“Are you running from bombs?” was the first thing my prospective new college friend asked me when he heard I was from Oman.
I laughed — not because it was funny, but because it was so out of place. For a moment, I thought I misheard him. Then my mind leapt to a rude reply: “Yes, the one you just threw at me.” But I kept it inside. He didn’t look confrontational, just like someone repeating a line heard too often.
“Sorry,” said my fellow student, a Washington state native who later conceded he’d never traveled to the Middle East. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just curious — why did you come to the U.S.?”
That second question shifted everything. Suddenly, it felt like I was talking to someone curious, not just hearing a stereotype thrown back at me.
I kept it simple. “Have you ever seen those lists of the safest countries in the world?” I asked. He said no. “What about quality-of-life rankings?” Still no.
So, I changed my approach. “I never heard a gunshot until I came here,” I told him. “Education and health care are free back home.”
He did not pause. “This is the Middle East?”
“Yes,” I said. “Oman.”
His face changed. Not in a bad way. More like his brain was trying to fix a picture that never made sense in the first place. So, I pulled out my phone and showed him Oman as I know it. Wadis. Mountains. Quiet roads. The green part of Oman, Salalah.
Then I showed him something unexpected: Oman as a destination for endangered nesting green sea turtles.
I added a fact that usually surprises people: A global terrorism index recently ranked Oman at zero. For me, that was not shocking. That was just home.
In a low tone, he said, “I should stop watching the news.”
If you are wondering, we became friends. I hope one day he visits Oman and sees it with his own eyes.
This is the cause I care most about: media literacy that changes how we all see each other and pushes us to move beyond false labels and have real conversations.
His stereotype did not come from nowhere. It came from repetition.
I need to admit something. I also had my own stereotypes.
Before I moved here, I thought Americans were always angry, racism showed up in every room and a gun could appear at any moment. I learned that from movies, short clips and news coverage that make constant danger feel like America’s main identity, not from experience.
Some dangers are real. But real problems are still used as shortcuts. One conflict becomes personality. One headline becomes culture. That’s how a stranger ends up asking me about bombs, as if it were a normal way to say hello!
Over time, you start adjusting yourself to avoid trouble. You pick safer topics. You measure your words. You wonder how your accent will land.
So how do we move past stereotypes?
It starts with asking the second question, one that lets you see the real person.
The first question is often the one you inherited. It is quick and loaded with assumptions. The second question is where the person finally shows up.
If you catch yourself about to ask something that pins a whole identity to one because of fear, stop and switch it. You can ask where they are from or ask what they miss. Ask what they want people to understand about home. Ask about what they love the most about home.
Then pay attention to what you consume. If the same group is always shown as violent, suspicious, or less human, that is not neutral. That is training. Even when you think you are being polite.
I am not asking anyone to ignore hard news. I am asking for basic care. Do not turn conflict into identity. Do not let a screen teach you how to talk to strangers.
The opposite of stereotyping is not simply learning more facts. It is slowing down, probing deeper and making room for a real conversation.
Remember: Ask the second question.
