Our Ancestors’ Wildest Dreams: What Really Happened the Night I Took the Stage and Won The Pitch

It’s funny how quiet it feels before your name is called..

The lights dim

The room hushes..

And there’s this strange feeling where time folds in on itself. A flash of pictures, memories, and all of your being, bringing you to that moment..

Suddenly, everything feels dark except for the spotlight showing you where to go, the specks of dust dancing, waiting for you to join to that spot..

 

The spot.

Where everyone’s eyes will land.

But that’s not what I saw first.

I saw his peaceful face.

A father we lost in the last war on Lebanon.

He smiled at me as if to say: you’ve got this Farah..

We’ve done harder things than this, remember?

This is just another story to tell, and this is your responsibility towards our people.

The Application Process

A couple months before, I had submitted my application to the City of Dearborn’s Night of Innovation Inaugural pitch competition.

I filled it out with care..

but truthfully, I didn’t think I’d hear back.

Another thing to try.

Another thing to let go.

 

Applying for a pitch or a grant is something like a letter your pour your heart into and then you throw into a river stream, you know 99% that it wont come back but you still let go of it anyway to keep the magic alive in everything you do..

So I did.. I hit submit; anyway.

When I got the email that I was one of the five finalists,

I was grateful I took that chance.

I held the news quietly.

Didn’t want to put too much weight on it.

Maybe I was hesitant in getting excited.

It is that kind of feeling that children of war and kids of immigrants only know..

The feeling to “not to get too excited too soon”..

A week before the event, I started preparing my slides.

I kept them simple.

Just visuals.

Keywords I didn’t want to forget.

Numbers that mattered.

Slides that would make sense to no one but me, as I share Maraseel’s story with the audience.

And that was the point.

I wasn’t pitching.

I was just telling the truth.

I told the story of how Maraseel began..

after years of finding zero greeting cards that spoke our language, our heritage, our voice.

I talked about the roles I’ve lived through.

From teacher to mother to business owner.

From raising grades to raising voices..

I talked about fulfilling a need that no one wanted to acknowledge its existence..

 

Maybe part of the reason why no greeting cards were made for Arabs before was because we refuse to be sentimental, we have to focus on the the accolades, the accomplishments, the degrees, we have to always prove that we matter..

And what Maraseel did was that it acknowledged; that we also have intimate moments, we can be vulnerable and strong at the same time, we know how to love and we are learning how to receive love as well.

Here is a short video of the pitch - I will share the full version when ready on our socials 

The Contestants That Taught Me a Lesson

A few days before the pitch, we had a meeting to go over logistics and meet the other contestants and Bilal Hammoud of The Arab American Chamber of Commerce did an amazing job laying down the expectations and what constitutes a great pitch, he definitely put us on the right track..

Bilal was also incredibly supportive the day of the pitch.. kept easing up the space for us and showed up where he needed to: on stage and behind it..

But believe it or not, this short meeting was one of the most important parts of the whole experience.

From the very beginning, it was clear:

everyone there was just a genuinely good human.

There was Ahmed Anani from Tribal Remedy, a halal organic supplement brand rooted in healing.

Ahmed Badr from Badr Incubator, building a content creation incubator for small  and micro businesses.

Marwa Hachem from Marwa Hachem’s Fine Arts Studio, using art as a form of healing.

And Mohamed Hamade and his team from ExpressLane Game Play, building an incredible game from scratch.

And I was there to represent our Maraseel!

Every one of us wanted to win.

But none of us wanted to win alone.

We wanted each other to win too.

That’s rare.

And I don’t take it lightly.

Every Other Role

It felt amazing to have one of those - once in a blue moon - days where I didn’t have to carry all my roles at once. Where for ONE day, I was allowed to be: Farah; Maraseel’s Founder and that’s it.

 

My husband; Ali, picked up the girls

brought food..

Took care of them all afternoon and got them ready for bed.

That alone is a win.

That alone meant the world.

I had asked Julia, my eldest, to come to the pitch with my parents.

I wanted them to feel proud, again and again..

 

I think I also wanted them to understand what I am doing because our parents kind of never understand what we are doing..

But honestly.. the mother in me wanted something else even more…

I wanted my daughter to see what it looks like..

when a woman faces every doubt and still stands up for herself.

I wanted her to look back at this day and say if mama could do this, then I can do more..

The Night Before..

The night before the pitch, my heart was racing.

Not because I was scared to speak.

I’ve taught hundreds. Actually a couple thousand students probably..

But ironically: I was scared still..

I was scared to win.

What if I start believing the hype?

What if success changes me?

What if I forget that everything I have is from God?

What if I take an opportunity away from someone that really needed it more than me?

Something in me felt guilty.

Because they all deserved to win too.

How do you stand in your light

when you want to make room for everyone else’s too?

But then I sat with that feeling..

and I realized something important.

If Maraseel wins,

it’s a win for all of us.

And if someone else wins,

that too is a win for all of us.

This wasn’t about who wins.

It was about: whose turn it is.

I had to sit with those thoughts.

Remind myself of the work I’ve done.

