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Twenty Five Years Later

This weekend marks my 25th year of wearing hijab.This year has brought on a lot of challenges in terms of holding tight to what we believe in.There have been too many stories to mention or to force my mind to conjure up.I am here to celebrate my loving affection to my hijab.
My daughter is 12. She started to wear her hijab when she was 11. She asked to start when she was 6 or 7, but I wanted her to start because she really understood the meaning of wearing this crown of Islam.I did not want her to start out of imitation of me or anyone else. As times move toward extremely scary, I would be lying if I said I was not scared for her.Thankfully, we can have more than one emotion course through us at any given time.I have a lot of hope and when I can talk to myself enough, belief that we will definitely be ok.
I can’t live my life in fear of being who I was born to be.I can’t live my life thinking that my family and I will be accepted any more or any less in society if we abandon what we bel…
Recent posts

Scanning My World

I sit quietly petting my child's hair, fingers kissing every strand. "Stay with me till I go to sleep mama" she whispers, "I love the softness of your hands". On my knees and in the dark beside my children's bedside, I read the news, my heart pauses, my stomach tightens, the lump in my throat gets bigger, I remind myself to breath, there are more good people out there than bad. As I try to convince myself of these words, my eyes soak in a very different reality...Tonight a muslim girl was murdered. Tonight a group of people left the mosque with hearts full of light, got  plowed down after leaving late night prayers. I have a hard rock in my throat. It's fire gurgling under a thin crust, impatiently waiting to  erupt  a banshees' shriek of "ENOUGH!" over our planet. Sanctuaries are things of the past. As our days get longer, and hope seems to fade, the only sanctuary from the crimes of men appear to be found soley within the arms of our sod…

An America without Muslims?

Reflections: this is OUR America!

Yesterday I took my children to a protest.  We were welcomed with open arms, hearts and minds.  We were overwhelmed at the amount of support and love that we felt from total strangers.  From people saying, "If they come for you, they better make room for me" to "Thank you for being here".  This is the America that we believe in. This is the country that people fought to protect and make great.  We were never not-great...we have always been great.   Yes, we have had our rocky moments to greatness, but to say that this Orange Troll and his posse can make us "great again" is ridiculous.  This took centuries to perfect.  Through their hate, 45 has made us see our greatness. I'm not giving this joker any credit, but I am saying, "Wow America, how WE shine!"  We need to stay resolute and strong. 

Through his hate, I have held tighter to my hijab.  My hijab has always been my religious statement, but now it is a political one as well.  Through th…

Women's March 2017

Today, I attended one of the hundreds of marches around the country and the world.  Although I wish I could have been in DC with millions of others, I'm happy I was able to attend one close to my university.  While I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of people at that march, I know it was dwarfed compared to some of the bigger marches around the country.  Chicago had to change their march to a rally because the turnout was so big, they couldn't actually march!  Needless to say that it was comforting to know that I am not alone, and I am accompanied by the millions of others that attended the marches, as well as those in their homes that couldn't attend, but cheer us on.  This is a collection of photos of people I met at the march.  I asked each of them to share their main motivation for attending and/or how they felt being there.  Although I wish I had been able to get in more interviews, these are all the ones I gathered.  Enjoy!  I hope the marches you attended were a…

Aleppo

Fathers and mothers beg for the safety of their children.
They implore religious leaders if killing their children would be permissible to save them from rape and murder
Our purest of pure, this is their reality
Hate infiltrating their places of peace among the rubble
Wondering how they will ever escape
Feeling overwhelmed with the idea of safety
They cuddle in their protectors’ arms
The arms of protectors that feel that they have failed their little ones
“Why did I even have you? I am so sorry that I brought you into this world.”
When will their lives change?
Exhausted and cold
The soldiers are coming today
There is no celebrating
“They should be our peace”
“Instead they are our end”
Realizing that the only way for change is for death to knock on their doors
Across the lands and over the seas, people sit and watch in disbelief
They listen to the story of these people, dispossessed and slaughtered
Hearts aching to help, not knowing how
Screaming across their screens with words of disgust, fearfulness…

Color

Color
She sat looking out into a world full of color
Thinking to herself what a beautiful sight it was It spoke of the ebb and flow of diversity  But at times the color would change This change caused her great unease Enjoying the colors yet fearing them all the same The new colors in her spectrum were changing  They were no longer vibrant, they were muggy, swampy - red As people moved back and forth in their daily routines She realized that she was one of the few that could see She felt deep in her heart, a strange worry, and that feeling only grew It was a worry that she had only read about A bitter worry, yearning to be able to do something yet not being able to do anything. Thinking of how to make the color change from red People  kept telling her to stop talking about the problem “The problems cannot envelop your life”, they cheerfully said “Look at the otter on the screen and be happy instead” The color slowly fading The drug of being lethargic only grew with the people who saw …