The overwhelming majority of Arab Americans can envision a brighter future for themselves in the United States, according to a Washington Post-Schar School poll, even as two-thirds say they’re dissatisfied with the country’s direction.
At a time of deepening polarization and soaring expenses, those with ancestral ties across the Middle East and North Africa don’t sugarcoat the challenges they face.
Yet as a group, they lean strikingly optimistic: 78 percent say they have a good chance of improving their standard of living, compared with 40 percent of Americans overall.
“You can change the trajectory of your life here just by working hard,” said Sonia Alshami, 37, a real estate investor in California whose father moved to the United States from Yemen.
Two in three consider themselves a “typical American,” a higher share than others with roots elsewhere in the world. Almost 8 in 10 say being American is as important to their identity as their religion or ancestry.
About 3.5 million U.S. residents trace their roots to one of 22 Arab countries or places stretching from the Western Sahara to Oman, according to the Census Bureau. (Iran, a majority Persian country, was not included). The Post-Schar School poll used random sampling methods to reach 412 adults in that demographic, with most results focused on the 358 respondents who personally identified as Arabs.
Twenty-one percent reported having Palestinian heritage. Roughly another fifth said they had Egyptian ancestry, while a similar percentage said they hailed from Lebanese families. Smaller numbers had connections to Syria, Jordan and Morocco.
Surveys of this demographic are exceptionally rare. The Post-Schar School poll offers a nationally representative look at how Arab-Americans are feeling about the country and their place in it.
The Post contacted young parents, business owners and retirees across the political spectrum. A little more than half were immigrants, and 27 percent were second-generation.
Practically everyone was frustrated by rising costs at the grocery store and gas pump, they shared in follow-up interviews.
One in four reported they or a relative had struggled in the past two years with immigration issues, such as being questioned by airport security or having trouble entering or leaving the country.
Ahead of the midterm elections, some were disturbed by President Donald Trump blasting Abdul El-Sayed, an Egyptian American running for Senate in Michigan, as a “RADICAL Extremist.” Many, though, were pleased to see more Muslims running for office. Most said they felt comfortable expressing their opinions on politics and other sensitive topics.
Eighty-seven percent felt free to practice their religion. Almost half of respondents were Muslim, and almost a third were Christian. Yet 8 in 10 perceive “some” or “a lot” of prejudice against Arabs and Muslims in the U.S. — and most thought the same was true for Jews, Hispanics and Asians.
Alshami, a mother of two girls, said her father moved to Arizona from Yemen three decades ago in pursuit of the American Dream. He went from handpicking crops in the Yuma fields to starting what became her family’s trucking company.
“He assimilated quickly,” she said.
Now she sees herself as more American than anything else, she said, spending hours on the sidelines of her daughters’ T-ball and water polo games. A caucus chair for the Republican Party of Merced County, she worries that others take America’s freedoms for granted.
“Everything is what you make of it,” she said. “I try to stay positive.”
Majdi Sharif, 55, is more concerned. His cosmetics delivery service in northeastern New Jersey is booming, the Palestinian American said, but he’s spending more money than ever on the basics.
Three years ago, he paid $45 monthly for health insurance. Then federal subsidies expired, lifting that bill to $400. And don’t get him started on the conflict with Iran, which has nearly doubled his fuel expenditures.
“Trump came in saying, “America first!” said Sharif, who considers himself a political “free agent.” “And what did he do? He starts a war.”
Jennifer Woodward, 66, wanted to focus on the good things, such as the fact that she just bought her dream home in The Villages, a predominantly conservative retirement community in central Florida. She adores the private suite for her guests and the palm tree in her yard.
But the Pentagon had announced that it would live-stream an execution by firing squad. Before Trump scrapped those plans Wednesday, she worried about her grandchildren watching.
“It’s just barbaric,” she said.
Her grandfather moved to Ohio from Syria in search of a better life. America was supposed to be the “shining city upon the hill,” an example for the world. But the president was using language she found racist.
“We’ve gotten so far off track,” she said.
Ahmad Addelhalim, 34, has been thinking about punching someone. Preferably the guy who shouted “Arab!” last month at his wife, who covers her hair with a hijab.
She’d been out walking with their 4-year-old son in a Chicago suburb. The outburst reminded him of what his mom endured in the tense years after the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001.
“Now that I’m old enough to do something about it, if I go to jail, so be it,” said Addelhalim, a Palestinian American baggage handler at Chicago’s Midway International Airport.
He injured his shoulder recently while lifting a stroller at work, so he’s stuck at home, scrolling through too many videos that make him angry, including some about all the money the U.S. sends to Israel. Over the past three years, he pointed out, more than 20,000 children have been killed in Gaza.
Still, he flies an American flag next to his Palestinian flag.
“As much bad as there is in this country, there is a lot of good,” he said. Such as his neighbors, he said, who are Black and Mexican American and Polish American. They’ve been bringing him meals as he awaits surgery.
“They give me hope,” he said.
Randa Kayyali, 56, an educator and author in Sarasota, Fla., has dedicated much of her career to understanding the Arab American experience.
That will get harder, she said, if the Trump administration follows through on its proposal to cut race and ethnicity questions from the 2030 census.
We should endeavor to know more about each other, said the Palestinian American, who was born in Lebanon. Such as why those with Arab heritage, more so than the general public, remain optimistic about their futures.
Kayyali unearthed a theory from her own life. The self-described “single-issue voter” is enraged by the U.S. government’s lack of support for the Palestine cause. But she has signed up to work the midterm polls in November, asserting she wants to help everyone vote, no matter their political views.
She attributes her simultaneous capacity for despair and hope to sumud, Arabic for “steadfastness.”
“It’s the idea that you stand firm, ride out the bad times and enjoy the good times,” she said.
The Washington Post-Schar School poll was conducted Aug. 20-Sept. 7, 2026 among a national sample of 412 U.S. adults with ancestry from predominantly Arab countries and 358 respondents who identify as Arab. Results among Arab Americans have a margin of sampling error of plus or minus 6.7 percentage points.
Alauna Safarpour, assistant professor of political science at Gettysburg College, contributed to this report.
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