I belong to that classification of people known as daughters. I am A Daughter. And, not just any daughter, I am an Arab-American daughter.
One day as a group of friends and I sat together and drank some tea, gossip filled the air about the many shattered reputations of these Arab girls in our community. As I finished up my fourth cup of tea, it hit me that I, too, would like to have a daughter. Why do I want a daughter?
I want a daughter who will take on all the responsibilities of the household. From washing the dishes to emptying the dishwasher, from setting the dinner table to cleaning it afterwards, from mopping the floors only to have her brothers run in from soccer practice with their muddy shoes on right after. I want a daughter who will do all this without a single sweat running down her face. I want a daughter whose reputation is as fragile as a butterfly wing, where one can barely tap it without it completely breaking. I want a daughter who must look after her siblings, be able to financially support herself, have a social life, and on top of all that maintain a 4.0. My daughter must not make a mistake because the slightest slip-up will have everyone forget all the good things she has done. My daughter will be expected to dress modestly, because she shouldn’t be too confident in her body when there are people called “men” in this world. My daughter must not compare herself to her brothers because that would be unusual in an Arab household. If her brothers get to go out and have fun every other night, she must stay at home because she is a girl. Call it traditional. Call it old-fashioned. Hey, even call it extremely overboard. My daughter will not mind any of this. I want a daughter who is does not only hold the role of a daughter.
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I want a daughter who is a mother to her siblings, an angel to her parents, and an epitome of perfection to her friends. I want a daughter who will not hide anything from me, but God forbid she tells me what’s on her mind because she’ll receive a two hour lecture from me on why she is wrong. I want a daughter who has a pure heart. A daughter who does not break down when the boy she loves mistreats her. A daughter who endures the judgmental people around her with her head held high. A daughter who smiles at sadness and laughs at pain. A daughter who will give her loved ones her all, without expecting anything in return. Most importantly, I want a daughter who is always being watched by society, but cannot watch back.
If, by any chance, I give birth to a girl who is not the perfect daughter I imagined her to be like in my head, I want the option to replace that daughter with a daughter of my choice. I may not be able to find that perfect daughter anywhere on this planet, but hey, it’s worth a shot.
When I grow older and want to live the life I was never able to live because I was once a daughter myself, I want a daughter to forget about her dreams in life and become my right hand. She will walk in the same footsteps I once walked, and will grow up wanting what I once wanted.
My God, who wouldn t want a daughter?
