The Al-Bustan Experience: Camp 2017

I’m Adam. I was the counselor in charge of Group ‘Baladi’ (Arabic for ‘my country’) at Al-Bustan Camp. Despite my height and spattering of facial hair, I was pretty much a camper myself. That’s because everything the children did and learned, I did and learned, too. Shoulder to shoulder, we recited Ustadh Yaseen’s Arabic lessons and songs and banged on the Tabla with Ustadh Hafez. We crafted radial designs and herbal concoctions with Ustadha Lisa, told stories with Momma Sandi, Brother Nashid Ali, and Kala. I have to say there’s no better way to learn than by being ten years older than all the other students in the room.

I’m quite versed in the ways of Al-Bustan, being I was actually a camper myself from a young age, both my own and the program’s. As I greet parents dropping their children off in the morning, I realize that I can’t tell them about all the magic that goes down once camp begins. Much of the experiences I’ve had, that I wanted to tell them their children would have, remain unavailable for articulation. But I know. I’ll try to share some of what I know now.


I know what it’s like to sit there and loll my oversized head and then all of a sudden, a teacher has directed me back to Earth where there is Arabic before me. Arabic! Yep the language that my parents speak at home. The one that I understand but I’m not confident enough to speak. The one that’s responsible for making unpronounceable the names of all those dishes I love but my American friends have never heard of. The one that gave me my name! Masha’Allah! Yes that one!

Anyway, I know what it’s like in the art room, waiting for Ustadha Lisa to finish her explanation because I’ve already snatched one of the colored pencils from the middle of the table, and this color is mine, and I’m going to make a fish, and I’m so excited, and as soon as it’s time to actually let loose I have no idea what I’m doing because I wasn’t really listening. Yeah. That happens. I always loved art.

I definitely know the drumming circle, the drum that’s too big for my little lap, so it wobbles when I play it. I know how to say “Dum, dum, tik-a-tak, dum, tik-a-tak, tik-a”, and then how to play it, and then how to tell you what that rhythm is called. It’s called baladi. (woah, isn’t that, like, the name of our group?!) I know the impulse to tap, tap, tap that tabla while Ustadh Hafez is talking but I refrain so I don’t miss a beat!

Something we brought back this year is the Dabke. We learned to dance. Sort of. Group Baladi was the absolute unruliest of the three when trying to teach the thing. They just wanted to play ninja. I’m a sucker for ninja. I beat everyone my second time around. But we had to learn it! So together we counted the steps, wahed, ithnan, thalatha, arbaa, khamsa… Or around the circle, holding hands, and we’d go wahed… ithnan… wahed… ithnan…. wahed, ithnan… Funny. We could never get the whole thing down unless the word ninja was mentioned.

Playful learning aside, Al-Bustan reminds me of home, which, Isuppose was the original mission for young Arab-Americans like myself. It’s never just Arab-Americans, however; there are campers with heritages from around the world and some whose histories lie in mystery. Some who shrug their shoulders when asked where they’re from and say, “Ana min Philadelphia!” (‘I am from Philadelphia’) It’s all great. We all get reminded of our homes, the ways in which culture and language express our lineage and livelihoods.
– Adam Bdeir, Temple University Class of 2020


A Journey In How Arabic Language & Arab Culture Shape Perspectives

In my freshman year at Motivation High School, I was exposed to something that would be instrumental in shaping my future and career goals.  I had  the opportunity to study the Arabic language, which is unique and rarely taught in American secondary educational  institutions. As I continued my academic journey,  I had the great privilege of traveling to Morocco in North Africa, where Arabic is one of the primary languages. This experience allowed me to gain better understanding of different cultural traditions and even develop friendships that will last a lifetime. As my passion for  the Arabic language grew, I was able to further my studies at Middlebury Monterey Language Academy, and now at West Chester University.

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Soumya Dhulekar (Programs Coordinator) and Byquill Mosley (Counselor/Intern) working together at Al-Bustan Camp.

