Muslim in America: Defining an Identity

This post is by guest contributor INAL, a mixed-heritage Muslimah in America. INAL is the writer behind the blog Shadjar Al Noor . . . Really?. Her article was originally published under the title “Who are We Really as Muslims in America, Really?” on her blog and is republished here with the author’s permission. To see the original post, click this link.

Some have given what others never considered possible.

This afternoon as I was walking down the block away from my apartment building I started looking- really looking at the people that would come my way. I normally don’t do that…I just go where I have to and I leave the “Fashion” police to someone else.

But what struck me was that every one person was different from the next. Oh sure, some shared a language, a culture, a dress code (even our teenagers have their particulars)- but really no shared commonality other than living in the same area. Here in NY who people are, how they act changes from block to block; from uptown to downtown- east and west side.

I can go to the upper West-side and feel all the Dominican come right at me- the language, the music, the clothes women wear; the clothes men wear- the types of shops and the restaurants- fast food or sit down- with some of them having the “Bellonera” or jukebox blasting the latest merengue or bachata. And for a quick moment I can identify with them because they are a part of my culture- but then I remember I have hijab on- and that immediately sets me apart. Some shops who have Spanish speaking Lebanese or Jordanian will Salaam me as I pass and I greet them warmly…they get few chances to encounter another Muslim in their daily work up in “Dominican City”.

Soho is a totally different world…you have the chic boutiques and cafes; the run down book stores every one loves to come into and just sit and read- or the posh stores like Dean and Deluca or the skateboard & snowboard stores my youngest daughter loves to shop in because they also sell the kind of clothes she wears. Here its white city- and by that I mean most who live in the renovated lofts and buildings of Pre WWI and WWII are upper middle class white. It is also close to NYU and you’ll see tons of students hanging about- doing what they do when not burning the midnight oil. There again once in a while you will see a hijab- maybe a student- maybe a vendor- or a sight-seer. But rarely in a large enough group- so when I go buy something I need I get the looks, sometimes the smiles of good morning- sometimes the looks of hatred…

When we sign up our children’s life….

I remember in one of those non-credit courses I love to take at NYU a very “red neck” ex-marine sat through one of our lectures on  Afghanistan; taught by a professor who has been going there on and off for the past thirty years and a journalist by profession. This “student” was an angry man an ex-marine (considering what my son has told me about that particular branch of the service -at times I don’t blame them)-but he felt that the Muslims in the class couldn’t identify with blood and gut mentality and that while some came from war torn countries- those of us “Lily White” couldn’t comprehend his view of giving your life for your country- And he asked me point blank since he knew I had been born in America if I had done anything for my country as a Muslim? I said yes- I had signed off my only son’s life to the US government’s Navy. That when it came to sacrifices that one was a good one- had he given up his only Son’s life for “the cause”? No- he had not…the man never bothered me again.

The professor was overjoyed when we would sit after class, those of us who were Muslims and sort of have a second class with him where he learned from us- as we were all as different as night and day. He learned of the things no one really knows about Muslims- their personal lives- the lives they lead in their homes; their personal thoughts and opinions…We would talk about what it was like in Turkey, in Afghanistan, India, Lebanon, Jordan and other places.  We would bring family photos for him to look at and it enriched his life he said in ways journalism had not- because as much as he had been staying in Afghanistan he only knew some of the men; and only in certain situations. The last question he asked us was “Who are you really- as Muslims in America?”

One young guy from Lebanese parents said, “I don’t speak for anyone, but I’m just an American who happens to be Muslim is all.”

And I have to agree, I don’t have a country that is my one and only home to go back to…this is it. America is my home. Yes, Jordan and Spain and even Yemen are my ancestral homes in my heart. Yemen because it is the homeland of the man I adore; Jordan is because half of my genes comes from there and my brothers now all live there with their families…and Spain because technically that is where my mom’s family came from as Moorish as they are.

The first, second generations, even the third generation Muslim families that have another ancestral home sometimes mystify their homeland, because it helps, especially for the first generation, to cope with living in the States- others because it is their subliminal message to their offspring to keep them attached to their traditions, culture and religion. To others, only Allah knows why they say what they say, and do what they do…it is what it is.

We are threaded to one another in a fabric called Islam by the faith and its precepts we may follow completely, partially or not at all…But many of us are also American born and bred here; we don’t have those threads that bind us more tightly to particular ideas, traditions and culture…I will not, nor ever will speak for another Muslim and be their spokesperson- because we are as diverse as the drops of rain that come down on a rainy day…we just have to understand that some of us will be standing in the middle of the umbrella; some of us on its edges; and others will just stand in the rain and let it pour on them…

That to me is Islam and who we are.

