Last week, I received sudden and heartbreaking news. My aunt, who was traveling from Qalqilya, Palestine (West Bank) to visit my ailing mother in Jordan, passed away unexpectedly. The news left all of us in shock. Yet, I decided to attend the inauguration of Ian B. Baucom as the 18th president of Middlebury College, because the only way we can truly honor and remember our loved ones is by carrying them in our hearts wherever we go.
It was my first time attending a university inauguration. In Jordan, presidential transitions at colleges and universities were only announced in newspapers — there were no formal ceremonies. The only inauguration I had ever seen was the coronation of the King of Jordan, so I had no idea what to expect — or what to wear. I had left my academic robe behind in Jordan when I moved to Middlebury, choosing instead to pack spices, traditional foods and my children’s favorite toys — things that would help them feel at home in a new country. Without the robe, I initially sat far from the faculty, feeling somewhat out of place.
But as the ceremony began, when I saw Zahra Moeini Meybodi, the associate Muslim chaplain and interfaith advisor, offer a land acknowledgement, I felt closer and more connected. I laughed so much that I thought I might be disturbing those around me when Professor Julia Alvarez shared, with her characteristic humor, why she wasn’t wearing her academic robe. She explained that she had given away all her robes and hoods, and that some had ended up in a second-hand shop where students might even find them to wear for Halloween. Her lighthearted story made me realize that what truly matters is not what we wear, but what we carry inside. I found myself stepping closer to the faculty seats.
Another moment that drew me in was when Dr. Jim Ryan spoke about the president. I loved how he described President Baucom as someone who is genuinely himself — laughing, crying, and openly sharing about his family. Family is a central part of my identity, yet in professional settings I often feel I cannot speak about them freely. Hearing that our president values his family and takes an interest in others’ families felt deeply authentic to me. It reminded me that sincerity and genuine care are what truly connect people.
Edward Said — a name I had read and written countless times while preparing my thesis, “The Discourse of Displacement in Arabic Literature” — suddenly came alive in the room when Professor Dima Ayoub mentioned him. She references Said because both he and President Ian Baucom share the title ’Out of Place’ for their books, which reflect on identity, place and home. In a way, we are invited to move from being “out of place” into the heart of Middlebury — to make it our own, to build a Middlebury identity that includes everyone, respects everyone, and creates space for all. When President Ian Baucom began reading names, I felt that I had stepped into the very heart of Middlebury.
The inauguration brought me closer to Middlebury, even though this is my fourth year here. It reminded me that what makes a place feel like home is not just the objects, rituals, or familiar items from the past, but the people who welcome us, recognize us, and make us feel part of something bigger.
When I first came here, I chose to leave my academic robe in Jordan to prioritize what I thought my children and family would need in a new home. Looking back, I wish I had brought the robe — but I now understand that the true sense of home, warmth, and belonging comes not from the things we carry, but from the people around us.
“What is Middlebury for?” This was the question President Ian B. Baucom asked us to reflect on as a community. For me, Middlebury stands for a high regard for education, a deep respect for human beings, a strong commitment to community and mutual support, and care for the environment and responsible use of resources. Most importantly, it is a place that brings people closer — step by step — helping each of us become an integral part of the community.