Arab culture and the Arabic language have opened an abundance of doors for me and will continue to pry open more doors of opportunity for me in the future. Through my participation in Arab cultural traditions and institutions, I was able to gain a broader perspective on life. The language has also given me a wonderful opportunity to intern this summer for Al-Bustan Seeds of Culture, an arts based non-profit organization in West Philadelphia.

Interning for Al-Bustan Seeds of Culture over the years has been an eye opener for me on many levels. I never realized how big of an impact one organization has on an entire cultural community. During my internship I had the opportunity to meet immigrants and refugees from Syria and Iraq, who sought sanctuary in the city of Philadelphia. Just interacting with the families and hearing their stories made me realize that I will be continuing my career as a humanitarian domestically and internationally far into the future. As Al-Bustan continues to be very supportive of immigrants and refugees in the community, I am glad to to be a part of an organization that tries to improve the lives of others  through altruistic deeds.  Al-Bustan’s mission is not just to expose Philadelphia to Arab culture, but to develop better relationships in our city regardless of ethnicities, religion and political affiliation.


Wrapping up the last day of Al-Bustan Camp with an amazing team of campers, educators and counselors!

One of Al-Bustan’s key contributions to the Philadelphia community focuses on helping people understand Arab  culture through initiating  conversation and through the arts.  That’s huge to me because Arabic language and culture helped me reach certain heights. These heights are reachable for anyone, you just need to be open to experiencing new things. Through this internship program, I was able to see first hand the day-to-day operations in running a successful arts based non-profit organization in a major city. I also  learned certain aspects and the amount of diligence that goes into running a non-profit organization. Thanks to Executive Director, Hazami Sayed, for establishing  Al-Bustan Seeds of Culture, as it truly taught me how to use my knowledge of Arabic language to benefit my community.

Byquill Mosley- Intern at  Al-Bustan

West Chester University

Class of 2019

Reflections on (DIS)PLACEMENT – Through The Arts

Weeks of planning from Al-Bustan’s staff led up to the (DIS)PLACED Arts Workshop on June 22nd. The theme of our (DIS)PLACED project is to highlight not only the physical reality of moving or immigration (whether through coercion or choice), but also the mental state or condition of being displaced. Over fifty people participated in the workshop, from a variety of backgrounds and with a great diversity of experience. All different age groups, ethnicities, nationalities, races, and religions were represented; the enormous diversity and plurality of experiences seemed to encourage increased connections and communication between different individuals.

What struck me the most was the fact that in a group with such divided experiences, almost everyone could reflect on and express their own emotions, thoughts, and experiences stemming from displacement. It has become clear to me over the course of this project that displacement is a universal condition of the human experience. My own life experiences have been shaped by displacement: First the displacement of my grandparents from Pakistan to Europe, and then that of my parents and I from Europe to America. Not everyone has experienced the forcible displacement that refugees in the Middle East and around the world are experiencing on a daily basis, however, being able to understand the feelings associated with displacement is a step towards developing the empathy to relate to their stories. This became tangible to me during the workshop.

Syrian installation artist Buthayna Ali had been invited to participate in a workshop with us during the summer months as an artist in residence, but the reality of the travel ban eventually made this impossible. This did not deter Al-Bustan from showcasing Ali’s work, and Ali helped participants engage with difficult themes and topics using her artistic process as a means of expression. She managed to present her work and lead the workshop by videoconference from Damascus against the odds. As I watched her interact with audience members in Philadelphia, a location where she was expressly forbidden from physically being by the current American administration, I felt that this was truly a symbol of artistic vision and exchange overcoming the bigotry and hate that divides our world today.


My final thoughts as I helped lead workshops and watched as audience members continued to engage with the challenging theme of displacement was the power of varying and diverse kinds of arts as modes of expression. Through music, poetry, and visual art, participants in the workshops were able to unlock and express their own narratives, as well as understand those of their fellow participants, bridging gaps in culture and experience.

