An American Story:
The Arab American National Museum

by Anan Ameri

This article was published in Museum News
November/December 2006.

In the spring of 2000 it seemed an idea whose time had come at last. There was not a single Arab-American museum anywhere in the United States . The founders saw the need for educating the American public and countering a growing misconception about Arab culture. There were serious obstacles, though: no funding yet in place, no collection, no building, no consensus on programming. It looked to everyone involved like a daunting task. Then Sept. 11 happened, and suddenly an Arab-American museum looked almost impossible. Anan Ameri, founding director of the Arab-American National Museum in Dearborn, Mich., recounts the long journey and the lessons she learned along the way.

There are an estimated 17,000 museums in the United States . They include institutions devoted to almost very conceivable historic period, artistic style and world culture. Some feature famous women and men, others famous objects, from airplanes to dinosaur bones. Still others collect flora and fauna from the rainforest to the Arctic tundra. But in this vast galaxy, there was not a single museum that documented the history, the contributions and the experience of Arab Americans. Not until May 5, 2005, that is, when the Arab-American community celebrated the inauguration of the Arab American National Museum (AANM) in Dearborn, Mich.

The museum took five years to bring to completion. To some, that is a very rapid pace from planning to opening. But to those of us directly involved, it seemed like a long and arduous journey. At times we questioned whether we would succeed. But we never questioned the importance of the project or the need for educating the public by bringing the voices and faces of Arab Americans to mainstream audiences. Our goal, as our mission states, is “to enhance the knowledge and understanding about Arab Americans and their presence in the United States .”

There are 4.2 million of us in this country today, according to the best estimates. This represents a significant group within the overall national population. In Michigan alone there are nearly a half-million Arab Americans. This explains in part the location of the new museum in Dearborn , just a few miles outside Detroit , in the heart of the Arab-American community there. The museum is also directly across the street from Dearborn City Hall. We like the symbolism of that location, which suggests civic pride of place in the larger community. But there is also the reminder that throughout its history the city has been hostile to ethnic and racial minorities. It takes a certain amount of courage to persist in the face of such hostility, as so many Americans have learned firsthand over the centuries.

We were convinced of the need to establish the Arab American National Museum as an educational and cultural institution that, again in the words of our mission, “documents, preserves, celebrates and informs the public on the history, life, culture and contributions of Arab Americans.” There is a good reason for this, and it goes beyond simple ethnic pride. Arab Americans have been subjected to negative stereotyping for a long time. Stereotyping and negative portrayal are not all that unusual for minorities, of course. But currently it is not as “politically incorrect” for the media, Hollywood films and television and even public officials to attack Arabs or Islam. Thus, we have terms that are new to our present decade, such as “Islamic fascists.” The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have only made this trend more pronounced. It is all too easy, of course, for the general public to equate a fringe group of extremists with the whole of a population, even a population that is overwhelmingly peaceful, law-abiding and proud of the American part of its “Arab-American” status. This side of the story is seldom told in the media, however, and even less frequently in film, where the stereotype of the Arab bad guy seems to have completely supplanted the stereotype of the Russian bad guy of a decade or two ago. This has undoubtedly affected the image of Arab Americans in this country. I know it has for me, personally.

I came to the United States at the age 29, excited and full of hope for the opportunities that this country has given historically to millions of immigrants. Yet I was struck by the bad image that Arabs, especially Palestinians, Muslims and women, have in this county. This was a shock to me. As a Palestinian Muslim woman I realized all of sudden that for many people in this country I am an embodiment of what is backward and evil. I can speak for my colleague Maha Freij, the chief financial officer of our parent organization, who shares my background. She has often felt the same. So have many of my friends and colleagues.

But there was something positive to be taken from this situation. It was this very feeling of injustice that pushed me and the hundreds of people involved in this project to act. We were determined to do something to empower us as a community and instill pride, especially among our children and young adults.

Despite our fervor, we soon discovered that we faced enormous challenges in founding a museum. For one thing, none of us were museum professionals. We came mostly from social-service backgrounds. We did have a parent organization, though, that provided vision and human resources, as well as financial and logistical support. The Arab Community Center for Economic and Social Services (ACCESS) was founded in the U.S. in 1971. It is a nonprofit organization committed to the development of the Arab-American community in all aspects of its economic, social and cultural life. It began as a small storefront office but today has an annual budget of more than $12 million, with 70 different programs and a staff of 200.

