Ahlan wa sahlan! Hello and welcome! My name is Abiel Locke (they/she), but I usually introduce myself as Avi. I’m a rising third-year at the U of O and I am studying Arabic in Amman, Jordan for two months. I am a queer and gender nonconforming student who happens to “look the part” by virtue of shaving my head over last winter break. As someone who openly carries those identities, I received a lot of “advice” from people as I prepared to come to the Middle East, usually well meaning, only occasionally helpful, and most often annoying. It ranged from comments on my American clothing to vaguely Islamophobic notions of safety to straight folks stumbling over their words as they assumed my queerness and tried to tell me that the Middle East would be dangerous for me.
Image The most helpful information I received in advance of my trip to the Middle East was an article written by Aya Labanieh, one of the assistant editors of the Journal of Arabic Literature on the history of queerness in the Middle East. It was a thoughtful, yet relatively short, piece that offered criticism of white queerness and wished to simultaneously hold her own culture accountable. It provided me with the context of history and challenged the dominant narrative that queerness is a foreign concept in non-Western nations. In retrospect, I ought to have taken the time to read more from queer folks who are Arab before arriving. In a more conservative place than the UO campus, there are boundaries to respect and spaces where those boundaries have been pushed by those who live within the culture. However, it is helpful to be reminded of all the ways in which resistance exists within every community.
When I first arrived in Amman, I was utterly exhausted and unable to properly adjust before our five hours of classes and four hours of homework per day. I have begun every day at 6:30 a.m. or earlier, sleepy and in need of the bitter, black Turkish coffee whose grounds lay like silt at the bottom of your cup. In only a week and a half, my language skills have progressed tremendously. Amman has absorbed its new students, perhaps not like an embrace, but in the same way a hot wind surrounds you. We are simply within it. We take the time to be thoughtful and respectful, but at the end of the day, we are a drop in the 4 million strong population of Jordan’s capital. It ultimately does not care that I am queer, so long as I live within the unspoken rules a guest should live by regardless of their location.
My greatest joy and happiest surprise has been from the small group of humans who I have found myself friends with. We have watched the parallels between America and Jordan, discussed the differences, and provided safe places for each other to be ourselves as we adjust to our new setting. If I were to offer a small hug to each and every queer person going somewhere far from home, I would pair it with this bit of advice: your people exist everywhere. We only need to find them as we navigate our own safety and wellbeing in America, the Middle East, and all places where queerness is a beautiful and occasionally scary thing to embody.
By Abiel "Avi" Locke, Diverse Ducks Ambassador
Intensive Arabic in Amman, Summer 2023