The Good Thing About Not Belonging
Nadi Olson · Follow 4 min read · Jun 20, 2019
My parents met in a car accident in Atlanta in the 70’s. My father, a chocolate-skinned Arab, awaiting a green card at the time, had arrived to the U.S. via refugee camps in both Palestine and Jordan. Thankfully, this was before we made it next-to-impossible
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for a refugee named Ramadan Al-Nadi to seek asylum here. My mother, a blondehaired, blue-eyed granddaughter of German immigrants, had just left the farm in Nebraska where she was raised alongside her 12 siblings.
My parents had three children, and I am the youngest of them. We all turned out an ambiguous shade of white. My sister, much to her chagrin, turned out the most “ethnic” looking of the three of us. By the time I was born, she was old enough to tell my parents how challenging her life was because she had an Arabic name. They named me Stephanie to avoid the same for me.
Of the three of us, I have the only American name, which has given me the great privilege of being able to seamlessly blend in with white people. I realized recently that this fact has allowed me to navigate life in ways that have given me simultaneous experiences of “belonging” and “not belonging,” something that has greatly shaped my perception.
My mother is Christian and my father is Muslim. We were raised in neither religion, save for the time I joined the Baptist youth club so I could smoke cigarettes in the parking lot. We had parents who were white and brown, Christian and Muslim, and I was neither. Or both. Or I don’t know, really.
I grew up around wealthy, white families. We used my Uncle’s address to get me into the “good school.” I remember the ways some parents would encourage their kids not to hang out with me. The way they would look at me, especially when I had a black boyfriend in high school. The dads in this community were Doctors and Lawyers and CEO’s of f inancial institutions. My father was a tailor, working at Nordstrom, altering suits for these men. I remember wondering if I was being too sensitive or imagining the contempt for me and my family bubbling under the surface of some of my friend’s parents. When I see these same parents valiantly championing Trump’s racist policies some 20 years later, I know it was real.
I was always the slightly weird kid. My middle name was Ramadan, my dad had trouble speaking English, and I wasn’t allowed to spend the night out, or work on school projects with boys. But on the outside, I was just like everyone else. Brown hair and brown eyes, occasionally asked if I was Italian or Jewish, but nothing more probing than that. I have had the access of a white woman and the perspective of a minority.
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My ability to be a chameleon, to seamlessly exist in both spaces; “ white” and “other ” has given me opportunities and perspective that have made me incredibly successful in business.
I was in high school when 9/11 happened. I still remember my AP History teacher, walking down the hallway saying “ we’re under attack.” This event sparked a fear in me that included, but went beyond, the safety of our country. I was concerned about the safety of my family. I was thankful I had the luxury of disclosing my Arabic heritage to people at times when it suited me, but was acutely aware that my father and cousins did not. I remember asking my dad about it and him shrugging it off so that I wouldn’t get worried. But I also got to have the white experience of hearing the unadulterated chatter among my friends and their parents after the attacks. Being able to camouflage myself into the white experience, again as it suited me. I heard the racist comments. I knew how they felt about Muslims and Arabs. I knew how they talked about us when we weren’t around.
While white people welcomed me as long as I blended in with them, I have always been drawn to people of color. I’ve felt a level of comfort around people who look like and have had experiences similar to the Arabic side of my family. My background and upbringing has left me unafraid to talk about the challenges minorities face in society and business. My appreciation for diversity is rooted in the microcosm of diversity my parents became in that fateful car accident.
I’ve been able to see both sides of racial and religious intolerance. This has made me tirelessly devoted to supporting marginalized populations and being able to empathize with them in a way I might not otherwise have. I have been acutely aware of my privilege as an adult, an awareness that has greatly grown in recent years. I get to sign my emails “Stephanie Olson”; I get to walk around and experience life in the body of a white woman. I get to build this business as Stephanie, not Najwa (my sister) or Omar (my brother).
I consider it a great fortune to be raised by an immigrant of color, to have experiences and opportunity that he would never have, and the luck of being able to leapfrog what he was able to accomplish from a career standpoint. I appreciate what was possible, and impossible for him. It is from this vantage point that I am determined not to waste
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this opportunity I’ve been given to support and protect marginalized people in business and in society.
Race Minority Owned Businesses
Minorities
Female Founders
Entrepreneurship
This has led me to create a Business of Not Belonging. A home for all of those who are overlooked, under-appreciated, or otherwise marginalized, and for all the people longing for dignity, belonging and respect. We Are Rosie is focused on providing opportunity to these people, expecting incredible work from them, and giving our clients access to a new way of thinking about advertising. Everyone is welcome. Follow
Written by Stephanie Nadi Olson13 Followers
Founder of We Are Rosie. Access, inclusion, modern work. Daughter of a refugee, raising daughters of my own. Disgruntled southerner.
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