Late Comment on Hijaab

I just came back from a community cinema event in Philadelphia for an independent film called “Arusi Persian Wedding” directed by Marjan Tehrani. It’s a really beautiful film that follows an Iranian-American and his American wife who travel to Iran and have a traditional Persian wedding. I was not only in awe of how incredibly beautiful Iran is, but also at how I found myself relating to it. The Iranian-American expresses his pride for his Iranian roots, but also feels a distance because of his inability to fully understand the culture and language. It reminded me about how I sometimes struggle with finding my ethnic identity, no matter how much I’m proud of it.

After the screening, there was a guest panel that led an interesting discussion about the film and then took questions from the audience. My friend got a chance to chime in with a great question, while I decided to sit back and listen. I didn’t feel like I had much to contribute to the conversation since the event seemed to aim at breaking stereotypes about Iran, its people, and its culture. Although one of the panelists spoke very highly of her experience as a White woman in Iran, she admitted that “initially, I was frightened, as a feminist, when I learned I had to wear the veil…”

When I got home tonight, her words replayed in my mind over and over again. I really should have gotten up and said something, even though I just wanted to make a small comment. I think I’ll e-mail her after I write this, but what I wanted to point out is that it’s very important for us to not make an association between oppression and the hijaab, or veil. Her comment seemed to implicate that someone who wears the hijaab could not also be a feminist (I would have asked her to correct me if I was wrong). I’m sure this is not what she meant, but I believe it would have been important for one of the panelists to mention that forcing someone to dress a certain way is very different from someone choosing to dress a certain way. There are plenty of Muslim women in other parts of the world, especially in the West, who wear hijaab by choice; therefore it would be very inaccurate to say that Muslim women who wear hijaab cannot be feminists. I’m glad one of the Iranian panelists said that Iranian women still drive, work, and go to school, contrary to the stereotypes and misconceptions that they’re “so oppressed.”

The other thing I should have commented on was on their usage of the word “Islam” whenever discussing the “Islamic Revolution” in 1979 and the current “Islamic Laws.” The Qur’an clearly states that religion cannot be imposed on people. Doesn’t Allah teach us to use our logic and reasoning? What is so logical about forcing someone to believe a certain way? The true spiritual essence and beauty gets lost when someone is being forced to practice a religion. Spirituality and Faith is personal; it must be felt within. Reciting the Shahada (Islamic declaration of Faith) is simple, while believing in it is something deeper and entirely different altogether.

Later, someone asked a question about whether or not these were the dress codes for Muslim women in all Islamic countries, and one of two Iranian panelists said, “I’m not sure, but I would say ‘yes,’ they are universal.” A friend and I spoke about this later after the discussion and both agreed that we felt a strong anti-Islam vibe from her. I was glad that the other Iranian panelist jumped in and explained that these are not universal dress codes in Islamic countries since most Muslim countries don’t force women to wear hijaab or the burqah.

Anyway, my main point is that the hijaab should not be associated with oppression, and Muslim women who wear it shouldn’t be so quickly judged. Just because some feminists are not familiar with certain manners of dress doesn’t mean that it’s not compatible with feminism. I think it’s important for feminists to understand that feminist thought is very diverse rather than being limited to one group of people, one culture, and one skin color.

Know Your Islam: Speak Out Against Domestic Violence

Before I discuss the recent brutal beheading of Aasiya Zubair, a Muslim-American mother of four, I would like to stress on something that is very important and close to my heart: The majority of Muslims should never apologize or be held accountable for the atrocious actions of others who happen to self-identify as Muslim. The murder of Aasiya Zubair could have happened to anyone, of any religious and/or ethnic group, and the actions of her murderer, Muzzammil Hassan, should never be associated with Islam. Anyone who studies Islam honestly will understand that Mr. Hassan’s actions clearly violated Islamic teachings, therefore the last thing that anyone should call this murder is “Islamic.” It’s very frustrating when I read the ignorant comments posted under articles around the blogosphere — comments like, “Violence against women is considered a religious and cultural duty in the [Muslim] Ummah; don’t try to deny it,” or “Until we in the west see better behavior and adherence to accepted social values from Muslims, I guess we remain to be convinced.” Such ignorance doesn’t help our efforts at all; instead it makes things more difficult. If there weren’t so many ignorant Islamophobes attacking Islam and blaming Muslims for not displaying “accepted social values,” then I wouldn’t have written this paragraph in the first place.

In any case, Muslims must speak out against this horrendous crime not because we’re responsible or should apologize for it, but because this kind of behavior cannot, should not, and will not be tolerated in our community. We, as Muslims, need to turn inward and acknowledge the problems within our communities. It was comforting to see such an immediate reaction from Muslim organizations to call for swift action against domestic violence. As cited by Wajahat Ali, Imam Mohamed Hagmagid Ali, Vice-President of The Islamic Society of North America, wrote a public response:

Our community needs to take a strong stand against abusive spouses…This is a wake up call to all of us, that violence against women is real and can not be ignored. It must be addressed collectively by every member of our community.

