Are We There Yet?
On the Road in America tracks four young Arabs as they trek across America.By Nicholle Manners
July 7, 2008
On the Road in America stars ride Segways on their road trip.
With one reality television series, the Sundance channel hopes to single-handedly change American attitudes about Arabs. On the Road in America shadows four young Arabs as they trek across the United States and learn firsthand—through eating, dancing, politicking, and more—the complex meaning of America. The series is sort of like MTV’s Road Rules with a culturally sensitive twist.
Created by Academy Award-nominated producer Jerome Gary (Pumping Iron), the series harbors a clear agenda: to overcome cultural differences and dismantle both Arab and American stereotypes. After auditioning more than 600 people in Egypt, Jordan, Morocco, Lebanon, and Dubai, producers of On the Road selected three young men: 22-year-old Ali Amr of Egypt, 18-year-old Sanad Al Kubaissi of Saudi Arabia, and 27-year-old Jordanian Mohamed Abou-Ghazal. A female Palestinian crew member, Lara Abou Saifan, co-stars. Each episode features a new location that illustrates a specific national theme—democracy, capitalism, racism, pluralism. Through interpersonal exchanges with one another, their American crew, and the everyday residents they meet along the way, the show’s stars examine their assumptions and adapt their perceptions of the American socio-cultural landscape. Those watching at home are expected to reciprocate.
The show was initially aired on Middle East Broadcasting Centre (MBC) under the auspices of Layalina Productions—the Washington, D.C.-based nonprofit organization with a mission to “strengthen the existing bridges of mutual understanding” and “to create new ones.” This mission is effectively epitomized in the reflections of the youngest cast member. “There is no us and other. We’re all the same. People have to get this, to understand this, and to realize this. We see this stuff on TV that makes us believe that there is a war, but there’s isn’t. There isn’t a war. This is a war between politicians—people in suits in their offices, not with us people,” the road-tripping Saudi said.
Unfortunately, the show’s wealth of laudable maxims is not transformative. And On the Road’s abbreviated, yet analogous television counterparts suffer a similar fate. Because the program stars strictly voluntary participants and airs before elite audiences (even though the show is aimed at promoting broad understanding) the effect of its cable-projected lessons is significantly curtailed. A feel-good show in its truest sense, On the Road in America appeals most to those who need to hear its message the least.
On the Road sells its message, in part, by capitalizing on the unique experiences of its cast. Highlighting participants who hail from different Middle Eastern countries, the series sets out to proclaim: If they all can change, you can too. Yet, even as On the Road claims to employ the “prism of their perceptions” to help Americans “develop a better understanding of Arabs and hopefully themselves,” it is crippled by an elitist lens. An overview of the cast’s biographies reveals stints at the Modern Academy, American University at Dubai, American University of Beirut, and Lebanese American University at Beirut. Amr, the son of an esteemed journalist and professor at the Cairo Conservatoire, is a member of the Faculty of Law at Cairo University. At 16, Al Kubaissi studied for a semester at Brighton. Professional research doctor specializing in cancer studies, Abou-Ghazal, loves Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and Bob Dylan. When only the open-minded elite are chosen, permanent cultural collision is unlikely.
Still, On the Road projects its predetermined and predictable outcome to those most likely to agree with its conclusions—while maintaining the suspicious classification of reality television. Sundance’s affluent suburban/urban viewers no doubt interact quite regularly with a diversity of individuals—in the office, at their alumni meetings, in urban cultural centers. To them, the idea that outside of culture, politics, and religion, we’re all the same comes as little surprise. Limited to an audience the network deems “independent-minded viewers seeking something different,” the show no doubt falls short of a goal to introduce previously unexposed individuals to a new way of thinking because it fails to reach the proper targets.
The program, the latest in an evolving trend of narcissistic TV programming, not only reiterates moral adages, it replicates previous initiatives. An episode of Showtime’s This American Life, entitled “Two Wars,” and Morgan Spurlock’s F/X-aired edition of 30 Days, “Inside an American Muslim Family," are just two examples of televised attempts to breach the perceived Arab-American divide. Rooted in the 1990s preoccupation with human interest stories, this trend of cultural cross-pollination accomplishes little more than mass self-aggrandizement. The singular occupant of a booth emblazoned with an “Ask an Iraqi” sign featured on This American Life, doctor-lawyer couple opening their home to Caucasian West Virginian Dave Stacey for 30 days, and the bunch from On the Road share a deliberate trait of internationalism. As if adhering to a moralistic television programming template, each show reaches only those willing to cosign their conclusions with a cast of those most likely to reaffirm them.
Of elites, by elites, for elites, On the Road in America provides few meaningful insights for the target audience. In the words of Abou Saifan, “At least this show changed four Arabs.” It is doubtful that On the Road in America will change many more Americans.
Nicholle Manners is an Editorial Intern with Campus Progress and a senior at Yale University.
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