I'm Not a Terrorist, But I've Played One on TV Read Online Free Page A

parts, no matter what. After all, 99.99 percent of Middle Eastern people are not terrorists, and by playing one on television I was promoting this stereotype. So I said, “That’s it, never again.” Then the show 24 called. They said they had a part for a terrorist.
    â€œNo!” I told them.
    â€œBut,” they continued, “he changes his mind halfway through the mission!”
    â€œAhhh, the ambivalent terrorist! I suppose it doesn’t hurt to play just ONE more,” I said. “I mean, this guy’s a terrorist with a heart of gold. I’ll bring humanity to the role. And then quit my day job. Emmy Awards, take two.”
    Even my family and friends were getting tired of watching me die. It’s exhausting bragging to people that you were hired to star in a movie or show and alerting them to when the program will air, all the while knowing that the story will climax with your death. After the episode of 24 aired, my mother called to discuss my burgeoning film career.
    â€œVhy you keep dying?”
    â€œWhat do you mean why do I keep dying? This is the movies. That’s how they write it, Mom.”
    â€œVhy don’t you kill dem von time?”
    â€œI can’t just kill them. There are scripts, wardrobes, directors, other actors. I can’t just start doing my own thing.”
    â€œSure you can. Vhen they say ‘lights, camera,’ you go on camera. Don’t vait for ‘action,’ you little pussy. That movie you were in vith Chuck Norris—I vatch again the other day. There vas plenty of opportunities to kill him, but he kill you instead.”
    It was not just me who was sick of dying. It was my mother, too. And that’s when I took my final stand and stopped taking these parts. I have not played or auditioned for another terrorist role in more than ten years. My management knew about my choice and although they supported it, there were times they just wanted to triple-check that I was still standing strong.
    One time my agent called and said, “I’m about to pass on an audition for a big film for you but just wanted to make sure you’re cool with it.”
    â€œWhat’s the audition?”
    â€œThree words—United. Ninety. Three.”
    â€œIt’s about the flight on nine-eleven?”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œAny good guys?”
    â€œYeah, but they’re all white.”
    â€œI guess it’s a pass.”
    Sometimes I’d see the advertisements for these films—big billboards posted around Los Angeles—and think, Am I shooting myself in the foot? But then the films would come out and I would spend my hard-earned American money to see them and remember how uncomfortable I would have felt portraying an Arab terrorist. Especially after the good feeling I had when I took a stand all those years ago. So I haven’t worked in ten years, but at least I feel good about myself.
    Okay, truth be told, I have worked. I’ve played cab drivers, donut shop owners, falafel stand cooks, and even doctors. Yes, an actual doctor. One who didn’t try to hijack the hospital. Hey, don’t judge—breaking stereotypes takes time.
    Years ago I ended up on the Colbert Report, where my position on the matter came up during our interview.
    â€œYou refuse to audition for a part of a terrorist?” Stephen Colbert asked.
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œWell, I agree. That’s insulting,” he said. “At this point in your career you should be offered the role of a terrorist.”
    â€œI’d rather just not do them.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œThe reason is, being of Middle Eastern descent, I feel there’s more to Middle Eastern people, and you can see terrorism on the news all the time.”
    â€œBut someone has to play the terrorists out there. We need the terrorist figure in movies to focus our rage.”
    â€œBut you can focus your rage at the news that shows the