As some will argue, this murder was due to “culture,” but what’s problematic about saying this is that the definition of culture gets limited to barbarism and backwardness. In actuality, culture cannot be fixated to these stereotypes because it is, in fact, diverse, flexible, and adaptable. This is not to deny the incredible amount of misogyny that is present in certain Muslim societies, it’s simply to put the true meaning of culture into perspective. To blame a culture for something like Aasiya Zubair’s murder would be impossible without asking: Which culture? Pakistani culture? Okay, what is Pakistani culture? There is no one and singular form of culture because culture is reactive to stimuli. It gets shaped and reshaped, so the problem is not culture itself, but rather how we shape culture. A culture influenced heavily by the mystical traditions of Islam, for example, may differ immensely from a culture influenced heavily by Wahabism in terms of gender issues. Or perhaps there is no religious stimuli and the culture is more secular than anything else. Anyway, my point here is that we need to understand the diversity of culture instead of easily pointing our fingers at it.

But the reality is that there are cultures that have been shaped to be more sexist and misogynistic than others. In respect to the Muslim community, these issues need to addressed because our Way of Life, Islam, strictly condemns this kind of behavior. I do not intend to speak of Islam in a limited sense; on the contrary, when I speak about Islam, I am also speaking about our God-given human rights and how every human being, regardless of their gender, race, culture, religion, sexual orientation, etc. deserves to enjoy their humanity. As the Qur’an says repeatedly, Allah’s grace is Infinite. He is All-Embracing, All-Forgiving; Most Merciful, Most Compassionate. The Qur’an is clear about gender equality, and even historically, the revelations abolished primitive practices like female infanticide and abuse towards women. Many may say they’re frustrated with the Muslim community because the lessons of compassion, gender equality, and Love are right there in front of us, but people also need to understand something else, which is often overlooked: Not everyone who self-identifies as a Muslim is a practicing Muslim. And not every practicing Muslim is a “perfect Muslim.” Sorry to disappoint the Islamophobes, but there is no such things as a perfect human being, let alone a perfect Muslim. A Muslim, just like everyone else, is not immune to sexism, misogyny, anger, hatred, violence, and murder. Did Mr. Hassan self-identify as Muslim? Yes. Did he speak out against Islamophobia through Bridges TV, a television network he co-founded? Yes. Did his murder reflect Islamic teachings. No.

Someone on “Yahoo” asked the question: “What does this murder say about Muslims?” And in my response, I said: This atrocious crime does not say anything about Muslims. To generalize about an entire group of people is not only inaccurate, but it is also a very uneducated thing to say. When we hear stories about a Texas mother drowning her own children, her religion is never blamed or even mentioned. Whenever Muslims commit crimes and murder, on the other hand, it is unanimously assumed that it was because of their religion.

Islam prohibits the killing of other human beings. Even during war, which is strictly permitted in self-defense, the Qur’an prohibits the killing of innocent people.

[5:32] … we decreed for the Children of Israel that anyone who murders any person who had not committed murder or caused corruption in the land, it shall be as if he murdered all the people. And anyone who saves a life, it shall be as if he saved the lives of all the people. Our messengers went to them with clear proofs and revelations, but most of them, after all this, are still transgressing.

As the Hadith (sayings of the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him) say:

A wife of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said: (The Prophet) never hit anyone with his hand, neither a woman nor a servant.” (Sahih Muslim, Hadith 1082)

The Prophet said: “The most perfect Muslim in the matter of faith is someone who has excellent behavior; and the best among you are those who behave best toward their wives.” (Al-Tirmidhi, Hadith 106)

These are the kind of teachings that we need to re-emphasize on in our communities . We also need to open our doors a little more and understand what it truly means to be a community. For too long do we push people out of the Mosques and Islamic conventions without even realizing it. Should any issue of domestic violence arise, Muslims should feel comfortable and secure about reporting these incidents instead of worrying about being stigmatized. Insha’Allah, as Muslims across North America address this issue, I hope it remains persistent and creates new opportunities to prevent things like this from happening again. I also hope that certain non-Muslim groups realize that such violence exists everywhere and, contrary to what some say, is not and never has been considered a “cultural and religious duty” for Muslims.

May Allah bless Aasiya Zubair’s soul and grant her justice and peace. Ameen.

First Muslim Female State Representative Elected to the Michigan State Legislature

By DAVID N. GOODMAN

DETROIT — Michigan is getting its first female Muslim legislator, thanks in large part to her Jewish boss, the incumbent.

Rashida Tlaib, a lawyer, community activist and daughter of Palestinian immigrants, easily won a House seat in Tuesday’s general election after emerging from an eight-way Democratic primary with 44 percent of the vote in August.

