that to occur and fro them to stop using the word, and how even after this situation continued to use the term.
9/11 I had gone into St.Louis with a girlfriend and some friends for Krispy Kreme donuts and to show a friend the Arch, an hour and half ride. No one knew what would happen. I had come in pretty late that morning and fell asleep as it was just another day. I walked by everyone crowded around the tv, and went to class still not knowing at 9:50 AM CST what had happened, walking through the commons area and an African American gentleman on a bike got in an aggressive stance and said “It’s all because of you Sandniggers” Before I could compose myself, he rode off, I was left confused remember I don’t know what happened yet, so part of me felt I hate to say this official, as most people had assumed I was the adopted child of my folks, since I don’t look Egyptian, which is weird to think that there’s some guideline on how races can look, I guess people would be surprised to see White Egyptians there are, but I still can’t believe I dealt with this from a slur, a slur I had just battled with months previously in the fraternity. The other part of me enraged, as I had no good feelings towards this man for using that on me. I walked to class, Philosophy thought by Dr. Markie, I really was a horrible student in college, if you were a professor who put notes online, I didn’t go, but each time I went to Dr. Markie’s class I saw motivation in this teacher and wanting to keep going there. It was this moment where a friend Bridgette had said oh my gosh did you see what happened, and then Dr. Markie took the floor, sobbing (yes real men do cry) pouring out his emotions as to what happened, and discussed with the class with how everyone was feeling and to remember to not take the hate out on others who were innocent and let us go. I was in shock, had this been Egyptians again I thought, as I had a bad connotation with my race, that whenever it was in the news it was something bad. I raced quickly back home and was peeled to the tv for hours, talking with my parents, as my dad had said these were just things he expected. He’d quote the Quran, the book they make every Egyptian child whether you’re Muslim or not read in class. My dad had studied this book trying to find out what motivated these things and he quoted it, and then saying this was just the start, as he had his experience with fundamental Islam and the things they were willing to do. The punishments that incurred meant also Visa’s were being put on hold, and that some countries would just deny you, which meant you were being held captive in your own hell. This would then cause many to have to come over here illegally, kind of weird how people think the immigration/illegal alien problem are always linked to Mexico, what about other nations that are troubled, many people across this world share the same goals, same things that every human being deserves in this world to live their life in freedom, without persecution for having different beliefs, to raise a family and be able to support them.
I have seen this firsthand and never been prouder of my cousins who have taken this plunge, to another country, to work odd end jobs or jobs that pay $3 an hour and working 80 hours a week and living with many in a cramped apartment and still made it out to be doing well and happy where they are, the only sad thing is knowing there is a lot of family they left behind that won’t either take the risks, or are too old/sick to come over.
It’s sad for the first 20 years of my life being Egyptian wasn’t something I either liked being known as, or didn’t realize how proud I should be. To see the sacrifices, and know what family and friends have had to deal with. Horrible dictators Anwar Sadat, Nasser, and Mubarak. Each one just getting worse with not just their lack of treatment for minorities but also with the people as a whole. The aid from the United States was being embezzled and not much being put into its citizens. After 9/11 things changed, anyone in my family knows the random TSA screenings are invalid after showing your ID to them and being searched and having your suitcases thoroughly searched each and every time. To see the looks on people asking what your last name is from, and you tell them and in the midwest you’ll see the look of regret on someone’s face for asking. Any problem that involves law enforcement gets you a little harsher with it’s punishment, I can count on two hands the number of times I have been shoved into a police car, with my head down and cuffed for doing the things typical college students do and are typically written a citation and let go, I’ve had a charge of obstruction of justice charge thrown out of court thank god to a just judge who couldn’t condone me throwing a red cup at a party when the cops showed to be associated with harsh violent and heinous crimes. It would be this treatment, this knowing I was different that would soon make me realize to no longer feel ashamed because of this but to be proud I could say of who I am and where I came from and what my relatives had all fought to do to get here.
You can tell even the joking of Middle Easterners is hacky and just narrow minded, I’ve lost count of how many impressions of my family involved an Indian accent, don’t people realize in geographical terms how far Egypt is from India? That’s actually both insulting to both races, do you do poor Ghandi or Mother Theresa jokes.
