And for most of my life, those two things have felt like they don’t belong in the same sentence. “Where are you from?”
And I’m Kurdish. I come from a people without a state but with an unshakable soul. A people whose anthem is called “Ey Reqîb” — “O, Enemy” — because even our love songs have a little defiance in them.
“Oh, so you speak… Kurdish? Is that like Arabic?” i am sam kurdish
But I’m also Kurdish.
If I say “Kurdish,” I get the follow-ups: And for most of my life, those two
Let me start with something simple: my name is Sam. I drink coffee in the morning, scroll through my phone too much, and get annoyed when it rains on my commute. On paper, I’m just another guy trying to get through the week.
It means never quite fitting in. Not fully Western, not fully Middle Eastern. Always a little bit other — but proud of it. I won’t pretend it’s all poetry and good food. A people whose anthem is called “Ey Reqîb”
It’s such an innocent question. People ask it at parties, in waiting rooms, on first dates. And every time, my brain does a little gymnastics routine.