Southwest Asian and North African (SWANA) students, often misrepresented and misunderstood, face highly politicized identities that are often weaponized against them. This weaponization forces students from SWANA communities to grow cautious and calculated in the ways they express their traditions, cultures, and ideas, in an environment that is often hostile to them. "Weaponized Stories" is an exhibition that highlights SWANA students as unapologetically themselves, in environments where they are forced to shrink themselves, showcasing the strong traditions and cultures that are present on campus, shining through the barriers.
Weaponized Stories is a project of the Office of Multicultural Involvement and Community Advocacy (MICA) sponsored by The Clarice Smith Performing Arts Center. Learn more about SWANA Student Involvement & Advocacy at stamp.umd.edu/SWANA
“My cultural identity as an Amazigh Moroccan holds a profound significance for me. As a member of the indigenous people of the Maghreb, I feel a strong connection to our history, language, and traditions that stretch back thousands of years. Yet, being Amazigh often places me in a politicized existence, especially on campus, where I rarely see our culture represented or acknowledged. I find myself constantly navigating spaces that don’t recognize the diversity within North African identity. Many often group us with Arab culture, though historically and culturally we have distinct identities. I often feel caught between two worlds—our Amazigh identity frequently marginalized or misunderstood by both Arab and African communities. I hope to see more spaces on campus that amplify our voices and celebrate our unique heritage."
“I am a multiethnic Southwest Asian and North African. I am Egyptian and Syrian with Turkish and Moroccan heritage as well. Being multiethnic in the SWANA community, I have always felt alone in my experiences. Often, I have felt insufficient because I do not belong to any one community or ethnic group. I have never felt "Syrian enough" or "Egyptian enough" or even "Arab enough." Despite feelings of inadequacy, I view being a member of the community as an honor and a privilege that I do not take lightly. As members of the SWANA community, we are often made to feel that we shouldn't be proud of our heritage, and I wholeheartedly reject that belief. Even though there is a lack of support on campus, my cultural identity manifests because I insist on representing my culture despite all the challenges I face. My identity is the lens through which I see life. Honoring those who came before me like my grandfather, the pillar of my family and my greatest inspiration, is deeply important to me. There is so much that I have learned from him. Among the many lessons my grandfather taught me are the importance of striving for success, persevering against all odds, and embodying respect, kindness, and humility. His life story has always been a source of guidance for me. I strive to support and honor my community every day in his memory.”
“As a Sudanese American, my cultural identity fills me with pride. Watching my country struggle makes me want to make others aware of what's happening so Sudan’s pain can be seen, heard, and supported. But on campus, I often feel like I have to dim my light. My emotions run deep, and I sometimes hold back because I worry my passion might make people uncomfortable or that I’ll come across as “too political.” Being both Sudanese and American is part of who I am, but I sometimes feel pressured to soften it. Still, I want to express my pride openly and fully, without feeling like I need to hide any part of myself.”
“I am Levantine. My maternal grandmother is a Nakba survivor from Haifa, Palestine. And my paternal grandmother is from Beirut, Lebanon. My childhood was in Damascus, Syria. My family survived and thrived in spite of perpetual and targeted injustice. I carry our collective intergenerational trauma in my body. Depression is my best friend. I can't visit any of these places, yet they visit me in my dreams. I always try to hide. I think this says it all.”
“As a North African from southern Egypt, my cultural identity is deeply rooted in traditions and regional heritage that often differ from mainstream portrayals of Arab or African identities. On campus, while diversity is celebrated, I sometimes feel pressured to conform to broader narratives that don't fully capture the unique aspects of southern Egyptian culture. In politicized spaces, particularly when discussing Middle Eastern or African issues, I often find myself modifying how I express my identity to avoid stereotyping or being misunderstood, which can prevent me from fully embracing and sharing my cultural background.”
“As a fifth-generation Yemeni, I've always felt a strong desire to reconnect with my cultural roots, even though I’ve faced a lack of support and encouragement along the way. Growing up in a world where being so far removed from my origins often meant that my identity was overlooked, I’ve felt constrained in expressing the richness of Yemeni culture. Yet, being a politicized body means that expressing these aspects of my identity in public or on campus feels fraught—like I need to hide parts of myself to avoid judgment or misunderstanding. There have been moments where I’ve toned down my cultural expression, fearing that the way I present myself might be too "other" in the eyes of others, at times even Arabs”
Yazan Aboushi is a Palestinian-American photographer and storyteller currently residing in Washington DC. A passionate environmentalist and educator, Aboushi thrives at the intersection of conservation and storytelling, specializing in environmental justice and education. From the rolling hills of Palestine to the golden shores of the Chesapeake Bay, Aboushi uses storytelling to foster genuine relationships between people and their environments.
yazanaboushi.com @yazanphoto