Years would go by and I’d just have to hear the countless tragedies still occurring in Egypt, with my parents stopping going back on their annual trip because of how dangerous the situation was getting. Egyptians would march outside the UN hoping for some intervention into the cruel treatment of the people, the living conditions were getting worse. Then it happened a famine struck along with the dwindling country. The camels back broke and something extraordinary occurred The people of Egypt came together led by the youth to fight for their rights, and to get Mubarak to step down. The last time the people had come together peacefully had been with the apparition of St. Mary in 1968. The people led a standoff that other countries in the Middle East were doing, they all had enough of their cruel leaders who ruled with a fist, and imprisoned and tortured the innocent while profiting off of the aid. Arab Spring had occurred. There was a lot of good, unfortunately the conditions of these protests allow for looters and terrorist groups, yes the Muslim Brotherhood is exactly Hamas, would make the streets dangerous. Due to these conditions I lost an uncle who couldn’t make it to a hospital in time and had died. It’s what didn’t allow my dad and uncles from attending a wake/funeral for their brother, the pain that caused my dad and family was very saddening. No one knew what would be the result of these protests, all there was hope. Then it happened Hosni stepped down and Egypt would soon become a democratic state. There would no longer a president who ruled like a king, at least that’s what the hope was. The Egyptians were rushed to adjust quickly instead of having someone in the interim representing the country. In this fashion the government and elections were done in haste, not many candidates and what you knew about them besides if they had relations to the former regime were known. The Muslim Brotherhood couldn’t let go of political power, fearing that with a democratic state that would put an end to it and their lust for hate and killing. In the elections it was a a candidate who worked for the Mubarak regime and Morsi, all the people knew for sure was they didn’t want any of Mubarak’s men in charge, and just like the United States it’s a politician you’re voting for, sometimes you’re voting for who is less evil, Morsi was the guy voted in as the first elected president although many didn’t know much about him and what the Muslim Brotherhood’s agenda was during these new conditions for the country. They would soon find out in Morsi’s quick attempt to act like a dictator without a parliament and wanting to assume all power. It was this that triggered many to realize that Morsi just was another puppet for the brotherhood, and yet the United States was fine with this and his actions for the next year. For the next year the famine and economic conditions still were bad, the treatment of people was still poor, killings of Coptics went on the rise, many would be thrown into prisons for accusations of defaming Mohammed’s name, ring a bell country with no freedom, and one religion only, this was the Gestapo reincarnated. This wasn’t the first leader who had persecuted the church, considering the late Pope Shenouda III was under house arrest and at one point exiled.
Morsi was at it, and had the backing of the Brotherhood who was striking fear in the people, but you have nothing to fear but fear itself, the people gathered again knowing that Morsi wasn’t the man. They gathered telling him to step down. The first time an elected political official was being not just asked, demanded to step down. Such an amazing thing, as just like any job you are evaluated, if you’re not doing a good job they can terminate you, and the Egyptian people had treated it as this, he was failing the people, and in the words of Donald Trump and every manager across the world “You’re Fired” The media in America would consider this a coup d etat a french term. Due to the military protecting the people in this cause, as last time the police were the ones hurting the people. Many on the media when talking to an Egyptian person at the scene wouldn’t listen to them stand up for the cause and tell them it wasn’t a coup as the military was staying out of the political arena, a la Anderson Cooper who shut one down and wanted to have his freedom to use the term. Sure you can use the term but make sure you remember you are reporting the news accurately, which our media in TV can’t do due to ratings and the 24 hour news cycle.
In a long standoff that still hasn’t ended Ihave never been prouder then see the Egyptian people who are owning up to doing this incorrectly last time and want to do this right, want to make sure they get to elect someone who is going to take care of the people.
People in America may think differently due to the brainwashing of media, but the biggest thing is that the United State won’t have a puppet there, and hopefully the next ambassador who is in Egypt isn’t making backroom deals with the hate groups who persecute the people. If you look at the United States, we aren’t that strong with terorist groups sure we got Osama but look at us making deals with groups like the Muslim Brothehood or Taliban, whatever happened for being the good guys, not making some business decision that involved oil or power and not caring about the people.
Right now it seems Egypt is well on its way to achieving it’s goals and to be know for more then the pyramids and pharaohs, and it’s past leaders oppressing the people. Right now I’ve never been happier to say I’m happy to be Egyptian American.