When the planes hit the twin towers of the World Trade Center on Sept. 11, 2001, I was a young boy in Beirut, watching the tragedy unfold with a mix of fear and compassion for the victims. 

At that point in time, I did not have a full comprehension of international politics. I did not consider the motives or affects of the terrorist attacks. My focus was solely on the suffering of my fellow humans. The footage of people jumping out of windows from high floors to avoid the suffocating smoke and flames haunted my consciousness with sorrow.

Four years later, I immigrated to the United States. During that time, the country was in the midst of two wars. The economy was not in the best of shape, and the people were scared for their future and security. Not much has changed over the past seven years.

The United States has suffered and continues to suffer today from the residual affects of 9/11. 

The loss of lives remains a great source of pain. 

President George W. Bush used 9/11 to promote his wars abroad and his policies at home. This was a major setback for our great nation.

Bush’s wars in the Middle East, along with the civil rights violations that he unleashed at home targeted mostly Arabs in both regions. President Obama promised change, but unfortunately followed Bush’s agenda; albeit through different means. 

I was naturalized on Sept. 12, 2011, a day after the 10th anniversary of the tragic attacks. The victims of terrorism in 2001 are now my compatriots, but the American citizenship that I earned has not changed my views on terrorism. Sympathy for the suffering of others ought to transcend nationalities and arbitrary lines of power that are drawn on maps. 

Abdulrahman al-Awlaki.

The identity of all victims of terror is universal; they share the same pain.

Sadly, the U.S. government’s sympathy does not extend to the Arabs and Muslims, who are trapped in its war zones. U.S drone strikes in Yemen and Pakistan have killed hundreds of civilians. The targets are “suspected militants.” And the civilians killed by our flying robots are dubbed “collateral damage.” 

A few weeks after I became an American, an Arab American boy from Denver was murdered by a CIA drone strike in Yemen for no apparent reason.  Abdulrahman al-Awlaki, 16, was killed, because his father, Anwar al-Awlaki, was a suspected terrorist. The father had been executed without due process by a drone strike two weeks earlier.

The only comment from the Obama Administration came through Obama’s then senior campaign adviser and former White House Press Secretary Robert Gibbs, who said: Abdulrahman “should have [had] a far more responsible father.”

The media had no interest in covering the reasons behind why a young American boy was killed by his own government; as if Arab Americans are not protected by the law.

Post 9/11, Arabs have also fallen out of the parameters of protection by the U.S.’s tolerant social and media norms.

In 2010, Bill Maher, a liberal comedian and commentator, said on his HBO show that he is worried about the future of “western civilization” because the most popular name for newborn babies in England is Mohammed.

If Maher had suggested the same concern over the popularity of a name from any other ethnicity or religion, he would have been expelled from television and the public sphere all together.

The Maher remark is only one of numerous examples where mainstream politicians and media personalities have shown a total disregard for the feelings and worth of Arab and Muslim Americans over the past 12 years.

I am not talking here about marginalized anti-Muslim bloggers in Dearborn and New York. Insults have come from presidents, congressmen and popular commentators.

It seems that all groups in the United States are protected by a thick shield of political correctness, except Arabs and Muslims; they are still perceived as a legitimate target for racist commentary.

The average American is not racist though. In Europe, some athletes get racially abused in soccer stadiums. This doesn’t happen in the United States.

I have been to almost every major U.S. city, and I cannot recall any particular incident where I was a victim of racism. Even in small towns in Texas and Nebraska, I have been treated with respect by my fellow Americans. 

Bigotry against Arabs has a loud voice in the media.  This voice echoes throughout society, like that of a small frog that can disturb an entire neighborhood with its obnoxious sound.

This loud, racist noise has implanted guilt in us without reason. After the Boston bombing, my first feeling was sadness for the victims, but my first thought was: “I hope that it’s not an Arab;” as if having that thought changes the fact that I am a normal American, who condemns and refuses terrorism.

While 9/11 was committed by a few Arabs and Muslims, not all Arabs and Muslims carried out the attacks. This was not a collective crime. The guilt should only belong to the perpetrators.

The bottom line is that the 12 years since 9/11 have proven that Arabs and Arab Americans are the unintended long-term victims of terrorism against the United States. They continue to pay the price for a crime that they did not commit.