Four fingers grip an empty cup. “Go back to your country, terrorist!” a stranger spits, tossing his beer on me as his eyes survey my Middle Eastern features in disgust.
Budweiser drips down my cheeks and onto my American flag T-shirt as cars race the Indy 500 track in circles on a hot summer day in 2013.
I blink. Four fingers settle on a dime edge of limestone. A crisp Wyoming breeze envelops me as I flex my hand toward a razor-thin crimp on Ministry of Magic (5.13a/b). I inhale, grounding myself in the moment. It’s September 11, 2023. Chalk floats in the air as my feet dance across limestone smears. The cool breeze brushes my face, and my focus sharpens on the powerful, delicate crux of my first 5.13.
Words by Shara Zaia, the full story is published in Volume 24 of The Climbing Zine, now available
Banner photo of the author by Zoe Rayor
I didn’t grow up climbing. My ancestors come from the ancient Assyrian Empire, which existed between 900 and 600 BCE. Located in the northern part of Mesopotamia, Assyria made up modern-day Syria, Iraq, Iran, and Turkey. During World War I, the Ottoman Empire began an ethnic cleansing of the Assyrian population. The genocide of my people resulted in a diaspora, a mass exodus of my ancestors from their homes. Born in Habbaniyah, Iraq, my parents escaped this persecution through education. Their extensive studies in pharmacy and neonatology brought them to Chicago, Illinois, where, in 1981, they joined a growing Assyrian population. After my oldest sister entered Team Zaia, my parents found jobs at the Cleveland Clinic, having my older brother and me in Ohio. My siblings and I grew up in the liminal space between two cultures: American and Assyrian.
Currently, the federal government categorizes Assyrians and other folks from the Middle East and North African (MENA) communities as “white.” However, “white” does not reflect my experience. Growing up as an Iraqi-American in Ohio, people asked me, “What are you? Where are you really from?”
After 9/11, things became sharp and derogatory. “Terrorist.” “Towelhead.” And then came the warning: “Go back to your country.”
To avoid Middle Eastern racism in a post-9/11 society, I fought to fit the Eurocentric mold and became vigilant about blending in. Avoiding assimilation felt like trying to stay dry while living in the ocean. I straightened my hair. I wore trendy clothes. I implored my parents to stop speaking to me in Surid, adding to the endangerment of my first language. I avoided anything that would highlight my difference. I tried to be “American.”
In early 2019, two friends invited me to a rock climbing gym in Denver, Colorado. In spring, they took me to Clear Creek Canyon in Golden, Colorado, for my first time on real rock. “You should lead it!”
They encouraged me. As I clipped each bolt, I channeled my father’s tribe, the Tyari, who are warriors known for bravery. That day, I flashed Steve’s Wild Turkey Day (5.7) at East Colfax. My mother’s tribe, the Qudshanis, are known to be stubborn, so I returned to the crag determined. The following day, I onsighted Mineral Museum (5.9) on the Crystal Tower.
As the pandemic tightened its grip in 2020, the climbing community pulled me in even closer, offering the connection I was craving. In September of that year, Menesha Mannapperuma and I created Cruxing in Color, a meetup for Denver-area climbers of color. Our first meetup in Mestizo-Curtis Park hosted seven folks in masks. Today, CIC is a 501(c)(3) that supports 5,000 members with gym membership scholarships, monthly meetups, access to free gear, and educational clinics.
“I’ve been climbing in Colorado for six years, but it wasn’t until Cruxing in Color that I actually felt like a real climber,” shared CIC attendee Sushia Rahimizadeh.
“The energy was completely different—no stares, just smiles, good conversation—and my blackness was never the center of attention. I’d never seen so many climbers of color in one space,” Sheyan Clark reflected after a meetup at Movement Climbing + Fitness.
The climbing community has historically been pretty homogenous. When you walk into the gym or show up at a crag, you quickly internalize what it means to look like and sound like a climber. Cruxing in Color challenges that norm.
Sade agreed, “I don’t fit the demographic of a typical Colorado climber at all. CIC meetups are an opportunity for me to boldly take up space in a traditionally white space, connect with some of the most supportive and encouraging people I’ve met, and feel a sense of belonging in a like-minded community.”
Through Cruxing in Color, I learned early on that there was much more to climbing than physical performance. Still, in a sport where grades are centered so strongly, it would be challenging to avoid.
That same year, climbing brought me to Ten Sleep, Wyoming. My last name, Zaia, is the name of the Assyrian patron saint of travel. I channeled the saint as I set off for Wyoming in my little red van, Habibi, the Arabic word for “my love.” I had planned a five-day climbing trip over summer break from my job as a preschool teacher in Green Valley Ranch, Colorado.
Five days turned into five weeks as the community at Valarie and Louie Anderson’s Rock Ranch drew me in. Over the summer in 2020, I sent my first 5.12—Wutang’s Wild Shinto Ride, a delicate vertical crimp route on streaks of blue rock. The next year, after finishing the 5.12s on the Shinto Wall, I moved over to the Grasshopper Wall, a similarly streaked section of blue stone next door. My friend Lena had just sent Dances with Cows (5.13a) and encouraged me to try it. It felt comical to imagine myself, a fairly new climber, on this wall. Still, I trusted Lena because she saw me in a way that I wasn’t able to see myself in quite yet. So I approached as experienced sport climbers cramped the small space under the ten 5.13 to 5.14 routes of the Grasshopper Wall. The air felt tense as everyone waited their turn to test their strength on small, sharp edges………
Score a copy of the printed version of Volume 24 to read the full story.
Shara found climbing in 2019 and has continuously challenged the community to move past outdated beliefs and ethics. Shara is based in Denver, Colorado, but you can find her traveling all over the country covered in dog hair and chalk. When she’s not levitating on delicate, techy rock, Shara works full time in the outdoor industry as Co-President of Cruxing in Color and as Programs Manager at American Alpine Club. Follow her on IG at @sharazaia or read more about her work at sharazaia.com.