Tlaib, 32, said she wouldn’t have run but for the repeated urging of Democratic state Rep. Steve Tobocman, who is stepping down because of term limits. Once she decided to run, she threw herself into it, knocking on 8,000 doors and hitting each household twice.

Southeastern Michigan has about 300,000 people with roots in the Arab world, but few of them live in Tlaib’s largely black and Hispanic district in southwest Detroit.

“We view her victory as a sign that Michigan Muslims are welcomed as a part of our state’s multi-faith and multiethnic society,” said Dawud Walid, Michigan director of the Council on American-Islamic Relations.

According to the American Muslim Alliance, only nine Muslims were serving in state legislatures nationwide before Tuesday’s elections, and only one of them is a woman. There are two Muslim members of Congress - Democrats Keith Ellison of Minnesota and Andre Carson of Indiana.

The Michigan Legislature’s first known Muslim member, James Karoub, served three terms in the state House in the 1960s.

Tobocman said he first met Tlaib about five years ago when she was working for the Arab Community Center for Economic and Social Services, where she did advocacy work for immigrants.

“I was just really, really impressed,” he said. When he later became majority floor leader and got another staff slot, he recruited Tlaib for the job. He said she brings a passion for social justice and the ability to work with people across the political aisle with very different outlooks.

“She’s someone who just intuitively understood the process right off the bat,” Tobocman said.

The election was only one of many firsts for Tlaib. The eldest of 14 children of a retired Ford Motor Co. worker and his wife, she was the first in her family to earn a high school diploma. She went on to finish college and law school while helping raise 13 siblings.

“My parents … are amazing Americans,” she said. “They never thought this would ever happen.”

What President Obama Means to this Muslim Mama

“a letter to my sons on the eve of a nation’s great change”

November 5, 2008

My Dear Sons,

If I can indicate to you the significance of Barack Obama’s election as President of the United States of America in even the smallest way, I will have succeeded with this letter. You’ve seen that I’ve spent much of this day in silence and tears. Most likely you won’t remember, but if you do, forgive my silence. I don’t know what to say. There is a great wheel of thought turning in my head. The ideas fly past before I can grasp them, to take a moment and investigate what it is I’m feeling; to grapple with the full import of what has happened in our great country. As for the tears, they are tears of joy. Never stem tears of happiness. They are like the rain that replenishes the earth.

I admit that with the curious circumstances surrounding President George W. Bush’s election into office in 2000, I lost faith in the effectiveness of U.S. democracy. In 2004, there was a repeat of 2000’s debacle, and with W’s claims of “political capital” at his fingertips, it seemed to me that our democracy may have crumbled. Hope was a match in my fingertips, it’s flame whipped out by a quick wind. But today, my beautiful and wonderful boys, my faith in our country has been restored. I once again believe that my voice, a voice that generations before me fought to assign a value to, has not only been heard and valued, it has become tenable twice over. My voice is not only that of a woman, it is that of a woman of color.

I’m certain you will grow up with the knowledge of your own ethnic roots if in no other capacity than in relation to your faith. What speaks to my heart today is that you may not struggle to find your own place in society the way I did for much of my life. The adversity I (and the rest of your extended family) faced during my years in Oklahoma,Texas and Arkansas may be something forever foreign to you. In those pre-9/11 days, there was certainly undisguised hatred for us as Muslims, but the main disgust we encountered was race-based. Years of hatred culminated, for us, in repudiation based on the darker tones of our skin in a White, Presbyterian-dominated area. Last night, around 11PM, it became clear to me that there is a chance you may grow up without facing, witnessing or being pressured to take part in this type of adversity. While this hope is certainly incredible in its scope, and perhaps unfounded, there are reasons that my heart is opened to your freedom from racial stigma.

Certainly, Obama’s election would not have happened at this time in America’s life if not for the many incredible failures of George W. Bush as America’s 43rd president. Had Bush not abused his position of power by pursuing war on unfounded reasons and overspending the “political capital” he claimed to have earned, America could not have reached a point of such openness to and even desire for change. I am greatly aware of Obama’s weaknesses as a candidate for this office. The polarity of the campaign period shed light on the many failings of each candidate searching for nomination, but I believe Obama was the best of the lot we were granted despite his lack of experience in governance, and it is my hope that he will be a capable leader–one who continues on in the traditions of his campaign; to stay focused on the issues and to work for an America truly united by refusing to engage the propaganda and slander of naysayers and ne’er-do-wells.

