An Unprecedented Interview

On January 27th 2017, in what now feels like a lifetime ago, former President Donald Trump signed Executive Order 13769.

With the stroke of a pen, a law effectively restricted travel to the United States for citizens of Iran, Iraq, Libya, Somalia, Sudan, Syria, and Yemen.

All seven being majority Muslim countries, Executive Order 13769 took on a new name; 'The Muslim Ban'.

Dominating headlines and disrupting travel, the ban, and news of it were unavoidable. Images of protesters in airports, travelers sleeping in terminals, and family members pleading for help streamed across news outlets.

A national television network, which airs a nightly news segment, decided to cover this story from the American Muslim perspective. What was this marginalized minority thinking? How did we feel about Trump in general, and “The Muslim Ban” specifically?

Seeking answers, they decided to visit my hometown of Dearborn Michigan. Home to thriving Muslim communities, as well as the largest mosque in North America; Dearborn seemed like an ideal place to find someone impacted by the travel ban.

A network news producer quickly went to work.

The producer reached out to a well known community organization, asking for individuals interested in being interviewed. A community organizer in turn reached out to me. Would I be willing to go on camera, share my thoughts on 'The Muslim Ban' and other developments since Donald Trump assumed office? The community organizer explicitly told me, "we need people on air who can articulate how devastating this travel ban has been for people from these countries."

The organizer felt I could counter growing xenophobia within the Trump administration. This same organizer was familiar with a children’s book I had written on tolerance, acceptance, and how to break stereotypes in unconventional ways. "I think you'd be a great for this interview," she insisted.

I’m Lebanese by birth, born in Beirut. While Lebanon wasn't listed on the travel ban, I was willing to offer my opinion, provided the network interview someone from a country that was on the list. I was told, "That's the plan, we're reaching out to others."

I decided to participate.

"Great, I'll give the producer your cell phone number, she'll call you with all the details," the organizer advised, "prepare for the interview. Think about what they'll ask and how you're going to answer."

The anticipation

About an hour later, my phone rang displaying an unknown number. I figured it must be someone from the television network. Indeed it was. After a brief introduction, she asked, "can you meet us at The Arab American Museum by 3 p.m?"

I felt an odd mix of excitement and anxiety, "Sure, see you then."

Upon arriving and speaking to crew members coordinating the interviews, I asked if they planned on interviewing any members of the community from the list of banned countries.

"We have other interviews planned, yes." I was told. Perfect; I didn't want those impacted most to simply be ignored. He continued, "We're preparing a set upstairs for the interviews."

It was both reassuring and reflective to film at The Arab American Museum. This place championed the stories of the immigrant experience; specifically Arab Americans. These distinctions can confuse people; Islam is a religion, Arabic is a language. Five of the seven countries on 'The Muslim Ban' speak Arabic, making them Arab countries. The rich history and vibrant culture of these places were housed right here.

Finally, our voices would come from a source and place loved and revered.

America would understand us. Who we are. Where we came from. How much we love and respect a country that, once upon a time, welcomed us. And in return, we gave it everything. We built businesses, institutions, and legacies our new home would be proud of.

My comfort and excitement were quickly interrupted by the producer who called me earlier. She greeted and guided me towards set, asking questions.

“Hi Bashar, thanks for doing this, ever been on camera, or interviewed for a news segment before?” she inquired.

“I did a local spot for my book, it's similar, right?” I wondered.

She confirmed, “Yes, you’ll sit right here (pointing to a stool), our reporter will be across from you, just pretend the camera isn’t even here and have a conversation. He’ll ask you questions, we’re looking for about five minutes or so, just have a conversation, cool?”

“Yes, sure, where is he?” I asked.

“He’ll be here in a minute. We had some field interviews.” she concluded.

Field interviews? I wondered; what for? Isn't that why I’m here? Others are scheduled to come in, right? What the heck are these 'field interviews'?

My thoughts were quickly interrupted by the commotion of someone new entering set. The reporter, who would be conducting the interviews, had arrived. As soon as he shook my hand and introduced himself I recognized him from a couple stories he had previously covered. This correspondent always seemed to be reporting from war or conflict zones.