ACCESS is the largest Arab-American organization in the United States and enjoys a strong local and national support. But it is primarily a social-service organization. And while ACCESS had had a well-established Cultural Arts department since 1987, we knew that building and running a museum is a complex endeavor.

The ACCESS Cultural Arts Department, though, offered a strong foundation to build on. Over the years they had offered statewide educational and cultural programs and established relationships with museums and cultural institutions in the region. The rapid growth and the increased demand for its services played a pivotal role in launching the museum. The department’s public programs and staff would later be integrated into the museum. Meanwhile we had the support of ACCESS’s staff and board, who themselves donated $402,000 to the museum’s capital campaign. We also had the support of ACCESS leadership, especially its CEO Ismael Ahmed and CFO Maha Freij, a tireless and gifted young woman who led the capital campaign.

Still, it worried us that our lack of museum background might hinder our efforts in the vision, planning and capital campaign phases of the project. In fact, the largest capital campaign ACCESS had implemented to date was $3.9 million, significantly smaller than the $16 million needed for the museum.

But we also knew that the last few decades have witnessed the creation of a number of highly successful ethnic museums, such as the Charles H. Wright Museum of African American History in Detroit, the Wing Luke Asian Museum in Seattle and the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum of the American Indian in Washington, D.C., to mention only a few. And we were aware that these culturally specific institutions are for the most part a response to the exclusion of minorities from mainstream culture, including the museum field.

It was an added benefit to us that Irene Hirano, president and CEO of the Japanese American National Museum in Los Angeles and chair of the AAM Board, became a mentor to us in our efforts. She too came from a social-service background, and that was encouraging and comforting. We didn’t let our lack of museum experience prevent us from pushing forward. We knew that we had the vision, passion, conviction, capacity for hard work and the determination to build a powerful educational and cultural institution.

But what kind of museum would we build, and whom would it be for? These were topics of long and passionate debate. A museum that focuses on Arab Americans and tells their story from their own perspective could reinforce the view that Arab Americans are the “others,” not part of the larger American story. We were also concerned that the presence of ethnic museums might unintentionally “ghettoize” minorities. Would having our own institution to tell our own stories and present our own culture provide a further justification for our exclusion from the mainstream?

But ultimately we decided that by drawing similarities between Arab Americans and other immigrant groups, and by having Arab-American stories presented within the larger American story, our audiences would realize that the Arab-American story actually is the American story. It is the story of immigrants coming to this country to build a better life for themselves and their families. It has been repeated time and again since this country was founded.

A further complication was the question of representation. Claiming that we needed to tell our story in our own voice assumed that Arab Americans had one voice and one story. But the Arab world is vast and diverse. Arab Americans have been coming to the United States in significant numbers since the 19th century and continue to arrive on a daily basis. Earlier Arab immigrants were mostly Syrian and Lebanese Christian villagers. These immigrants of the 1950s and ’60s were largely urban professionals and more diverse in their national and religious background. The latest influxes of Arab immigrants are mostly Muslims from Yemen, Palestine, Lebanon and Iraq. They are typically refugees and victims of wars and economic hardship.

The diversity of Arab Americans transcends the time of immigration, national origin and religious background. Arab Americans live in small towns and in major metropolitan areas. Many have assimilated in suburban communities; others live in predominantly Arab-American enclaves. Some are middle- and upper-class professionals; others are farm and factory workers. Some Arab-American women are highly educated and work in a variety of professions; others stay home taking care of their families. Despite this diversity, Arab Americans do share a sense of ethnic identity and cultural heritage.

The challenge for us was to create a museum with exhibits and public programming that would reflect the complexity of the Arab-American experience and represent the full religious, national, professional and lifestyle diversity. We wanted to create an institution that would make both a fourth-generation Christian whose great-grandparents came from Syria and a newly arrived Muslim immigrant from Iraq feel that the museum told their stories.

