Tonight I listened to a segment from ABC 4 Utah in which the co-founders of the Emerald Project talked about President Biden's repeal of the Muslim Ban. The Emerald Project is an organization trying to combat the misrepresentation of Islam. Listening to Nora and Satin talk about their experiences with Islamophobia got me thinking about my own perception of Muslims and how it has evolved over the years.
During my Sophomore year of college (2008) I took a World Religions course in which I learned a little bit about Islam. Up to that point my exposure to Islam/the Middle East were as follows: hearing about Osama bin Laden in the news, the 9/11 terrorist attacks and wars in Iraq and Afghanistan that followed (which I paid attention to cause I was that nerdy high schooler who liked to read the newspaper). I believe it was in my sociology class Freshman year of college that we had a guest speaker one time--a student who had converted from Islam to Mormonism and said he could not return to his family (in Iraq I think?) or he would be killed. I learned about honor killings (which, I should add, are not unique to the middle east) and I knew about suicide bombers and refugee camps from the news. It wasn't all bad. The Kite Runner was one of my favorite novels and as a devout Christian I dreamed of visiting Jerusalem and other important Biblical sites in the Middle East. In some ways I romanticized the region. But in general, both fictional and factual media depictions of Muslims and the Middle East were not favorable, and as you can probably imagine by now, I, like most people, felt that Muslims were a people to be feared. I was, to a degree, Islamophobic.
In the World Religions course I learned that Islam is a religion of peace. It is very similar to Christianity. Muslims believe Allah (God) is the only person you should worship, that you should love God above all else, and it is that love that is the guiding force of your life. They believe in prayer and almsgiving. They fast during Ramadan, and at some point in their life are expected to make a pilgrimage to Mecca during the 12th month of the lunar calendar. During this pilgrimage they wear only 2 white sheets so there is no class distinction among them--sound familiar to the LDS temple and temple clothing? I began to have a basic understanding of the difference between extremism and adherence to a religion.
The next semester I took an Intro to International Politics course in which I learned about Sharia Law and the Taliban. By then I understood that not everyone wanted Sharia Law to be practiced, but still, it did not help to elevate my view of the Muslim world.
On my mission I remember passing a car one day as we were walking to someone's house and a man emerged, looked at us, and shouted something about praising "Allah". I'd be lying if I said it didn't startle me a bit. While I was dating Brennan, we saw the movie Captain Phillips which was a very intense, scary movie for sensitive little me and it made me afraid of Somalis (Somalia is a Muslim country). Months later we moved to Columbus, Ohio. I remember pulling into the parking lot at the BMV to get my license and seeing a few men outside. I thought, they look like they're Somali, and I am ashamed to admit I felt a little bit afraid of them--since, you know, there are so many pirates in Ohio. I told Brennan about it when I got home and he informed me that Columbus is home to the second largest Somali population in the U.S. *side note: I realize that I sound like a very sheltered person, and I am/was. I grew up in North Salt Lake where, according to 2019 estimates, 86% of the people are white (possibly higher when I was growing up because it has grown a LOT since I moved away in 2007) and I'm certain the vast majority of those white people professed the same Christian denomination. Moving across the country was a very good thing for me.* A few months later I got a job as an ESL assistant teacher in an elementary school on the west side of Columbus. 1/3 of my students were Somali. Thus began the dismantling of my Islamophobia. I was able to spend time every day with kids wearing hijabs who did not look like me and whose life experience was vastly different from mine. I got to know their parents a bit. I learned a little bit more about Islamic traditions and holidays. The street that we lived on for four of our years in Columbus was home to many Muslim families from a variety of middle eastern countries.
When Nora was a toddler we were out shopping one day and Nora saw this cute little curly haired boy she kept following and wanting to play with. The father of this little boy smiled and asked me what her name was. I said "Nora" and he said, "Where I come from Nora means bright light." I thought that was beautiful. (If I remember correctly they were from Jordan).
One of my favorite memories was when a group of Afghan women tried to teach me some Pashto phrases. It was near the end of our time in Columbus and we walked over to the elementary school next to our house so Nora could play on the playground. There was a group of women and their children sitting on the grass next to the playground eating and talking. Nora wandered over there because she saw they had food. I stood nearby to make sure she didn't bother them, but one of the women offered her a dried apricot and looked at me for approval. I nodded that it was okay and then Nora sat down making herself right at home. I walked over to keep an eye on her and the women invited me to join them as well. The mothers did not speak English, but the children did. So we sat there for a while eating nuts and dried fruit while they taught me how to say "sanga" (how are you?), "kha yam" (I am well), "manana" (thank you), and "Allah Paman" (goodbye).
Those may seem like small, meaningless interactions, but being in close proximity to Muslims, and getting to know them personally helped to change whatever notions I had about what it meant to be Muslim. The best antidote I have found to "othering" is to get to know others up close. Make sure you are never using dehumanizing language. Ask questions instead of making assumptions.
I remember when Donald Trump imposed the travel ban from predominately Muslim countries and I felt mortified. It was xenophobic, islamophobic, and I felt so sad for the people with family overseas who did not know when or if they'd be able to see their loved ones again. It felt very inhumane. I felt so relieved when President Biden repealed that Executive Order. Because while it may not have affected me personally, it hurt other humans.
Looking back over the last four years of Trump's presidency (and 5-6 years since he began his toxic campaign for president) I think about how my worldview has drastically changed. I am a different person than I was in 2008 when I took that World Religions class. And who am I afraid of now? White men with automatic weapons as big as their egos.
What is your experience with Islamophobia? Or with othering? Have you had an experience that has changed the way you think about a group of people?
No comments:
Post a Comment