by Hafsa Ahmad
Content Solutions Intern, Cook Ross Inc.
It is difficult to forget the first time you are called a “terrorist”. At first, it comes as a shock but then you feel more emotionally rattled than you do insulted. Muslims, Arabs, South Asians, or anyone who could be mistaken as Muslim, have possibly experienced this in routine after the September 11 World Trade Center attacks. But after your first, the insults start to meld into just another aspect of life in America.
So when Shaima Alawadi first found a note pinned to her door that stated, “This is my country. Go back to yours, terrorist”, she dismissed it as a mere prank. This instinct to dismiss a threat has become routine for many Muslim-Americans in the past decade. Reporting harassment incidences to the police is perceived as foolish and futile.
Shaima, a sweet-smiled California mom of four, chose to wear the hijab. The tradition of hijab for many Muslim women, beyond modesty, is to identify and distinguish Muslim women from other women. Every Muslim woman who chooses to take up the veil, particularly in America, does so knowing that she will be identifiably Muslim from afar. Now, in Muslim countries, this is hardly a dangerous move. However, the brutal murder of Shaima Alawadi, hijab-wearing Muslim mother of five, proves that in America, identifying yourself as Muslim is tantamount to putting yourself at risk.
The issue at hand holds ramifications far beyond an isolated incident. What this murder reinforces is what many Muslims have feared since 9/11- to wear a hijab or grow a beard is to place yourself in the line of fire for hatred, harassment, even murder, in Shaima’s case. What this spells for Muslims today is that they are forced to choose. Do they hide their Muslim identity and live free of suspicion, hate and harassment?
America can never be the free country that it was founded to be, so long as minority populations within its borders feel pressured to suppress their identity, in return for an increased measure of security. Since the murder of Shaima, Muslims have again arrived at a crossroads to wonder: is it safer if to shed the scarf and shave the beard? Why must Muslims sacrifice tradition, religious freedom and personal liberty for safety and freedom from persecution?
Undoubtedly, countless Muslims have chosen to fight against the suppression of their religious identity. They have, in turn, become increasingly vocal advocates of their religion, in more ways than wearing a headscarf or sporting a beard. However, one cannot deny the fear that rippled through the Muslim-American community- that Shaima could have been any one of us.
The first time I was assaulted for wearing hijab, I was twelve years old, testing out my new bike in my neighborhood park. I faintly heard yells from an approaching SUV, but paid them no mind. As the vehicle approached, I noticed three teenage boys hanging out the window and sunroof, making rude gestures in my direction. Innocently, I glanced around to see who they were yelling at, but saw no one. I realized an instant too late that their hate was directed at me, when the first egg hit me hard on my thigh, followed closely by three more as I biked as hard as I could for home. The trembling stopped eventually, but I could never shake the fear that one day, I could get hit with worse than eggs.
It is horrifying that we live in a country where minorities have to suppress their identity in order to feel safe. This kind of exclusionary behavior threatens the ideals that America was founded upon. America’s founding fathers came here in search of a nation where they could practice their religion openly, and free from discrimination. We are a nation that, despite our Pledge of Allegiance, continually struggles to provide liberty and justice for all. We are a nation where a man who shoots an African-American youth for “looking suspicious” can go days uninvestigated, and where Muslim-Americans dismiss threats because of their lack of faith in the police force.
More than a decade has passed since September 11, 2001, when the vilification of Muslims became prevalent in America. Yet 2010 saw the highest number of hate crimes against Muslims since 2001. These assumptions -- specifically, that a headscarf-wearing mom from California must be a radical Muslim or that a hooded African-American teenager is a criminal -- are fed to us by media, government policies and the recent wars that have ravaged the American psyche. In order to move past tolerance towards inclusion, we have to discover within ourselves the hidden prejudices we hold and courageously address them, not suppress them.