To address this issue we turned to personal stories. These form most of our exhibits. We traveled to many cities and towns, met with new immigrants and third- and fourth-generation Arab Americans. We collected stories, artifacts and historical documents from every state. For example, we acquired artifacts sold by a Christian Lebanese peddler in Massachusetts, a trunk of a Yemeni farm worker in California, a sewing kit of a Palestinian tailor in Michigan and a prayer rug of a recent Iraqi refugee who settled in Arizona. We heard hundreds of stories told by Arab Americans, their children and grandchildren. The museum also has many recorded oral histories collected from families, libraries and historical societies, including Ellis Island National Monument , which accompany the exhibits.

An additional challenge was the issue of constructing Arab-American identity—deciding who is and who is not an Arab American. Should we choose our own definition, a scholarly definition or the public media construct of Arab identity? For example, while some Lebanese Christians and Iraqi Chaldeans do not identify as Arab Americans, others do. How and who decides if these groups are to be included in the museum? This is also the case for children from mixed marriages.

Finally we decided simply to include those who define themselves as Arab Americans. Many Lebanese Christians were delighted to be included in the exhibit and responded positively to our calls for artifacts, photos and historical documents; a few did not, and we respected their choice. The same was the case with children of mixed marriages. In the case of Chaldean Americans, we included some stories within the exhibits of those who identify as both Arab and Chaldeans. We also added a special section about Chaldean immigration, which included stories of those who identify themselves as Chaldean Iraqi Americans rather than Arab Americans.

What complicated all this even further is the fact that one year after we started the planning process, the tragic events of Sept. 11, 2001 , took place. Overnight the task of dealing with identity and representation became vastly more challenging. The complexity of people’s identity and the way it is affected by political events could not have been more evident than it was in the case of Arab Americans.

After   Sept . 11, many Arab Americans felt under attack; fear and apprehension dominated our community. Already subject to negative stereotyping, Arab Americans were now encountering even greater hostility. Many faced loss of employment, detention and harassment by law enforcement agencies as well as the public. Even the CEO of ACCESS, Ismael Ahmed, a great-grandchild of Lebanese immigrants, born in Brooklyn , a well-known and respected leader in Michigan , was attacked as he stopped at a red light in Dearborn .

Many Arab Americans wanted to distance themselves from their Arab heritage and did not want to share their stories and experiences. Some of the people whom I had planned to feature in the permanent exhibits contacted me, demanding not to be included and asking for their artifacts back. They expressed fear at having their stories in an “Arab” public place like the museum. Some, especially new immigrants who were most often victims of hostility, questioned the legitimacy and the sanity of building an Arab-American museum in the existing climate.

While some of the fear faded away as time passed, some people continued to be apprehensive about being included in the museum. A Palestinian American from Los Angeles told me that he “lost” all the materials he was planning to send, and an Iraqi American who indicated in his initial story that he left Iraq because of the U.S. economic embargo after the first Iraq war contacted me just prior to the second Iraq war, asking me to send all his material back to him. However, when we look at the larger picture, the overall response of the Arab-American community has been very encouraging. The hundreds of valuable artifacts, historical documents, photos and oral histories that are included in the three permanent exhibits have all been donated by members of the community. We did not have to purchase a single item.

But challenges remained. Those who came from major urban areas and had high levels of education were much more willing to share their stories with us and donate their artifacts. Many new immigrants, an important segment of the Arab-American population, did not feel as comfortable. They were either concerned with basic needs like simply finding jobs or they were afraid to tell their stories. The individuals most reluctant to share their stories were newly arrived Iraqi and Palestinian immigrants.

There was also the challenge of documenting Arab-American contributions. While we realized the importance of including the contributions of individuals such as Dr. Ahmed H. Zewail, recipient of the Nobel Prize in chemistry, or Tony Shalhoub, actor and Emmy Award winner, or Christa McAuliffe, who died on the Challenger space shuttle, we felt that the contributions of ordinary people such as automobile, railroad and mine workers were just as important. An example is Arab Americans who served in the military. Should there be more weight given to the contributions of a person who reached a high rank in the military, such as General George Joulwan of NATO, Lieutenant Alfred Naifeh and Brigadier General William Jabour, Vice Commander of the Aeronautical Systems Center, than to the contributions of foot soldiers who died in the field?

