Let's Talk!

This blog is changing. Instead of writing about random musings, I've decided to focus my efforts on one message: Muslim Americans are part of the pluralistic family that is America.

Now that message may seem quite simplistic and not particularly interesting to you. One look at a newspaper or new channel will speak to it's urgency. Anti-Muslim biotry is growing around us, it is clearly evident in the events happening around Park 51, and at mosques in cities, suburbs and small towns across America.

We can react to this growing sentiment is many different ways. We can be passive and wait for it to pass. We can ignore it and not acknowledge its existence (until it comes for you). We can pack our bags and go somewhere else. Or we can speak up, take action, and create real community with our neighbors.

I've decided to speak up. Here's my a part of my story of what it means to be Muslim & American.

I grew up with an Indian passport and a home address in Doha, Qatar. One of many expatriate families of South Asian origin in the Middle East. Home was neither here or there. Sure my family was Indian, but my values came from growing up in a city filled with people from all over the world. Friday morning breakfast (Sunday morning equivalent in a Muslim country) at our house consisted of filafel, hummus, pita, eggs, fried haloumi, and foul (mashed dried fava beans cooked with olive oil and garlic). We didn't always eat curry. We didn't always dress in traditional clothes. English is and always has been my first language.

So for the first 15 some years of my life, I didn't really have a place to call home. Chennai, the souther-Indian city my family was from, was alien and uncomfortable. My brother and I stood out when we went to the "homeland" for summer holidays, with our "NRI" (Non-Resident Indian) accents and lifestyle. Everything was different. Our "Indian-ess" was different from India itself. On the other hand, Qatar was a place we could never permanently call home. Getting Qatari citizenship status was not a possible option for most expats, and with no options for Universities or higher education in general, my time in Qatar seemed to have an expiration date.

Apparently, my father had seen this coming. While visiting his brother in Chicago in the early 80's, my parents applied for greencard to migrate to the United States. But given that we hadn't heard ANYTHING from the U.S. Government by 1990, my family had begun preparations for my graduation from highschool to mark our move back to the "homeland" aka India.

And then it happened. The 1992 bomb blasts in Mumbai and riots in many cities that marked the beginning of a new chapter of communal violence between the Hindu and Muslim communities. I remember watching the news as events in Mumbai unfolded, I remember that queasy feeling that filled my insides as we waited for updates on our friends stranded in their Mumbai homes, hoping that the mobs wouldn't come looking for them.

Two years later we received notice of our approved green card status. Within a couple of years, I found myself as a Junior at Carl Sandburg Highschool, taking A.P. English and joining the speech team. It took me 3 months to "Americanize" my accent, to learn what "homecoming" was, and to figure out my place in the jungle we call an American High School. At Sandburg, I met Indians who were more "Indian" than me. I met Muslims who were more "Muslim" than me.

It was America that taught me the most about myself. Here I learned to put together my Indian-ness, my Muslim-ness, my secular-ness, and more. More importantly, all of these came together to form my American-ness.

Today my insides are again filled with a certain queasy feeling. There are voices in America that tell me that I do not belong here. Then there are voices who speak to the spirit and community that is America - you will hear from them here.

Stay tuned for a daily post from friends & family, from Muslims, Christians, Jews, Hindus and others, from humanists and atheists, from students and professionals. Let's talk. Let's discuss. Let's together make America a better place for generations to come.