Anisa Hasan-Graneir – Summer 2017 Intern, Sociology Major at the University of Pennsylvania, Class of 2020

Tracing Roots of (DIS)PLACEment in Philadelphia


A commonly seen sign on the front porches of homes in West Philadelphia

The term “melting pot” has itself melted into a vaguely generic notion of people arriving from different places to a location where they all coexist, when the reality is that the term is misleading because, oftentimes, there is an institutional and societal hierarchy still embedded within. Hearing the term applied to the entirety of the United States, unfortunately, still raises eyebrows and doubts to this day. It is no secret that privilege and prejudice remain widespread across the nation and the globe, but it is comforting to know that their existence does not erase the sincere goodness many people have for their fellow human beings. Nonetheless, individuals from different ethnicities, races, faiths and other identities come together and celebrate what they have in common in addition to their unique traits. In settings such as the first (DIS)PLACED Public Forum that took place on March 25, it is evident just how prominent the themes of diversity and displacement are within our community.

The politics of a community greatly influence its inhabitants’ capacity to welcome diversity and inclusivity. Perhaps that is why Philadelphia, a sanctuary city, has a proliferation of neighborhoods with front porches adorned with signs that serve as a reminder of the community’s innate sense of camaraderie.

The Philadelphia community itself encompasses people of diverse backgrounds, which innately strategized the discussions held at the (DIS)PLACED Public Forum. The event began with a simple yet thoughtful activity: Asking attendees to place a yellow sticker on a giant, walkable map of Philadelphia in the Philadelphia History Museum to pinpoint an area where they trace back their arrival to Philadelphia, or their first significant memory there. In no time, the map was marked with yellow dots across different locations in the region that signified pivotal and meaningful locations to many different individuals. What was a mere memory or fact of a person’s arrival to Philadelphia soon became a conversation-starter for the attendees, who genuinely expressed interest in one another’s background regardless of outwardly differences or even mundane similarities to some.

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Huda Fakhreddine and Nazem El Sayed mark meaningful locations to them on a map of Philadelphia

In addition to sharing their own personal stories, attendees participated in thought-provoking dialogues when they were asked to be divided into groups to learn about certain displaced persons whom Al-Bustan has been keeping in touch with for a period of time. Upon learning about these individuals, participants shared personal insight on themes such as what struck them the most about these stories, what issues rise with this new information, and if these real-life stories confirmed or challenged any notions they already held about displacement. Themes such as privilege were critically discussed by participants. After concluding this activity, artists Kinan Abou-afach and Hafez Kotain performed traditional Arabic pieces that blended beautifully into the atmosphere of the event and its theme. They were followed by Nazem El Sayed, who recited powerful Arabic poetry directly related to displacement as Huda Fakhreddine meticulously translated the verses into English.

The final activity involved critical discussions on identity transition, home and belonging. Participants engaged in analytical dialogue, and were soon carrying the formal event discourse into casual conversations as lunch, beverages and dessert were served by local favorite Manakeesh Cafe Bakery and the popular Halal Guys. The genuine interest participants had in each other’s stories had expanded by the end of the event, and manifested itself in the connections and friendships that were forged that day.



One of many signs hung by local businesses and organizations across Philadelphia

Philadelphia is undoubtedly a city where diversity is proudly embraced by its inhabitants, but that does not mean it has reached a utopian status in achieving total and unquestionable egalitarianism yet. Recent political and social events have played a role in bringing people together, forming allyships and facilitating people to look after one another, but issues such as macro- and microagressions have a long way to go before citizens begin a significantly cognizant mission of unlearning these systematic methods of discrimination.


Being an ally is a conscientious and methodological task, but it is not by any means too challenging to achieve. In order to become an efficient ally and community member, one must remember that it is a constant state of learning (and unlearning) how to be supportive to those around you. One must also never underestimate their capability to impact positive change within their own community. The (DIS)PLACED Public Forum has met expectations by being a space for critical and eye-opening discussion, and Al-Bustan looks forward to holding more (DIS)PLACED events of the same caliber this year.

Positioning Arab American Identities Within the Nonprofit Sector

This fall season has and continues to offer me valuable experiences. Joining Al-Bustan Seeds of Culture as a NNAAC Transformative Leaders Fellow in early September and learning how matters operate behind-the-scenes of community events and educational sessions that Al-Bustan hosts has truly amplified my appreciation for the nonprofit sector.

