My name is Peyton Hijazi Greenberg. During my last job interview, the first thing my interviewer said, after taking note of my compelling name, was: “Hijazi Greenberg… now that could be a headliner!”
I am writing today to express my thoughts on my ethnicity — one that is, as demonstrated by my name, mixed and unique — and to share what distinctive situations I have endured and how they have shaped my life and my views today.
My mother’s family is Palestinian, and my father’s family is Jewish. What are the odds, right, of a marriage involving two people from contrasting ethnic backgrounds? Not only are these two ethnicities completely different; most Israelis and Palestinians, due to a long historical oppression, inherently dislike each other (not all of course, but many, especially as seen in the media) and have killed each other in the Middle Eastern region every day for many years. Palestinians and Israelis are involved in what is known as the longest and most violent bloodsheds in world history: the Palestine/Israel or Israel/Palestine conflict.
Hijazi is one of the most common Arab names and Greenberg is one of the most common Jewish names. These two names, in addition to being tied to ethnicity, are also heavily associated with religion. I am often asked, “So, are you Muslim or Jewish?” My answer is: I am not Muslim nor Jewish. My parents gave up their religions during their early adulthood. Because of their liberal and secular beliefs, my brothers and I had the freedom to choose how we wanted to view the world; we were able to decide if we wanted to be religious, spiritual, or atheist. I am incredibly fortunate to have had this freedom as a child and to know that whatever I choose, I will be accepted and loved.
As an International Relations major, my mixed heritage and ethnicity has been a significant battle for me. This topic — of how my mixed heritage shapes my views of the Palestine/Israel conflict — is discussed very frequently in almost all of my classes. When my peers and friends find out my heritage, the immediate follow-up question is “What side are you on?” This question is very heavy and challenging for me to answer, as it faces me with a strict test of loyalty: Questions like these imply that I have to choose to hate one side of myself and love the other. Instead of answering this question by aligning myself with a specific country or ethnicity, I simply say: “I am against injustice. Wherever there is injustice, I will not support it.”
My first memory about my identity struggle occurred when I was twelve years old. My grandmother sat me down after a graphic and heated family discussion about what Israeli Jewish people are doing to Palestinians and said: “you know we love you and your brothers no matter what, right?” This moment was so monumental for me. Why did my grandmother say this to only me, and not my cousins? What was so different about my brothers and me? Hijazi Greenberg? “It’s just a name…” I would say to myself. But it was so much more than that; my name is deeply connected to my identity, and it is symbolic of a conflict, a struggle, bigger than myself. It is connected to my goals, and how I believe I will play a part in resolving this horrifying war someday. This realization is what yielded my passion for international relations.
My entire life, especially during my studies as an International Relations major, I have often struggled with this mixed, seemingly-conflicting identity. When I am with a group of Palestinians, I do not feel as Arab as them. When I am with a group of Jewish people, I do not feel as Jewish as them. Last year, however, when I studied abroad in Jordan — a country that borders both Israel and Palestine — I realized that my identity need not be a source of internal conflict, which it had been since I first became cognizant of my unique heritage.
My host family was a Palestinian-Jordanian family, and they were ecstatic when they saw part of my name was Hijazi. To them, I was Peyton Hijazi. They never referenced Greenberg once. A few weeks into the semester, my host sister had some of her Jewish friends from Israel stay with us for a week. When they walked in, they looked at me and smiled. It was the kind of smile that was more of a smirk, referring to how similar I looked to them. All three girls had dark, thick and curly hair just like me, and we were all wearing the same type of glasses. My host mom even joked that we could be sisters. There I was at dinner, sitting in the middle of the table. To my left were Israelis and to my right was my Palestinian host family. This moment immensely impacted me, as I realized this setup was a metaphor for my ethnicity. I shared many attributes with the left side of the table, but I also shared attributes with the right side of the table. Who did I feel connected to? Both. It was at this moment that I realized I do not have to choose a side.
Just because I identify with both parts of my heritage does not mean that I am neutral. My opinions continuously sway as I become more informed and educated on this topic daily. My mixed identity does not dictate my political opinions, but it does influence the way I view the world and how I am able to clearly see two sides of a conflict. For this, I am beyond thankful to have such a compelling ethnicity.
If you have any questions about the Israel/Palestine or Palestine/Israel conflict, feel free to ask me or to check out this short video.
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Where It Begins 