The Question Everyone Asks Me (or, How I got into International Development)

It can take many different forms, but the question is almost always the same: how did YOU end up doing THIS? I get it all the time, from people in the US, the Middle East, Europe, even my own friends and family. When I look at it from their perspective it does seem strange – a white, American woman who works on political issues mostly in the Middle East. I’m not exactly the normal profile for this kind of work, if there is one. But, most of the people you see on TV talking about these issues are older men, so I get it.

But the answer is also something I have struggled to find. It can’t really be boiled down to a single instant, it's more like a labyrinth (but without Bowie, RIP).

I have some answer for the timeline, at least: I point to the moment I stepped off a plane in Dammam, Saudi Arabia in February 1998 as my first step on this journey, venturing into the Middle East like a toddler trying to find their balance. Then on 9/11, I became, without my knowing, not a "real American", but also not one of "them"; I realized that my identity was tied to being torn in two between my nationality and where I called "home". In the early 2000’s I became more of an activist, trying to tap in to the American political structure to advocate for smarter, more aware policies toward the Middle East. And then, after moving to Washington, DC in 2007, finding my new path in non-governmental organizations, working to help bring us together, and heal the wounds that years of bad policies have inflicted on the world.

Since then, I have worked to help communities target and advocate for their needs to municipal funding sources in Lebanon; supported internally displaced persons in Iraq; trained and empowered women in Jordan, Tunisia, the UAE, Lebanon, Oman, and Kuwait to advocate for their rights; and helped build a debate organization from the ground up from an idea to an 11-country TV broadcast phenomenon in the Middle East, producing political debates in Morocco, Yemen, Tunisia, Turkey, Jordan, and the UAE. It’s been one hell of a ride.

But that doesn't answer the "why", just the "how". The timeline is pretty easy to follow, but what I think people really want to know is my motivation to do what I do. Why would I want to travel to a part of the world that is unstable, unfriendly, and unsafe (from their perspective)? Why would I dedicate my life to something that probably won't happen in my lifetime? Are you really in the CIA and this whole thing is just a ruse? (And yes, I really do get asked that on a fairly regular basis).

So, let me give the "why" my best shot. In a single sentence: I want to leave this world a better place than when I came into it. A lot of people may say that is naive or too pie-in-the-sky (who would complain about pie coming down from the sky??), but it's my honest truth. I was born into privilege. Not the 1% kind of privilege, but the simple luck of being born white and American to a family that loved me and had the means to support themselves and provide us the best upbringing they could. Globally speaking, that is an immense amount of privilege, and I am so lucky and grateful to have it. I also grew up seeing the other side: living in east LA and watching the race riots during the Rodney King era; living in Houston and seeing racism up close and personal; being a white woman in Saudi Arabia. All of my experiences both amplified the gratitude for being born with what I have, and instilled in me a sense that I could not sit back and let those who weren't born as lucky as I suffer, simply for that twist of fate.

I could have done that by having a family of my own, and raising them to be good people. I could have done that by building houses for Habitat for Humanity, or doing Teach for America. These are all important, meaningful, and wonderful things to do. But remember that flight in February 1998? That flight, I emerged from that plane into a different world, a new world that would become my home. Again, I feel privileged that I had the opportunity to live abroad and that I was able to become an honorary member of a society that is at once so warm and welcoming, and frustrating as all hell.

The duality of my identity, and the path my life has taken, is why I do this. I believe that the Middle East is not a place that Americans should be afraid of, but should extend a hand to. We are all in this together. No one - American, Arab, African, or Asian - wants to live in fear of what may come next. As an American, it is my responsibility to speak truth to my government, to advocate for the best solutions, and to promote understanding and compromise rather than violence and war.

Now I am starting a new chapter. Through this consulting firm, I hope to continue my work, and one step, one report, one contract at a time, keep making the world a little bit better.