And then this equally crucial question: If we build an Arab American National Museum , will people really come? Who will they be? Can we sustain public interest? Coming from non-museum backgrounds, can we successfully lead such a project? Will the Arab-American community support it? Will they be willing to share their stories, donate their money and give their valuable artifacts?

In short, can we make this work?

One thing we had going for us was our place within the community. Michigan is home to a diverse and highly concentrated Arab-American population. The metro Detroit area serves as the commercial, social and spiritual capital of Arab Americans. Journalists, students and scholars interested in Arab Americans come to Detroit and Dearborn to conduct research.

Arab Americans have been an integral part of Detroit ’s history since the 1880s. Early Arab immigrants worked as peddlers, grocers and unskilled workers. Their number increased dramatically after World War I. They were attracted to the area by the booming automobile industry, especially Ford’s eight-hour, $5 workday. Many settled in Dearborn at the foot of the Ford’s legendary Rouge Plant. Arab immigrants continued to arrive over the years, even in times of economic recession, attracted by the security of extended family and fellow villagers who had already settled in the area. There is sense of belonging provided by the size and diversity of the community and its well-established educational, religious and cultural institutions.

So we knew we had a home. When ACCESS purchased an old three-story furniture building that had been boarded up for many years, we had a building. And it was right across the street from Dearborn City Hall .

Now the hard part: demolishing the building and replacing it with a museum. Our first step was to seek advice from our friends in the Michigan museum community and from professionals at other ethnic museums in the country, many of whom we had absolutely no relationship with at the time. In spite of our apprehension that we might be asking too much, the support we received from museum professionals was one of the most enriching experiences we had.

Among the first we approached was Steve Hamp, then president and CEO of the Henry Ford Museum and Green Field Village (recently renamed The Henry Ford) and Irene Hirano of the Japanese American National Museum . Both made themselves and their senior staff available throughout the planning years and even after we opened. In early 2004, Hirano was generous enough to offer us a week of training at the Japanese American National Museum in Los Angeles for six of our staff who were involved in planning for the museum, including myself and Maha Freij.

A next step was to gather information. In early 2001 we hired the Milwaukee-based Growth Design Corporation to assess the Michigan community’s support for the museum and to recommend strategies for increasing and sustaining it. We hired Zogby International to conduct a market analysis and feasibility study of AANM’s potential audience and income. Both studies results were encouraging. The Growth Design study reflected the trust of Arabs and non-Arabs in ACCESS’s ability to raise the needed funds and establish, manage and sustain the museum. Zogby’s study reflected the public opinion of the larger community, Arab and non-Arab, about the need for such an institution and the public’s willingness to support it by donating, becoming members, visiting the museum and attending its public programs. It also concluded that the museum could be a sustainable institution.

From here we moved to design. We retained the services of Jack Rouse Associates, a museum planning and design firm based in Cincinnati . From the Detroit area we hired Ghafari Associates, an architectural firm, and J.M. Olson, a construction company. These groups have worked very closely with our staff since 2001. The Jack Rouse staff have often expressed their gratitude for being chosen to do this project and being given a chance to learn so much about the Arab-American community. Ghafari and Olson both use the museum in their current portfolios and consider the project a highlight of their firms’ work.

In early 2001 we created the Museum Task Force, a local advisory board that included members of the Arab-American community, scholars and museum experts. The task force met regularly for almost four years, and its members were instrumental in guiding planning, research and fund raising. The group was dissolved after opening the museum, yet many of its members still serve on museum committees dealing with fundraising, exhibits, collections, and library and resources. Next we established a National Advisory Board comprised of 65 of the country’s most prominent Arab Americans. The first meeting of the board was held in conjunction with opening of the museum.

Throughout the planning years, we visited museums and arts organizations across the U.S. to brainstorm ideas, explore possibilities and assess potential difficulties. One example is the Wing Luke Asian Museum , a community-based, nontraditional museum that represents a large Asian community even more diverse than our own. Director Ron Chew’s ideas about the collection and curating exhibits were fascinating. And we were encouraged that his institution, too, began as a community-based, grassroots organization.

As part of our planning strategy we held two national meetings in December 2001 and October 2002. These meetings brought together more than 50 scholars, museum professionals and community members to discuss the content of the museum’s permanent exhibits, educational and public programming, museum administration, collection policy and audience development. This was instrumental in helping us establish relationships with Arab-American communities around the country.

