I am Mariam Ibrahim El Baytam, an American citizen of Palestinian Lebanese descent. At the age of four, I left Palestine during the 1948 exodus with my family. I grew up in a camp for Palestinian refugees in Beirut, the capital city of Lebanon. My father worked in “Gandour” Factory to raise me and my two siblings and provide for his parents and in-laws as well. Growing up as Palestinian refugees in a war-torn zone amid poverty and without access to basic rights, my two siblings and I miraculously made it to college. In 1970, I finished my BA degree in Psychology from Beirut Arab University.
As I was earning my education with Riad, my fiancé at the time, I worked as a middle school teacher for the United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA). I taught mathematics and science, while Riad taught history. We got married after we graduated and bought an apartment outside the camp. I continued teaching to help support my husband, my parents, my in-laws, and my four kids. Down the road, I became a school principal and continued to serve the schools of UNRWA and the Palestinian refugee communities in Lebanon. I retired in 2004 after working for 41 years. My husband, Riad, died from a heart attack on March 21st, 2003. He only visited the United States but never had the chance to live here.
My middle son Nael, one of my twins, was adamant to pursue his education in the United States. He left Lebanon in December 1995 and joined the University of Minnesota in the twin cities. During his undergraduate studies, he met his wife Andrea, a third generation American of Italian descent. In September of 2000, Nael and Andrea got married and had three beautiful kids (Sami, Pia, and Yasmina). I immigrated to the United States in 2007 through family chain immigration and directly filed for immigration visa applications for my four children (Dima, Bassel, Wael, and Hadi). When I immigrated to the United States, I left behind my own community, extended family, former colleagues, neighbors, and friends. I left behind my whole being and entire life! Moving to the United States after retirement was not easy; however, it was worth every bit of my sacrifice. Growing up and living all my life without a passport, I was persistent to offer my children a better existential experience. I wanted them to belong, to have basic human rights, to be protected, to be represented, to have a voice, and to live in peace. At the age of 75, I practiced my citizenship right of voting for the very first time together with my grandson, Sami, who turned 18. Being able to participate in shaping the next era of the United States gives me utmost pride and joy.
Despite the better living conditions we have now as a family, I feel sorry for my country of birth, a lost land with generations and generations of Palestinian refugees in the diaspora. I remember so little from my Palestine or nothing at all. I never visited Palestine because I was never allowed to. Even with my American citizenship and passport, the idea is still intimidating for me, even now. My path of life is not entirely unique because many fellow Palestinians have experienced the same exigency of living dual realities and made heartbreaking choices in the process. And yet, many more never had the opportunity to do so. In my prayers, I always ask God to offer chances for the ones who do not have enough and bless them with the means to try.
Thank you for allowing me to express myself …
Mariam El Baytam
