“Do you know what it means to be hungry?” Zamir Hasan asked the crowd gathered at the Brotherhood Synagogue in New York City.
A few hands went up.
“Hunger means that you don’t know where your next meal is coming from.” A young boy answered.
“Right. And do you know how many people in the U.S. don’t know where their next meal is coming from?” Zamir asked.
Where Are You From?
"Where are you from?" Forty-five years later—well almost—I am still asked this question. At first—and I am talking 1971—I would proudly proclaim: “Pakistan”.
“Where is that?”
I am insulted and appalled at her ignorance?
Now of course, even the most least-informed, under-informed and misinformed has heard of Pakistan. Except that the look I get is one of sympathetic concern, as in ‘do you have family in that unsafe region?’ Except that when asked this question, I am offended. Why? Because I feel that my American-ism is being questioned. So I tease.