Fourteen years ago, when I was two, my parents got a divorce. Within 2 weeks, my dad decided to leave for Syria (his home country). He was in the taxi about to leave for the airport. He was fully prepared to leave his four children, his house, his job, his wife; he was leaving his life behind. The taxi slowly started to go down the street and without a thought I began to chase it. I ran. I ran as fast as I could whilst I sobbed uncontrollably. Although I didn’t fully know what was happening, I knew it was bad. I knew in my stomach I would live the rest of my life without a father. The only thing I knew to do was run. Even though watching me chase after the car broke my dad’s heart, he left anyway. From then on, my dad visited every 2-3 years for about 2 weeks each time. Every time he left I chased the car. Every time he left I had some crazy idea that I would be able to catch that taxi and he’d stay. I never did catch the taxi.
When I did live with my dad I never noticed he was a different ethnicity than most people around us. I never saw race or color or religion, I saw people. I was an innocent 2 year old that was about to find out that the world is not at peace.
I remember getting up the morning of September 11th 2001. I went downstairs and my mom was watching the news in tears. The twin towers had been attacked. Arabs began to look more like monsters than humans. The commander and chief of the army, George Bush, decided to start the Iraq war. This war terrified me. My dad fell asleep every night listening to the bombs fall. He described the sound to be like fireworks. The war continued to grow. It moved closer to where my dad lived. In 2006, my dad’s apartment was bombed. This war was taking homes, stealing lives, and robbing people of hope. This war went on too long.
Why did this war begin? George Bush. George Bush was greedy for oil, was afraid of Arabs, and was mad with power. Bush should have never been in office. He made bad decisions and put lives at risk. Bush never understood Arabs, and never will. People similar to George Bush need to know that every culture has some people that are good and some people that are bad. We’re all human though. My wish is that someday, everybody can realize that.
I love my Dad. When he left, it hurt, but I still love him. He held me a minute after I was born, he told me stories, and he taught me how to ride a bike. No matter what he does or what his beliefs are, he’s my dad whom I love. Even though he may look different to others, I know deep in my heart, I will always chase the car.