You were both born into a time of misunderstanding with regards to Islam. After my move to Indiana from Arkansas, I saw the race-driven hatred fall away to be replaced with a subversive reinforcement of anti-Islam sentiment. In high school, I did not yet know myself as a Muslim. That identity had always been secondary. I’m sure the discrimination I faced based on my skin color aided me in defining myself as “Other” when it came to race. With our move from Arkansas to Indiana, I saw that fade away. Instead of being characterized as Arab and Muslim by default, I was characterized as Muslim and Arab by default. Looking back, I can say the consequences of this inversion was an increased interest in faith. With your father by my side, I clung to my new Muslim identity to find that it came with its own challenges.

Yes, there was harassment, but I was not generally subjected to it. I had female friends whose faith was visible due to the cloth on their heads. They were treated with derision. “Is there a bomb in your backpack?” was a question one of my friends regularly faced as she tried to pass through a particular hallway on her way to class. A group of boys, three or four of them, would yank her bag, tug her scarf, stand in her way or simply stare her down. It hurt her, but she kept walking. For many of us at that time, there was no recourse for the overt and sometimes physical aggression we experienced in places that should have been safe. This was pre-9/11.

I will say one thing for the horrid events of September 11, 2001. Had they not happened, we as Americans would not have had the chance to plumb the depths of the hatred for and fear of the “other” that we hide within. Before 9/11, harassment was tolerated, allowed to happen with merely the shake of a head or a click of the tongue. “What a shame,” we subjects of discrimination were told. “Some people just don’t understand.” We were then laden with the responsibility to understand for them, to forgive them for their ignorance. We were expected not to educate.

9/11 ended the “do nothing” period for Muslims in America and around the world. Suddenly, we were targets due to the crimes of those who perpetuated terror in the name of our faith. Our majority was forced to stand up and shout until we were blue in the face that we do not tolerate, accept or condone this type of violence. That we, the Muslim masses, believe in democracy, in the freedom of religion the Constitution promises.

We could no longer sit idly by. Our friends and family were being whisked away to detention centers, fathers and mothers and sisters and brothers detained, tortured, murdered in response to the acts of unilateral thinkers whose views we did not share. We had to speak up, to claim in voices rough with tears that we are people too. Like those minorities before us, we will not be denied our civil rights in a country we love because of its promised equality. Perhaps the writers of the Constitution were not so forward thinking when they promised freedom of religion–perhaps it only applied to those who worship in churches–but we would not let our mosques be riddled with bullets or burned to the ground.

My precious boys, neither of you is old enough to understand why the tears keep falling from my eyes yet I cannot stop smiling. My silent treatment of you will likely be forgiven by its omission from your memories. I am writing this because I want you to understand the incredible blessings of the world you have been born into. There is adversity at every corner, but with adversity comes hope. Barack Obama’s election proves this. He is a man of color elected as president in a country built from the blood of minorities. He is not a Muslim. He did not make a strong standing for Muslims in his campaign, but unlike his contemporaries, he has not incited hatred against us, derided us for our beliefs or used our differences of faith as cause to exclude us from our rightful category of American.

Here is what Obama’s election means to me: Yes, you will still grow up in a minority. You, like all humans, will face challenges day by day. But you are starting your lives in a world much different than that one I grew up in–in a world that has wildly changed. It may be that you will have more doors open to you based on your diversity. You are starting your lives in an America embracing a new reflection in the world’s mirror. I hope you help to keep that reflection crisp and clean. I hope your journey toward self-identification is filled with opportunity. You are the newest generation of American Muslims. Today I am able to believe that perhaps once another half a century has passed, you will be leaders for this great country. Perhaps, now that we are moving past race-based limitations, faith-based limitations will also begin to fail. Perhaps, one day, you will inspire hope for those both like and unlike you, your heads held high, your voices lifted as you say it: Yes we can.

I pray that you’ll find these words some day and that they will illuminate a history that seems to you fashioned of fiction. May you grow up knowing only the equality our constitution promises and the beauty of democracy at its best. May you grow up free from the hate that has plagued this country for far too long. May you grow up free. May you grow up Muslim Americans.

All my love,

Your Mother

A personal experience with hatred of Islam

This is an old post I’ve pulled out of the Islam on My Side archives, originally posted with the title “Give Me an Unbigoted Break.” It’s a bit more personal than I’ve been inclined to post on this blog, but as personal essays come in from contributors (deadline August 1st, so get to it!), I feel inclined to share a bit of my own experience–the roots of this blog and anthology, if you will.

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As I thumbed my way through some favorite blogs this morning, I was inspired to touch on a hot topic in the Muslim blogosphere: bigotry. Islamo-Facism Week has encouraged the debasement of Islamic ideals stemming from a bigoted hardline against Muslims. I’ve grown used to being lumped into unfriendly categories. It often happens by friendly people who are misinformed by Horowitz-like others or simply ignorant to world affairs. I’m often tolerant of said lumping.