Why was he here? We’re not at war, are we?

The interview

Seated across from each other, camera rolling, he begins; “What’s your experience been like since Donald Trump took office?”

I reply, “Well, in this community, there’s a friendliness and familiarity with our neighbors, Arabs and Muslims have been here for well over a century...”

He quickly interjects, “How do you feel about The Muslim Ban?”

“I don’t understand how it makes us safer as opposed to dealing with hate groups we have right here at home. Does a 'ban' make us safer...” As I was about to continue with this line of thought, he asked; “Are you scared?”

He caught me off-guard with that question, but I managed a reply; “Me, personally, no. But I can’t imagine what it would be like for someone who wears a headscarf (hijab) for example. They're walking embodiments of the religion, I can blend in most places I go."

The reporter concludes, “Thank you for your time." He stands up, the producer approaches, and they complement each other on a job well done.

I stand, slightly confused, and ask them, “That’s it? We’re done? I thought you wanted to address how this law and the person who signed it affect those traveling from the banned countries? People are sleeping in airports. Isn’t that why I was contacted to speak in the first place?”

The producer and reporter look to each other, then back to me. They ask a few of off-camera questions and reassure me; between myself and the others, they'll have what they need.

I felt optimistic. “When will it air?”, I ask.

“Tonight, between 7 and 8”, the producer replied.

Leaving the museum, I began contacting family and friends; excitedly notifying them of the segment, station, and showtime. It should be good, I thought. The few questions I did answer were not the standard angry minority trope we’re used to seeing on major television networks.

I would be proven wrong on all accounts.

Showtime

Seated with my family, watching intently, I wait for this segment to air.

Finally, a lead anchor introduces the story. Images of Dearborn, The Arab American Museum, people shopping. Cut to the correspondent (from my interview) standing outside a grocery store as pedestrians move about behind him. He begins, “We’re here in Dearborn Michigan, home of the largest Muslim community in America, for their reaction on The Muslim Ban…”

Cut to a microphone in the face of an older man standing outside. He says something to the effect of, 'Trump hates Arabs'. A few more images from our city cross the screen, voiced over by the reporter.

Cut back to him, with the following take, “there you have it, people are angry..”, back to the studio anchor, and on to the next topic.

That’s it? Seriously!?!

No other interviews were aired. Not mine or the other community members supposedly contacted for their insight or experience.

From everything this network set out to do, their effort, good or bad, America got three words from a random person outside a grocery store. No discussion of how many American residents were away from family and friends, stuck or in limbo, sleeping in an airport, unsure of their future, scared, helpless. No nuanced dialogue of whether this Executive Order makes anyone more, or less, safe.

Nothing.

Reconciliation

After reflecting on that day, what aired as opposed to what could have aired, I realize this very thing has been happening to minorities for decades now. We're painted with a broad brush, typecast into something familiar to the population at large, and no one bothers to fully understand our lived experience.

Well, for those still reading, not all Arabs are Muslims and not all Muslims are Arabs. Michigan has a large and thriving Christian Arab community, as well as congregations of Black Muslims.

Islam isn't foreign, it's as American as apple pie or slavery for that matter. Many enslaved Africans were in fact Muslim. Banning Muslims in 2017 seems hypocritical. It does nothing to keep Americans safe. The largest terror threat since Donald Trump was sworn into office is domestic terrorism, not someone with the freedom to travel from a certain country.

By now, I’ve had ample time to reconsider the reporter’s last question: “Are you scared?”

After four years, I can unequivocally say, the longer the outgoing administration was in power, the less safe I, and to this point, a majority of Americans felt. Had I answered that question differently then, or simply said something derogatory, perhaps my segment would have aired.

Sadly, it did not. Nor did those of the others called on to present what would have been more thought provoking than, 'Trump hates Arabs' or 'people are angry.'

I doubt our segment would have changed public opinion much; nothing seems to nowadays. At minimum, I have an outlet to air my version of the story now. It may not have the same reach as a national television program, but... It was written.

That's certainly something.