How does a Mudblood navigate a world of pure-bloods?
There are three things that have been a constant presence in my life. The first being my love for Harry Potter. The second being my hatred for pickles. And the third being my identity crisis. Not many people can say that at the mere age of ten, they pondered the idea of being “purebred,” but much to my dismay, I can.
My mother is American, and my father is Saudi. I am a “halfie,” or, as I like to say, a Mudblood. I went to school with many people who were fully Arab, but my friend group consisted of people of a similar ethnic makeup to me. These girls became my lifeline because we related to each other in a way nobody else in my class could understand.
While we celebrated Islamic holidays like Ramadan and Eid, we, too, observed Christmas and Easter. I vividly remember turning to one of my dearest friends and expressing that I was never sure about where I belonged — the Arab world or the Western world.
I found solace in her response when she let me know that she often pondered that same thought. We confided in one another and opened up about how difficult it was to find a balance between them. We felt like we had to choose one; it did not occur to us that both of our nationalities could coexist.
For my entire high school career, I remember doing anything and everything I could to fit into either community. It varied year by year which one I chose, and I ended up never really finding my place.
However, in a lame attempt to find myself once I went to university, I realized that I had wasted my youth thinking I was only allowed to be a part of one community. The beauty of being from two different nationalities should be recognized, not hidden.
Being a Mudblood introduces you to two cultures at such a young age, teaching us lessons that not many others learn until their twenties. To all my “halfies” out there, do not be afraid to explore both sides of you.
In the wise words of Hermoine Granger, we are Mudbloods and should be proud of it!