An important part of the Transformative Leaders Fellowship involved a recent orientation in Dearborn, Michigan. The orientation was an incredible opportunity to network with inspiring mentors including Mike Corbin, Amer Zahr, Rachid Elabid and Asha Noor – to name a few. Meeting other NNAAC fellows across the States was also a unique opportunity to connect with like-minded individuals, as well as enhance my and their knowledge as to how we can become effective members in our respective organizations and the nonprofit sector as a whole.


Front entrance design of the Arab American National Museum in Dearborn, Michigan.

As we learned new skills to help us navigate through our present and future goals, we were frequently reminded of how important the voices of Arab Americans, along with the voices of other people of color, not to mention Millennials, with an emphasis of how much stronger our social responsibilities are than our predecessor’s given the current state of Arab American issues. We were encouraged to think critically about the roles we play in our communities as individualistic Arab Americans, and how we can bridge socio-political gaps between ourselves and other identity groups around us. In addition to challenging ourselves and thinking outside of the box, we learned more about grant writing and devising work plans that will be of use not only in our respective organizations, but also for accomplishing personal future goals.

Within the span of our two-day orientation, we held meetings at the Arab American National Museum and ACCESS, both locations which are apt environments for the themes we were discussing and learning about. We also had some time to explore Dearborn quite a bit, which truly felt akin to familiar cities I have been to when I lived in the Arabian Gulf region. The proliferation of Arab restaurants, halal options and shisha lounges did make Dearborn stand out to me next to other cities I have been to in the States.


NNAAC Transformative Leaders Fellows 2016-2017

Having gained a new set of skills and an expanded perspective of how grand the nonprofit sector is, I feel incredibly fortunate to have been accepted into this fellowship and the chance to work alongside Al-Bustan, whose work I had been impressed with the minute I learned about them earlier this year. I have always been an advocate of identity inclusivity and intercultural exchange, but I find myself reiterating that now, more than ever, the need for comprehensive compassion and deference can make a world of difference in creating and sustaining a safer America that encompasses diversity the way it was always meant to.

— Bushra Alfaraj, Transformative Leaders Fellow

Why It Matters to Make Refugees Feel Welcome in Philadelphia

It’s easy to take things for granted. A few months ago, I was stressing out about writing my college thesis, not having “enough” clothes, and having to adjust my budget to spend less on luxuries like my daily latte. It’s not that I consider my lifestyle extravagant to begin with, but -truth be told- there is a lot that I do not have to worry about in terms of financial security, safety and general stability.

That’s why my visit with Al-Bustan to the Nationalities Service Center was so eye-opening for me. I always considered myself fairly cognizant of the injustices around me, but hearing first hand about how refugees who have fled their homelands to the United States really put matters into perspective. Like many refugees before them, the Iraqis and Syrians who arrived to the United States this year had fled war zones and brutal living conditions, and we can only imagine how traumatic their endeavors have been.

But making it out of political madness is not the end of these refugees’ struggles. Many of them escaped overseas to the United States hoping to be taken into the welcoming arms of the American Dream, not knowing that this idealized notion has become just that – an elusive fragment of what was once a mostly accessible lifestyle to American citizens, that is now rendered to a systematic privilege that even the everyday-American can barely grasp a hold of.

Regardless of whether the refugees had drastically downgraded their lifestyles during the process of their escape, or whether they had already fled a similar lifestyle outside the context of political unrest, the fact of the matter is that many of them seem to be undergoing major culture shock. Instead of spacious homes surrounded by picket fences, many refugees are doing the best they can with smaller apartments that barely fit their family members with the level of comfort they are used to. At the end of the day, they do have roofs over their heads without the constant fear of impending attacks. For now, at least they have some sense of comfort and safety, but their wellbeing and stability are indefinite, as some struggle to pay rent and access basic living necessities. They are faced with challenges even outside of their new places of residence: Many refugees are not fluent in English or barely speak it at all, making it a struggle to simply communicate in a city where having at least beginner-level English language skills is necessary, not to mention having to adjust their interactions with others to what is considered the norm in America in order to fit in with the people surrounding them.