For more than eight months in 2002, the museum team, ACCESS executive staff and I traveled around the country. We held meetings and focus groups in most cities that have large Arab-American populations. We assessed the communities’ vision and expectations of an Arab American National Museum. We posed questions about what they would like to see in an Arab-American museum, what would make it reflect their own experiences. This was one of the most challenging experiences. We heard a variety of viewpoints. Some people were apprehensive about our ability to build such an institution or to raise the needed funds. Sorting through pages of notes after each meeting made us wonder if we could ever make sense of what we were hearing and about the validity of such a “democratic grassroots” approach.

But gradually we began to observe a certain consistency. Some consensus was emerging. There were a few ideas that came up over and over again. People wanted the museum to reflect the beauty and richness of Arab architecture and to be modern at the same time, to have a section about the contributions of the Arab world to world civilization, to address the issue of stereotyping and the exclusion of Arab Americans from history books and cultural institutions. They wanted our exhibits to reflect the long presence of Arabs in this country, their diversity, their work and contributions. Many mentioned the fact that Arab Americans have been part of the fabric of the United States. since its inception and have fought and died for this country since the War of Independence. These messages were critical in shaping the building, the exhibits and our public programming.

It is clear that ethnically specific museums have a role to play in enriching the cultural landscape of our nation. They are destined to reshape our understanding and widen our horizons. They may redefine the role of museums as educational institutions while reshaping what defines the arts, aesthetics and culture.

New challenges continue to emerge for us. As we expand our staff and programs and increase our audiences, we need to continue to be rooted in our community and be respectful and reflective of its needs. As an ethnically specific museum, we want also to be sure that we are inclusive of others and responsive to the changing demographics of our nation.

Building the Arab American National Museum has been a challenging yet very rewarding experience. Now that the museum has been open for a year and a half, some of the concerns we had are gradually fading away. The reaction of our audience—museum professionals, Arab Americans and non-Arabs, young and old—has been extremely positive. I have seen many Arab Americans, especially older people, cry as they go through our permanent exhibits.

Since we opened, the museum has become a proven cultural and educational destination for both Arabs and non-Arabs. In the first year alone more than 30,000 people visited; 75 percent came from Michigan , the remaining 25 percent from other states, Europe, China, England and the Arab world. Today our attendance is close to 1,000 visitors per week.

On a personal level, this has been a difficult journey but a journey that has greatly enriched my life. A sociologist by training, lacking formal museum experience, I often wondered if we would ever really pull this together. I am grateful to the ACCESS leadership who trusted me even when I doubted myself. I am especially thankful to my two colleagues and partners in this project, Ismael Ahmed and Maha Freij. I am also grateful to the hundreds of people who helped us make this dream a reality by giving generously of their time, money and family treasures.

Together, we were able share a vision and create a museum that our community can be proud of. An educational and cultural institution that welcomes as it educates, and educates as it entertains. A place where Arab and non-Arabs can learn more about Arab Americans, their history, culture and their great contributions to our nation.

The story on display

The museum’s second floor consists of three thematic galleries that employ multimedia activities, artifacts, film and video, music and audio, and still photographs.

• Coming to America examines the history of Arab-American immigration from 1528, when the first known Arab, Al- Zamouri from Morocco , landed in the Gulf of Mexico as a slave, up to the present time, with a special emphasis on specific waves of immigration since the 1880s. These waves are explored through the personal stories of Arab immigrants, reflecting the uniqueness of individual experiences as well as the broader experience.
• Living in America focuses on the life of Arab Americans in the United States during different time periods. Topics include family life, religion, activism and political involvement, institution-building, work and leisure. This exhibit takes our visitors through the experiences of homesteading, peddling and serving in the various wars. It explores the diversity of Arab Americans, their struggle to assimilate while holding to their cultures, discrimination and stereotyping.
• Making an Impact tells the story of hundreds of influential Arab-American individuals and organizations, such as world-renowned heart surgeon Dr. Michael DeBakey, consumer advocate and presidential candidate Ralph Nader, White House journalist Helen Thomas and NASA scientist Dr. Farouk el- Baz.