Poetry from experience
Ahmed Hameed, an Iraqi refugee with limb deficiency, perseveres through a turbulent childhood to become a track athlete and poet.
By Joey Vigil
Ahmed Hameed’s footsteps are heavy as he walks on to the stage at Roseville Area High School’s Thein Auditorium. He takes a moment to gather himself, but the bright blue stage lights distract him. There’s no time to think — his mouth opens as his poem spills out.
Hameed, 18, was born in Mosul, Iraq, in 2005 with limb deficiency. His left leg is full length, but his right leg stops at the knee. Born into the Iraq War, Hameed’s childhood was a struggle. Even something as simple as walking outside during broad daylight was dangerous.
“It was just a lot of suffering over there,” Hameed said about his time in Iraq. “A lot of death.”
His first prosthetic leg constantly fell off due to how flimsy it was. The hospitals in Iraq were of extremely poor quality. Doctors wouldn’t wear gloves; in fact, Hameed’s aunt died due to an infection contracted from a surgery. His parents realized early on that Iraq couldn’t provide the medical services their son deserved. Hameed and his family made the difficult decision to move to Egypt when he was 5.
Hameed’s family endured the long trip to Cairo, Egypt. Although he was now receiving proper medical attention, the cost put the family in poverty. They moved from house to house, eventually ending up in a refugee camp. Hameed was homeschooled because of his surgeries, making finding friends difficult. Despite this, He carries happy memories of his time there. He felt welcomed and secure. He fell in love with Egypt.
After a couple of years, the Hameeds were faced with another difficult decision. Doctors in Cairo told them that they had done all that they could, and that they had two options if they wanted to continue his treatment. They could move to a European country or to the United States.
“You definitely get viewed differently. You get treated inhumane, you’re dehumanized. I didn’t know that this was such a big problem to people, because this is my normal.” — Ahmed Hameed, senior at Roseville Area High School
Maplewood, Minnesota, was the first place where Hameed felt different. Despite having experienced being minority Kurdish in Iraq, and despite having experienced being Iraqi in Egypt, being disabled in America was his first experience of discrimination.
“You definitely get viewed differently. You get treated inhumane, you’re dehumanized,” Hameed said about his experience. “I didn’t know that this was such a big problem to people, because this is my normal.”
Kids would run away from him. Others refused to be his friend, let alone be near him. They called him a one-legged bitch. The message was clear: The other kids were disgusted. He was ostracized and excluded for being different.
Things didn’t get better when he became wheelchair bound in the eighth grade. A nine-hour procedure to combine his tibia and fibula into one bone set him back for months. It was only temporary, but no explanations from doctors about timelines could make him feel any better. He was shocked. The news that he wouldn’t be able to live normally, let alone walk, hit him like a ton of bricks and killed whatever momentum he had built up.
He felt anger. He felt hatred. He felt resentment towards those he felt had wronged him. But this was the beginning of change, even if he couldn’t see it yet. For Hameed, it was make or break from this point moving forward, and high school was fast approaching.
“I would see people with blades running and I was like, ‘now that looks cool’. If they can do it, I can do it. It’s so much different because I don’t see a lot of people that look like me.” — Ahmed Hameed, senior at Roseville Area High School
After a rocky freshman year spent online due to COVID-19, Hameed decided to join the track team in his sophomore year. He wanted to be a part of a high school sport, and seeing athletes like Richard Browne Jr. — a Paralympian who runs with a running blade — inspired him.
“I would see people with blades running and I was like, ‘now that looks cool,’ ” Hameed said. “If they can do it, I can do it. It’s so much different because I don’t see a lot of people that look like me.”
A year after learning how to walk again, he learned how to run. Adjusting to the running blade wasn’t easy, but Hameed was hungry to prove something. A new leg, no prior running experience, people’s judgments: None of it mattered to him. People told him he could never run, and he proved to himself that he could break the barriers others put on him.
“He’s set on showing other people that he’s capable. He wants other people to understand that his differences don’t make him an inferior person, and that’s exactly what motivates him. He wants to do these things to make a statement.” — David Kassa, senior at Roseville Area High School and Ahmed Hameed’s best friend
Hameed took the experiences from his life and began transforming them into poetry. In his senior year of high school, the opportunity to perform his poetry at the RAHS Black History show came up. His best friend, David Kassa, encouraged him to try it out.
“[Hameed is] set on showing other people that he’s capable,” Kassa said. “He wants other people to understand that his differences don’t make him an inferior person, and that’s exactly what motivates him. He wants to do these things to make a statement.”
And as he walked across the stage, his heart beat hard. He paused for a moment, hesitant and stiff. But as he remembered why he wrote the poem, the worries washed away. He performed “The Boy who Grew from Coarse Sand”, an autobiographical recollection of his life. When he finished, the audience rose to their feet and gave him a standing ovation. At that moment, Hameed realized that he had finally let go of his anger and found peace.
