Like so many of us today, I’ve been thinking back to September 2001. I was a senior in college, pretty far from home. I remember obviously the trauma, but also the amount I used to cry and cry during namaz. I once burst into tears during class. There was an odd confusion of emotions that I was having a lot of trouble with.
I was actually pretty nervous about backlash. I’ve never really experienced any sort of hate crime (thanks to Allah), and I was the head of the MSA at a small liberal arts college, with a small Muslim population. I actually had nothing to worry about. Everyone on campus was very supportive and actually concerned. The President of the College actually sought me out to check to see how I was doing and how other Muslim students on campus were doing. The other religious chaplains asked us to be part of a memorial service. I should’ve known better than to be worried at a place that had become my second home.
But it wasn’t just about backlash. The advisor for the MSA sent us a message saying that we should never feel like we have to apologize for or explain the motivation behind the events of September 11th. And of course I understood that, but it’s hard not to feel in some way connected, if not responsible. After all, our religion has been manipulated in a way to legitimize the slaughter of thousands of innocents. How do we respond to this? And I’ve always been someone who’s been in the religious minority in school and work. And I’ve actually never minded that – I think I kind of like it. I want people to ask me about being a Muslim. I usually welcome their questions, because I figure it’s better to address them, to rid the word of some misconceptions, rather than to force people to leave things unsaid because they are too afraid or ashamed to ask.
So anyway, the confusion and emotional turmoil continued for a while.
It was something Ammi said to me that started to bring me out of it. I can’t remember it exactly but the meaning was pretty much, “Your home and country has been hurt, so of course you will cry for it. And then you will pray and help it heal.”
And that actually really meant a lot to me. Because she emphasized to me my role and duty as an American. And I think she presented it in a way that made it part of my religious duty as well. Somehow the sense of conflict went away. I didn’t feel like I had torn loyalties. Because I didn’t.
Anyway, that was a long and convoluted post to get to the following point:
I think as Muslims, it has become more and more important for us to raise our children to be contributing, active, visible, and positive members of the societies that they grow up in. It’s scary to think of all those youths that have come from educated backgrounds and “good families” and have ended up as suicide bombers and terrorists. I often wonder what has made them become so disenfranchized and disconnected.
And what can we do to make sure it stops? How do we raise our children to be part of the Muslim Ummah and citizens of their countries in a way that is harmonious and positive for all involved?
Am I making any sense?