“What's your name? Where are you from? What's your major?”

These questions encompass the universal first-year student experience. It’s so relatable that it was more than generously reposted as a TikTok or Instagram meme amongst my fellow freshmen. But apart from the initial entertaining irony, there is actually some sociological value in this phenomenon. What determines nationality to be amongst the top three indicators of identity?

When I introduce myself, my name serves the purpose of recognition, while my major offers the possibility for a shared interest. But questions of nationality often come with a lot of prejudices unique to each country.

Introducing myself as someone from whatever country I happened to be born into encourages the person meeting me to unconsciously associate me with the stereotypes they have of my country. The experience, whether active or passive, that I have had with a country, will now be connected to the individual. Only after some time might I see someone as humorous, attentive, and goal-oriented, rather than, for example, an Egyptian. In other words, I might come to see someone as an unique individual instead of someone from a specific nationality. Our friendships do not form based on nationality, but even if they do, nationality alone will never sustain one.

In my first month at NYU Abu Dhabi, I experienced friendships that formed as a result of shared characteristics, opposing characteristics that attract, or identities that derive from upbringings, more so than from nationality. Our generation is a free one, open-minded and independent in their thinking. We are united by shared ambitions for the future, rather than a similar past.

I do not intend to revolutionize our manners of introducing ourselves; to demonstrate that, let me introduce myself the common way: My name is Mira, I am German-Indonesian, and I intend to major in Political Science.

Having grown up in Germany as a child of mixed heritage has prompted me to steer clear of nationality-driven identities for myself. I know I am neither fully German nor Indonesian, and I know I don't fully fit in either place. However, that has not prevented me from being familiar with the feelings of belonging, of home and of culture.

“Where are you from?” The consistent repetition of the question during Marhaba week made me realize that I identify little with my country. Rather, I identify with my family, with the culture we practice, with the friendships I nurture, and with the interests I pursue. So far, my experience at NYUAD has shown me that most of us feel this way. The NYUAD campus hosts students from all over the world, and often, we encounter each other knowing little about the other person’s country. Sometimes, that prompts us to look for shared experiences and encourages us to ask the other questions.

When being asked what the place where I come from is like, I find myself clueless about what to say. What are the people like? Are they on time? Are they stingy? Are they open-minded? What is the atmosphere like in the country? I felt an insecurity arising whenever I uttered such a phrase. In my city alone, you can find the entire world reflected in some corner. There are rich areas, poor areas, lifestyles that are free and unpressured, all of this intertwining with structured, high-maintenance office lives. Who am I to generalize an entire nation, even if it happens to be mine?

Encountering people with gratifyingly different perspectives to mine challenged me to think about my country from an external view and made me realize how little I connect my identity to my nationality. Are the things I value about my home related to my nation at all? How universal are my experiences?

Whilst being confronted with the realization that I myself seem to not know exactly what distinguishes Germany, I encountered people that had a very specific image of the country I am from. After saying that I am from Germany, someone asked for a private conversation with me in which I was asked to rectify Germany’s activity in World War II (with the uncomfortable implication that as I, as a German, must, to some extent, be responsible for this event). It made me feel estranged from my country and irritated by the associations that some people have with my nationality. Other times, I was warmly surprised by the discovery that many of the small, daily cultural practices at my home are similar to those in Arab households, and hold commonalities with those in Asian countries. To me, that seems to confirm my perception that whilst culture and upbringing are factors of my identity, nationality plays a less significant role in my life.

Conversations and interactions in the past month at NYUAD made me realize that my nationality is not a significant factor in who I am. I find shared values with my friends that our parents passed on to us, even when we are from extremely different countries. I also find myself being drawn to ambitious people — those that share similar goals to me or hold goals that I admire.

Growing up with a mixed nationality, I witnessed that a mixed background can confine and free you simultaneously. On this campus, I feel like the same sentiment applies. This community does not fit into a single culture or nationality, which means its identity is not predefined. That comes with challenges, confusion and differences that may seem hard to overcome. However, it also grants us the opportunity to define ourselves beyond national stereotypes. The diverse community we are a part of enables us to learn about each other’s cultures and create our own traditions.