Refugee families enjoying  arts and crafts at an Al-Bustan event organized with Nationalities Service Center – photo by Dave Tavani

Many adult refugees have also had to compromise in terms of how they would support themselves financially by taking jobs that they are technically overqualified for, but unable to pursue in their new environment. When it comes to families, refugee parents are especially determined to make sure their children receive an American education that will enable them to seek opportunities while they are still within reach.

These are only some of the underlying issues we learned about through speaking to people working at the Nationalities Service Center as well as through talking with the refugees, and we can only imagine what else they are struggling with when they are back in their new households. That is not to mention the distress that has come about with the recent outcome of US elections and the effects it will have on existing refugees as well as prospective ones.

Bearing all of this in mind, it only strengthens my belief in our mission to promote intercultural communication and cross-cultural exchange, and that trying to ensure that respect and understanding are the minimum requirements to creating safe spaces for diversity in our communities. Knowing that our efforts are not limited to collecting donations and material needs, but also expanding to creating forums that welcome Arab refugees to the Philadelphia community, gives me hope that we are part of a dynamic that is representative of Philadelphia’s mosaic and Arab hospitality.

— Bushra Alfaraj, Transformative Leaders Fellow

An Overdue Appreciation for Arabic Musical Heritage

Love it or hate it, pop music has a way of highlighting the trends and themes of the era in which they are produced in, a characteristic which can take us back to unexpected trips down memory lane. Such is the case with me, a person who 1) seldom listens to Arabic music and 2) pretentiously says pop music generally is not that great… despite my having some guilty pleasure songs on my playlists.

A large portion of my adolescent years consisted of my older sister blasting different pop hits from the stereo, both in English and in Arabic. I also spent a lot of time with my cousins, who enjoyed bursting into their favorite Arabic pop anthems whether the occasion called for it or not. My interest in music was limited to pop-punk and alternative, almost all of which were in English. I had no interest in the Arabic songs that my family members and many of my Arabic-speaking friends enjoyed so much. In fact, I recall that my opinion on Arabic music was that they were all sappy love songs that used the noun “habibi” far too much to the point where the word lost its meaning in the midst of the musicians’ trying to create relatable and catchy tunes.

Halfway through my undergraduate studies, I discovered a genre of Arabic music that actually spoke to me – Arabic rock. I was totally caught by surprise when I realized how beautifully the language blends next to a hybrid of rock instruments and Middle Eastern ones. The truth is, I had always been slightly fond of oud and takht sounds, but never cared much for the lyrics that often accompanied them. Since then, Arabic rock bands such as Mashrou’ Leila and JadaL had made it to the list of my favorite artists by having created sounds that I love along with lyrics that I could relate to. I also found myself becoming intrigued with the culture of amateur remixes on YouTube, where people would combine Arabic and Western sounds to create fascinating sounds that, to me, sounded even better than the original songs.

After moving to Philadelphia from the Arabian Gulf region nearly three years ago, listening to Arabic rock/alternative artists had been one of the few things in my daily life that still tied me to my heritage. While I still mostly limit my taste in music to English-language rock anthems, I was caught by a pleasant surprise when I found myself nodding bushraa-150x150engagingly along to a choir of students performing Fairuz’s Nassam ‘Alayna al-Hawa earlier this year. Observing Hanna Khoury’s #iSingArabic sessions was not only pleasant on the ear, but his teaching the background behind each song the choir performed redirected my interest in the meanings behind certain classics. I even recall telling one of my Fairuz-fanatic cousins about the experience after I had come back from an #iSingArabic session, to which she was incredibly amused by how drastically my interest in Arabic music had shifted within the course of a few sessions: “I have been trying to get you into this kind of music for years! Who knew you needed to travel halfway across the world and listen to a live performance was all it would take to pique your interest!”

Alaa Wardi’s Evolution of Arabic Music video went viral several months ago, and I may not have enjoyed it as much had it not been for my newfound appreciation for Arabic music. While a part of my enjoyment may sneakily come from that nostalgia factor and the presence of certain songs during my childhood, I still feel that learning about the historical, social and political contexts of those Arabic hits is what makes me replay that video frequently and of my own volition.

-Bushra Alfaraj, Transformative Leaders Fellow