The investments I’ve made.

The sacrifices behind every inch of this business.

It’s one thing to know it.

It’s another to own it.

Ahmad, my brother, said something powerful that next morning:

These moments reveal your real character.

You can’t lie on stage.

The truth will always show..

The Morning Of

That morning, I dropped off the girls

stayed in my pajamas

then got up and got ready.

Beige dress with gold accents.. I was happy in how I looked in it before so I wore it again, no overthinking.

I opened my little jewelry box.

I wore my Maraseel pin on my collar..

A توكل pin for reliance to hold the scarf..

Julia’s infinity ring to keep her with me..

And my double heart earrings.

Those earrings have a very special story.

They were mine when I was little.

I wore them in every childhood photo.

Years later, I asked my mom to find the same pair for Julia.

She described them to a jeweler in Lebanon.

He reached into a drawer

and pulled them right out.

The exact pair.

So I wore them again.

That day.

For me.

For little Farah.

The fearless version.

The one who hadn’t been bruised yet.

I cried quietly.

Let it out.

Released it all…

Actually cried a lot.

I messaged a few souls whose energy is clean, pure, and kind..

I asked for prayers.

And then out of nowhere:

Amanda messaged me.

You are our ancestors’ wildest dreams.

And I broke.

Because yes.

It was a dream for our ancestors

for one of their daughters

in hijab

to stand on a stage

in the heart of a city

in the far, far West

and say

We matter.

We are proud.

We are more than the number zero.

Zero cards.

Zero shelves.

Zero stories.

We are everything you can and cannot imagine..

We are Maraseel.. messages of Arab values, moments, and profound stories.. 

The Room, The Moment

Two hours later, I arrived.

Makeup done

eyeliner winged

Arab mama beast activated.

The reception hallway was stunning.

Qanun. Oud.

Displays of local businesses

Food that felt like home

Laughter

Joy

Support..

 

Dr. De’Janea Douglas and Amanda Sancen of the city; and their teams, did such a phenomenal job making sure everyone was well received and welcomed.. Mayor Hammoud was with us during rehearsals to tell us about his own stories pitching..

 

Everyone rooting for everyone.

When it was my turn to pitch, they had called me last.

So I held my breath until the end.

I walked on stage.

Held the room in my hands

and told the truth.

I forgot to mention one of our biggest news: that Maraseel is in its final stages of getting trademarked..

but I remembered to honor Mr. Ahmad Abadeh; whose son was able to show him love before he passed through our cards.

 

I shared our vision.

What the funding would mean.

And where we’re headed.

The Real Win

One hour into the event

Julia and my parents walked in.

To me.. that was when I finally won.

Seeing them in the audience along with my brother and all the friends; old and new, who came to cheer me on..

I felt full

I felt complete

No prize could compare.

They lined us up.

People’s Choice: ExpressLane Games

Third Place: ExpressLane again

Second Place: Maraseel

I was confused.

I didn’t expect it.

I thought I’d either take first

or take nothing.

But God’s plan isn’t always the one we wrote.

It’s the one He chose.

And it’s always better.

First place went to Dr. Anani

and it was deeply deserved.

As we stood there

I saw Marwa beside me

and I couldn’t let her leave empty-handed.

So I gave her my flowers.

Everyone clapped

but really it was the only choice.

You don’t leave the person who stood next to you, empty handed.

You honor her.

You thank her.

You do what good humans do.

And had it been Marwa; she would have done more, probably split the check with me too.

The End That Was Just the Beginning

The night ended with hugs.

With my parents on stage.

With my friends waiting outside

cheering me on.

With messages flooding in..

I feel seen

I feel heard

I feel proud to be Arab again

And I just kept thinking

This wasn’t about Farah.

It took

my clients

my community

my ancestors

the judges

the organizers

the friends who reached out

the mentors who guided

the hands behind the scenes

It took a whole city

to make that night happen.

It took the mural stitched into the walls of our childhood home in Sour

that read:

الله ولي التوفيق

God is the giver of success

And indeed..He is

 

This is the beginning of a new era at Maraseel I hope you join our community by following us here or supporting our business at MaraseelCards.com

If you are here for the stories that is cool too! we are here for it too.. browse the blog for a lot more of what you expect and what you won’t believe someone could say..

 

I love you all and I want to truly thank you for hopping on and joining this journey with me, I promise you to stay true to myself, my dreams, and to be .relentless in raising your voices, our voices - to the universe

 

Farah

(pour your heart in the comments)

A massive thank you to Karl Bake @KarlBake KarlBake.com for all the flawless pictures above (should be able to tell which ones are my personal ones :)) and for giving us permission to share and help shape this story along with @tejarasba and @arabamericanchamberofcommerce 

Thank you Katie Lauderbaugh for putting us on stage, giving us a voice, and making sure we’re visible.

 

If this story moved you, share it with someone who needs it.

And if you’re here for the stories, we’re here for you too.

Explore our collections or work with Farah 1-on-1 to tell yours.

Your voice matters.

We see you. We hear you.

We’re Maraseel: Home Away From Home.