I spent six years in Oklahoma, three years in Texas, and another six years in Arkansas prior to the eleven I’ve spent in Indiana. For those of you trying to do the math, that makes me twenty-six years old. When I lived in Arkansas, I was the object of some pretty serious hate. My family was the only Muslim family in the tiny town we lived in. I started there in fifth grade. I remember my first day of school clearly. I’d changed schools a number of times as my dad moved up in the job world. I’d gotten pretty good at identifying who the kids I wanted to get in with were from day one. I was thrilled when one of the girls disengaged herself from the medium-popularity clique and offered to be my tour-guide. She never got to guide me though. I was handed off before that first period ended to a girl with wildly red hair who was clearly not as well-to-do or well-looked upon. This girl became my best friend for several years, mostly due to her honesty when I asked her why the other girl had ditched me.

She nodded when she said it, “The teacher says you’re part of a cult.”

It took awhile for the implications of this to sink in. My fifth-grade homeroom/English teacher had discouraged another student from being my handler because she somehow knew my family was Muslim. Or maybe it was because I entered the classroom with a wicked tan, the same type of tan my younger sister sported when we were on the local swim team and another teacher’s daughter came up to her and asked, “Do you take pills to be Black?” or something like that.

Interestingly enough, the Black members of this town were made welcome, and barriers were broken down to give them at least marginal acceptance because they were churchgoers, and perhaps more importantly, they were really good at basketball (or football, or track) and those were this Bible-belt town’s lifeline.

Anyway, I spent the rest of this day following that brave red-head–she’d shrugged off the cult thing–around the school trying not to cry. Give me a break. I was an eleven year old girl clearly being shunned by peers who shifted away and whispered when I walked past. I was the object of a lot of pointing and narrowed eyes. It turns out that my younger sister did better because she was only seven, and the community believed she could still be saved from our heathen household.

I’d like to say that this kind of behavior was temporary, that people opened their eyes and hearts to my family and accepted us. We kept to ourselves. We didn’t make a big thing out of our difference of faith. We never criticized what the other members of our community believed. But the truth is, while some of the kids I attended classes with and was teammates with for volleyball, basketball, track, or swimming did relax a little around me, it was extremely rare that I got an invite to do anything other than attend youth group or go to church, both of which I did because I would take what I could get. I was even saved under a big tent one summer. Afterward, one mom welcomed me into her life, promising to give me a Bible (which I was thrilled at the prospect of even though I already owned one and had read it). But her interest in me came to screeching halt when she said she’d pick me up for church every Sunday. By this time, my parents had decided they no longer wanted to humor the efforts of these families to try and convert me–not because they were afraid I would convert, but because it was a blatant and hateful attack on our beliefs and their parenting. I was confused by the offer of a ride to church. “I’m not going to church,” I said.

The woman looked at me, as confused as I was. “But you were just saved.”

“Yeah, but I’m a Muslim.” It hadn’t occurred to me that saving wouldn’t work if I was constantly correcting the our “Lord Jesus” to our Prophet Jesus in my head, or if I prayed just to God instead of “Lord Jesus God.” I was truly repentant. I wanted my sins forgiven.

She ushered her daughters and husband away from me, looking back once over her shoulder with those eyes that said, “Well, I can’t believe it! What in the world!” Her older daughter later told me she’d pray for my soul that I could accept Jesus Christ and go to heaven with her. I can’t tell you how many times I heard “But we want to be surrounded by all our friends in Heaven” from girls who otherwise wouldn’t talk to me.

During these years, my family was party to pleas for my sisters and I to attend church. When that stopped happening, and after the whole “saved” event, the ugliness that initiated my unwelcome in Arkansas became less underhanded and more aggressive. My older sister’s instructors repeatedly tried to evict her from the school system. She was sassy, but not a bad student, like many teens in the town. Yet her teachers argued with her and went over and above to find fault with her. My younger sister was stood up two years in a row at birthday parties. Each year, a popular girl would schedule a party at the same time and invite the same people. (One girl did show up for a few minutes and give my sister a present, and I still love that girl for it.) I was an “A” student, good at sports, and quiet to boot, but I was regularly ostracized. I remember being greeted by my peers with ethnic epithets that often had nothing to do with my heritage, and were even more hurtful because of it. One lunch, one of my classmates attempted to strangle me. (Another jumped in and stopped him, thank God, but I still had to go to the hospital.) Despite witnesses, bruising on my neck, and other violent transgressions by the same kid, my parents had to threaten to sue to get him suspended. My father, as he had for years, received death threats and threatening phone calls.

There were ups mingled in these downs. My History teachers often called on me to correct the definition of Islam in our History books. The books read: Muslims, or Mohammedans, worship Mohammed who wrote the Koran. I was allowed to say, “Muslims worship God,” and it was often added that our god’s name is Allah. Sometimes I was allowed to illuminate the main difference between Christianity and Islam; “Muslims do not believe Jesus was God or the son of God. Jesus was a man and a prophet.” Then I was left to answer questions about how that was possible and whether or not Jesus died on the cross.

