How Morocco has shaped my identity as a young adult and aspiring scholar (Part 3)

By Anna Jacobs

Morocco World News

Traveling and immersing oneself in other perspectives makes us see ourselves for who we really are. Morocco challenged me and supported me when I needed it. The most essential lessons of all came through the many personal relationships I developed there. They taught me my own limitations, which has helped me cultivate a better understand of human beings, culture, and the world around me.

I had thought myself open minded and educated and yet I had put myself and one of the people I loved most into categories with a plethora of biased assumptions going along with them. I realized that I always said that I respected different opinions, beliefs, cultures, and ways of life--but it wasn’t until I lived in Morocco that I began to realize how this was not always true. I also suffered from misguided judgments, prejudice, and pride. Luckily for me, the people I have met--in Morocco, the United States, and many other countries-- have helped me begin the process of truly opening my mind to the beauty and possibilities that can be found in difference. I do not want to claim that my relationship with my boyfriend has been easy--we do have significant differences in opinions ranging from religion to sexuality to politics. But I began to realize that I was blind to our commonalities. His devotion to Islam and his faith is how he negotiates questions of ethics and social problems relating to poverty, patriarchy, nationalism, and identity. And, without being as aware of it, my christian upbringing plays a role in my negotiation of these very same issues. Though of course it doesn’t have to be religion--it can be any element that has touched your life and helps you make sense of it.

Self-awareness is a lifelong process and residing in other countries facilitates this endeavor, or at least it did for me. My privileged upbringing was rooted in the American dream, promulgating a tenacious and unshakable work ethic. The idealistic notion that “anything is possible,” was ingrained in me as a child, and I am incredibly grateful for that. The proverbial  “pull yourself up with your own bootstraps,” may come to mind.  Yet, the other proverb I remember, that my southern, traditional grandparents would always remind me,  also stuck. They would look me straight in the eye after reminding me about the importance of hard work and say, “But don’t think for one second that life is always that simple. Don’t ever forget that a nation should always be judged on its weakest and its poorest. Never get too big for your own boots and forget your fellow man.”

While few doubt the allure and possibilities of the American dream, economic mobility is a rare breed in twenty-first century America. Economic inequality  is now the order of the day.  Nonetheless, these two pieces of advice and the American dream that they stand upon significantly affected in my worldview. This view was both challenged and cultivated through my education in the United States and my second home country, Morocco. Throughout my life it has kept me always thinking and dreaming about where to go and what to do--the possibilities were endless. I used to think this mentality was inherent, but I have since learned that the power of possibility goes hand in hand with human dignity and human rights--a luxury that we do not all share.

In the end Morocco taught me lessons about more than its own society, politics, and religion--it made me look at my own opinions and my own upbringing in a whole new light. People are people. While culture is ubiquitous--and its structural prowess in framing our questions and debates cannot be overstated-- closely observing and understanding the immense diversity in Morocco has allowed me to better understand my own Southern, rural heritage, one that I am so quick to judge and dismiss. Yes you can find Fox News on a plethora of television stations, but you also find immense ethnic and political diversity in this historical land of tradition and hospitality.

The south was home to Jim Crow, but it was also home to the individuals and organizations that broke down this seemingly impenetrable system of racism and hatred. People here and throughout the country continue to fight the systematic racism that permeates this country--whether that be in the shape of racial profiling, economic immobility, or mass incarceration.  This system has taken countless victims and has rationalized innumerable injustices--the most recent being seventeen year old Trayvon Martin. The Zimmerman case is a classic example of the American system. While “we are a nation of laws,” we are also a nation of civil rights, political engagement, and democracy. Holding the system and its powerful institutions accountable is where the real beauty of our political culture lies.

In the end, my transition from a tourist to a resident in Morocco required me to make the intellectual and psychological leap from judgement to discernment, if I was to not go mad in trying to understand the seemingly endless flow of contradictions I was trying to decipher.  Furthermore, while I was raised in a cultural context that was limiting at times, the difference was that I was capable and able to acknowledge this and make the choice to broaden my horizons.  Both sides of my family are proud southern families whose faith has been the cornerstone of their existence--but in this case it has engendered a strong sense of education, human rights activism, and political and social engagement in my family.  The same goes for Islam, or any religion for that matter--it can be manipulated and utilized to promote fear mongering and marginalization, but we too often forget that it also the foundation of the hope and belief that keeps millions of people living, breathing, and helping others.

America is having to come to terms with its foreign policy debacles in the Middle East--but not everyone voted for George Bush, nor Barack Obama for that matter. In fact, voter turnout hovers around half of potential voters--which means that less than half of American citizens vote in presidential elections. What does this mean? It means that I should not assume Moroccans share the same opinions as their politicians, and also that Moroccans should not assume the same about me. Living and learning how to listen in Morocco has helped me better understand my country, my culture, my heritage, and myself. Sometimes all it takes is another perspective. Luckily for me, this is just chapter one.

Anna Jacobs graduated from the University of Virginia with degrees in Government, Foreign Affairs, and French literature. She will be starting a Master of Philosophy program in Modern Middle Eastern Studies at the University of Oxford this fall. She is Morocco World News’ assistant Editor.