As I step from the plane, the familiar scent of ­cigarette smoke and car exhaust washes over me. The smell signifies summers distinct from those spent in America. Here there is no day camp or summer reading; instead there is both familiarity and exoticism, the promise of a new experience every day. Sometime during the 10-hour flight, the straight-cut lines of southwestern Connecticut transformed into the sights I see before me: a place where skyscrapers and pyramids, camels and taxicabs are seamlessly ­enveloped in the bright-orange sky of the Sahara. I imagine that if someone were to peer inside my mind they would be confronted with an image similar to this one – two distinct worlds blending into one yet somehow retaining a separate and individual character.

My hyphenated existence as an Egyptian-American has been an experience, to say the least. I often find myself struggling to fit within the traditional definitions of race and have found that many people wish to define me through labels like black, white, Hispanic, and Asian; replacing my cultural heritage and identity with simple colors and inaccurate descriptions. Upon discovering my ethnic origins, they ask a barrage of questions on ancient Egyptian culture (which I know nothing about) or the loaded question “What exactly are you?”

The Egyptian race is a mix of African, European, Arab, and Asian influences. Egyptians come in many skin tones, hair textures, eye colors, religions, and political views. I suppose this diversity is why, although I’ve lived in America my entire life, I never fully understood the importance of diversity and its cultural ramifications until I started high school. Unknown to me, I was entering a world of self-segregation – in which there were “black” and “white” ­cafeterias. Individuals were categorized on the basis of whom they associated with. My classmates segregated themselves, disregarding the diversity that surrounded them.

It was in this environment that my “Egyptian-ness” became an asset, enabling me to interact with all of my classmates, not just those who were similar, because in actuality I was similar to no one. Each peer gave me a new vantage point from which to view the world around me. Through these experiences I learned more about myself, and in the process discovered my passion for psychology. In time, I came to see my diversity, and the unrelenting questions that come with it, as a tool with which I could educate.

My mind may be muddled with images of exotic and not-so-exotic places, but it offers me a clear and realistic view of the diversity and opportunities to learn in the world. I can only imagine all the interesting people I will meet in college and their reaction when I tell them, “Yes, I am an Egyptian.”