Another instructor invited my dad to come and speak to our class when it was discovered that he was an immigrant and again after we watched Not Without My Daughter. My dad told stories of his days as a boy scout in Lebanon (which incidentally inspired a boy scout story in my thesis collection). It helped a lot that my dad is a natural storyteller, he included fart jokes, and he was really funny. Never been prouder. My dad has a way of making Arab Muslim men seem human in a way I wish the rest of the world could take note of.

Those years in the Bible-belt were infused with an intolerance I thought I’d left behind when we moved to Indiana. Midwesterners were much less bent out of shape by my father’s non-White appearance. No one took much notice that we were Muslim. In fact, I was able to start an MSU at my high school with barely any trouble, and only a couple of my friends were regularly asked if they had bombs in their backpacks.

But then there was 9/11, attacks on women in hijab on the IU campus where I was attending, the Patriot Acts, a news story on how some member of our community was part of a sleeper cell and an implication that my husband was tied to this guy (who we never met), my local mosque being defaced, fire-bombed, another known attempt at defacement, and the constant awareness that wherever I go, my face gives me away as “one of those Arabs” and someone might make a hateful assumption, like those perpetrating Islamo-Facism Week, that I am someone less than worthy or some kind of victim that needs to be saved according to their rules.

The only help I need is a hand in the dissemination of this information: There’s no switch to be flipped. I choose to believe in Islam and live my life as a Muslim. I am not repressed, not angry, not violent. I am a woman, a mom, and a writer. I am a Muslim living life day to day.

Breaking the Veils

I came across this article on Yahoo today. I was very interested to see Muslim women combating the stereotypes associated with Islam (especially post-9/11) by creating a demonstration of intelligence through art.

After September 11th, there was a lot of talk about women in Islam and how repressed they are. We assembled this collection for tour in the United States and Europe with the hope of breaking the stereotypes of women in Islam, and to show the output of gifted women artists – Muslims, Christians, Buddhists and Hindu – who live within Islamic civilization and contribute to that cultural heritage of this region.

Please go here for some looks at artwork and more on this display.

Obama’s Volunteers Shun Muslims from Television Audience

The Muslim blogosphere is abuzz about Obama’s latest campaign snafu.

This post first appeared on Global Intifada and was republished in full with blogger Jinn Zaman’s permission. Please read on for his take on political response to Islam. And to read about how Ali Eteraz considers this a non-story (and to see a photo of Obama with a Muslimah), click here. Please chime in with your own thoughts on this issue in our comments section.

Muslim Barack Obama Fans Told to Hide from Television Cameras

So apparently, some Hijabis were sitting in special seats at Obama’s Detroit rally and one of them was asked to sit somewhere else and another was asked to take her headscarf off. Now, the underlying reason is probably because these volunteers didn’t want Obama to be associated with “Islam” again, but it behooves the American Muslim community to apply pressure on Obama to strongly condemn these actions. While fear of Islam and Muslims may be justifiable due to the war on terror, fear of Muslim elites who are integrated into mainstream American society is inappropriate.

Many people constantly decry the Muslim community from “failing to integrate” and for allegedly being “insular” and not adhering to Western values, but here we have two sisters who represent the best of their communities and are fully integrated into mainstream American democratic culture. These two sisters, whether they recognize it or not, are symbols of the success of the American Muslim community and those symbols need to be presented in the media, not castigated or denuded.

My suggestion is to contact the Obama campaign and let them know that you’d like a clear statement from the Senator on this occurrence with the reassurance that it won’t happen again.

Here’s a sample response:

To Whom It May Concern:

Dear Sir or Madame,

I came across a disturbing news report from the Telegraph today that reported that two Muslim women were barred from sitting behind Senator Obama at a rally on in Detroit on Monday. While I understand that he is constantly being attacked by being associated with Islam or Muslims, this doesn’t justify preventing mainstream American Muslims from being associated with his campaign. I would like to see an statement from the Senator himself regarding this issue to make it absolutely clear that he will not tolerate Islamophobia from anyone - whether it is from fear-mongerers or people within his own campaign.

Sincerely,

Can’t Be Seen with Muslims

It turns out that the man many Muslims in America have come to see as the greatest hope for change in an islamophobic climate perpetuates Islamophobia in his campaign. Via Organic Muslimah’s blog, I came across this story of how Obama’s campaign volunteers are actively removing Muslimah’s wearing headscarves from photo ops with the presidential candidate. In one instance, the reason given was that of an intolerant political climate. In another, people just weren’t allowed to be in the photo with something on their heads.

