The Coin

by Yasmin Zaher

To be honest with you, in New York I saw the dirtiest people I had ever seen, although I’d never been to a third-world country. I came from Palestine, which was neither a country nor the third world, it was its own thing, and the women in my family placed a lot of importance on being clean, perhaps because there was little else they could control in their lives.

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America looked gloomier to me than in the pictures. There were crackheads in the streets and cokeheads in the high-rises. And there was what America had done abroad, in Vietnam, in Guatemala, and especially to my people. That makes sense, doesn’t it? I mean, how could the devil be the dream?

On immigrating to America

Sometimes we have to become independent of our families, not because we don’t love them but because they weigh us down.

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No, I couldn’t buy a TV, I was scared of American culture. When I say that, I don’t mean the right to bear arms, I mean wedding dresses and obesity.

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It’s a terrible thing, habit. That’s another reason I always have to leave. I don’t want to be complacent.

On staying in NY

When Netanyahu and Trump were elected I thought those were good days, because the truth had come to light. But it seemed not only that the truth was ugly, but also that ugly was beautiful. The people adore the monster, the rich want to look poor.

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While he showered, I looked in his pockets, it’s what women do.

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He asked if he was the 9/11 denier. No, definitely not a denier, but very vocal when Bush invaded Iraq. That was all I needed to say for the conversation to end. Nobody wanted to talk about anything that happened outside America, they only wanted to talk about food and television and the mold on the third floor at Franklin, which was giving everyone allergies.

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My uncle was trying to take control of my father’s inheritance, but it was impossible, my father was a scientist, he had thought of everything. My uncle showed me the safe and told me the password, which was America. I told you already, in my family, America was both the key and the curse.

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By the time we know ourselves, we are already. That is the problem of childhood. It takes you a couple of years to grow up, to be conscious, to make decisions, and by then it’s already too late, it’s just a race against those fateful years.

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I was worried for Jay. He was too sensitive, he had no shield. He was growing up in a culture that was over-legitimizing certain emotions, especially hurt, and encouraging vulnerability without discernment.

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The value of money was not fixed, it fluctuated with my mood, with the weather, with the location.

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