Growing up a white, middle-class female has shielded me from the true ugliness of racism. I had not seen my own white privilege and often shrugged off racist remarks as people often do when they have never been victims of racism. Meeting my husband has made me a better person. My eyes have been opened to the ugliness and the truth that we shrug off everyday: racism is alive and it’s an everyday reality for people of color.

This is the love of my life: my husband, Shady. Shady is originally from Tunisia which is located in North Africa. You may have not heard of it, but neither had I until I met him. It’s neighboring countries include Morocco, Egypt and Libya. Tunisia is largely populated by those who identify themselves as Muslim. Although my husband does not identify as Muslim or any other religion, we have found that because he comes from a Muslim populated country, we would experience some of biggest problem we never thought we would. I certainly did not.

Within our first few weeks of being together we moved into an apartment complex in my hometown of Bristol, Connecticut. A week into living there, we had cops at our door. One of our neighbors (we hadn't met any neighbors at this point and still haven't) called the police on my husband telling our local PD that he was a terrorist. I was completely taken aback. How could someone say this? All he ever did was bring groceries inside and occasionally walk next door to Max’s Pizza for a delicious pie. Why would someone say this about him? Reality sunk in, and I knew it was because of how he looked. Shady’s hair flowed past his shoulders and he had a full, dark beard. This neighbor just looked at him, thought he was Muslim, jumped to the most illogical conclusion that Muslim and terrorists are synonymous, and called the police on us claiming terrorism. I was mortified. The police laughed it off, and I chuckled too only to not add tension to the situation. I closed the door and cried. I can remember Shady looking at me and telling me, “Samantha, it’s okay. We joke about this back in my country. I knew this would happen.” Those words will always resonate me. I knew this would happen.

Recently, Shady walked alone to a liquor store to purchase a bottle of wine for us. Not only did they watch him as he browsed but when he showed the cashier his passport for identification, she began to get uneasy. The cashier proceeded to tell my husband she could not accept a passport for identification because they write their birthdates differently and it confuses them. I was appalled. Did this company expect families traveling here from other countries to get United States ID cards to purchase alcohol? When he told me this, I was again disheartened. I had always denied the notion that racism was alive and well, but I had a rude awakening. I began to see my white privilege more than ever.

White privilege is being able to have long hair and a beard and not have the police called on you.

White privilege is being able to walk into a liquor store and the owner not watching you from the moment you walk in the entrance until you’ve walked out the exit.

Hell, my white privilege allows me to get “flesh” colored band aids that are actually my flesh color.

I could go on for days about how unjustly my husband has been treated based solely on how he looks, that he speaks Arabic, or simply that his ID is a foreign passport. While I haven't been a personal victim of racism in my lifetime, now that I am viewing it daily toward my husband, I know I can use my power and my white privilege to call out this injustice. Although only on a small scale, every great fight begins with a few punches. I'm hoping that now that my eyes have been opened, I can help inspire others to stand up to this horrific injustice we all too easily push aside and discredit. I learned that the best way to determine this type of injustice is to ask yourself, “If that were me, would this situation be playing out differently?” If the answer to that question is ever yes, we have a social responsibility to stand up, and to speak out. Everyone deserves respect and love.

Remember, love is the answer.

الحب هو الجواب