Would a man with a yarmulke receive the same treatment? Actually, this article says no. Visibly Jewish men haven’t been discriminated against in photo ops. So why are visual representatives of Islam barred from appearing? If there is a poor climate, that’s something Obama should work to change instead of passively supporting. Yes, we’ve all heard his denials that he is Muslim. Shouldn’t that be enough?

Ultimately, I think Obama being adamantly non-Muslim is not enough for many fearful and ignorant American citizens. Americans in the last years have been fed such and enormous pack of lies about Islam and Muslims (we are all brown, we hate freedom, we all believe that violence is the answer, etc.) that Obama has a much bigger fight than he can take on during the election period. Once he’s elected, he has four years insha’Allah to change the political climate that now excludes Muslims as acceptable supporters. Even with the apology he’s issued for the anti-Muslim sentiment, I don’t know what to think about where he stands on Muslims in America. In my opinion, he’s still a much better candidate than John McCain.

Still, I wish that the voting public could be a bit more open-minded. I mean, finally we have a non-White candidate, but we can’t expand our minds enough to handle the sight of a hijabi sitting behind him? Why is support from Muslims such a bad thing? It seems to be that if Muslims like Obama, it makes it less likely that Muslims will be angry at America. (Note: I do not believe that Muslims hate America or freedom or that 9/11 happened for any of the reasons we have been given. For another reason, follow this link provided by Broken Mystic in his comments on the last post.)

Believe it Or Not, We Are Just Human

This post was originally published on Unique Muslimah. Unique Muslimah writes from the wild West with frequent trips around the world. Her blog exposes the delights, flashbacks and somber experiences that adds a little spice to who she is today: 100% unique, no added salt. Thank you, Unique for reprinting permissions.

It’s expected that some Muslim faith schools are to add an extra subject to the academic syllabus to tackle extremism, an action that some governments have recommended. With groans from students having to study for yet another class, Citizenship lessons might actually prove useful. Topics tackled are issues that wouldn’t necessarily be discussed in a teacher-student environment.

Already some Muslim schools have taken on this challenge, introducing subjects of extremism, loyalty to one’s country, respecting people from different religions and cultures, and so forth. Hopefully not only will this subject help students to understand more about peace and mercy in the Islamic religion towards others, it could also improve social cohesion.

But- I wondered as I stepped into a famous Museum where millions congregate to marvel at statues and items locked safely behind glass cabinets- But- shouldn’t non-Muslim schools around the world be requested to take on Citizenship lessons too, teaching students that the majority of Muslims are against extremism and terrorism, that Muslims are not a freak show to be stared at, or a circus show to be laughed at, that we have not just escaped from a high-security mental institution, that no, we do not have bad breath and we are certainly not contagious from any diseases. Surely it would be a good place to start to learn how both sides of the coin can live together. I could teach my students all about respecting others, but these “others” should also be taught to respect us in return- it takes two to tango.

Evidently there is no tango-ing yet. Walking around the Museum with a large group of Muslim veiled girls, I was shocked, no- mortified and emotionally violated. People everywhere looked at us, individually and as a group, with rude, disgusted stares. A few were ready to physically attack us. Isn’t that extremism on their part?

That’s not forgetting the flash photography aimed at the girls without their will- how do famous people deal with the paparazzi? Every time I saw a flash I went hysterical. In a sly fashion, random men would stroll next to the girls and take a shot, for what purpose is beyond my imagination. Some were too cowardly to come close up, but were spotted afar hiding behind statues while taking their shot. With the new age of digital cameras, every single person had one and we all felt vulnerable and exposed. Asking for help from security staff we were told there was nothing they could do and suggested that we write to the Museum to complain. How helpful.

For a second I honestly believed that these people thought the Museum was running a special exhibition dubbed Mad Muslim Women! Perhaps, in a more positive thought, they were astonished to find a bunch of “intellectual” Muslim women interested in visiting a Museum instead of the local market or as its traditionally known, the souq! We should have held a banner stating “Believe it or not, we are just innocent Citizens here- just human!” if we had known of the reception we were going to have.

Surely these people need to be taught one or two (or perhaps a few hundred) Citizenship lessons, or something, to avoid such ignorance and as a result, social unrest. In order for all humans to live peacefully, each side has to take the step to understand one another. It’s pointless to have one side do all the leg work. Who said ignorance is a bliss? I pity the people I met at the Museum, because they have no idea that we are decent human beings that do not deserve to be treated with such contempt.

Being in that situation felt like a reconstruction scene of the hardships the Prophet Muhammad and his early followers faced from non-believers. But what we went through at the Museum is nothing compared to what the earliest Muslims went through, at least I hope it never gets that bad. I hope and pray that one day we can all accept that we are sharing the same planet and we have to live together in harmony and respect our differences.

I hope and pray- what else is a girl to do when she’s exposed at the Museum.