For the past few weeks, I’ve noticed that I’ve been dealing with a level of anxiety that I’ve worked so hard to eradicate since I left America. The constant images of unarmed black men and women being murdered by police, white militias (domestic terrorists) getting a pass, voter suppression, the increasing number of deaths due to COVID-19, and the upcoming presidential election has caused me to question whether I truly deserve to live this “American Dream” in another country.
It may sound strange to the average American to believe that you can actually find “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” outside of our borders. As Americans we are taught, socialized, and even indoctrinated to the point where our pride in our country often time leads to viewing other countries as inferior or uncivilized. We brag about our education system, but the truth is, although we were ranked #1 in education this year, most Americans don’t know much about the rest of the world.
James Baldwin said that, “The making of an American begins at the point where he himself rejects all other ties, any other history, and himself adopts the vesture of his adopted land.” As an descendant of enslaved Africans, the extraction of my culture, language, religion, etc happened before I was born, so I can understand the frustration and stress some immigrants may experience when they hear Americans shouting to the top of their lungs to fully assimilate to our ways.
While I currently live in one of the safest nations in the world, I am still taking steps to heal from the psychological pains of being a black man in America. My body still gets tense when I see blue lights from a police car from my rear view mirror. Yet, the police here are pretty friendly and are usually curious and want to know more about me, because I’m a black man from America. It’s strange experiencing the privileges of feeling like a true American. I’m still adjusting to the fact that I’m able to go for a run at night and not go through the process of asking myself is my health and willingness to stay in shape worth losing my life to a cop, because I somehow look suspicious.
It’s shocking to know that I can leave my front door unlocked and no one will attempt to rob me. I can leave my car on and the door open at the gas station and it’s still there when I return. No one follows me around the stores or ask that I pay for my food before I eat at restaurants. Naturally, many Emiratis and foreigners are usually curious about me, because I come with a different perspective as it relates to the American experience. I came to this country seeking refuge and to heal. So far this has been one of the most amazing decisions I have made in my life.
Sometimes people are shocked when they find out that I am a mental health professional and an educator. They are so use to seeing black people in the lower socio-economic ranks. They initially assume that I am African, but then I have to explain to the complex history of my ancestry and history. Being a black professional in the UAE also comes with a sense of responsibility. Often times, when I travel to certain resorts or exclusive events, I am the only black person that’s not an employee. The African workers usually make their way to me and we start to have conversations about where we’re from, among other things. Although, sometimes they may feel a bit disappointed that I’m not a continental African, they enjoy the fact that they can see other black people that are well educated, working in well respected fields, friendly, and a supportive of all people in the Afro-Diaspora.
Just last week, one of the African janitors at my job pulled me to the side to say, “Mr. Joshua, you know what? I just wanted to say to you that it’s good to see a nice black man here to represent us. You always dress so nice and show us the same respect as everyone else.” Being an African American male in the mental health and education field has afforded me a privilege that others may not have. Because black American culture is so popular here, young arabs and other foreign students feel more comfortable coming to me to express their deepest and darkest issues. Because of the culture and religion here, young people don’t usually have the space or opportunity to talk about their issues as it relates to mental health. I’m so grateful that I get to assist in helping young people heal from depression, anxiety, suicide attempts, abuse, cutting, identity and sexuality issues, etc. By helping them take the steps towards healing, I’m also healing myself.
Another great aspect of living in this country is that the Black American expat community is very close knit. We often have meet ups, cultural events, professional events, business expos, etc. I can’t speak for others, but the black community here has been so supportive. Since I have been here I have connected with so many creative minds, entrepreneurs, developers, etc. Yet, sometimes we get anxiety, because we know that our people back in America are dealing with so many issues that we don’t have to deal with in this country, because of the nature of how the government seeks to promote happiness, wellbeing, and tolerance. There is literally a Ministry of Happiness here!
Every black American male that I have connected with since being here has stated that they have no interest in moving back to America, because the life, opportunities, and safety that we are afforded here, we will never get back home. Karen can’t Karen in the UAE and there is no one here trying to put their foot on our necks. Yet, we all wish that our home country would live up to its promises that are written in its constitution.
James Baldwin said, “I love America more than any other country in this world, and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually.” Deciding to seek refuge in the UAE in order to heal from my toxic relationship with America was something that my soul needed. Yet, I love my country so much that I’m willing to work to make sure that it does right by its citizens. It is my duty to make sure that I live my life as an example of what an American should be.
