Being, Becoming My Triple Identity by Semira Ahemed

Identity is given and perceived; we are born as we are without choosing our race, gender or family. All three are our bases to understand or realize who we are, but they are not the only identities we have. I am a woman who is black and Muslim. I have my own individual identity even if I am overlapped by group identities. However, people perceive me by the stereotypes and labels that are put on my group identities. While growing up, there were moments in which I wanted to change myself to be accepted until I realized that even if I do everything in my power it is not enough to fit in the puzzle. It is not enough even if I remove my hijab, change my dialect or adopt a stranger style. Moreover, I should not have to change my shape to fit in the puzzle when I know I can still fit in with my authentic self. People try all sorts of things with the hopes of finding their true self; for me, my journey of self-discovery has led me to college. Attending a university is my journey to define who I am, and Alan Watts, Gloria Anzaldua, and Susan Faludi have helped me to truly embrace my triple identity.

I am a person of color, but that does not stop me from engaging with people of all kinds; I have friends from China, Czechoslovakia, and Russia. I am Muslim, but that does not limit me from reasoning and enjoying freedom. Religion is not a challenge in my life; rather it is my motivation to find the truth, to find my purpose. I am a woman, but it does not mean I am weak. It is my strength to fight against all odds and to experience this world differently. I am all three of these things at once with my character, intelligence, and heart. Nevertheless, people make their assumptions by what they see without interacting with me. 

It is easy to be noticed when I am the only Muslim, black or woman in a classroom or social gathering. Yet I do not freak out being the only one because it is my opportunity to truly show and represent all three identities. It is also common to be bombarded with the following questions: Who obliged you to wear the headscarf? Are you suppressed? Are you sure you are capable of doing it? Don’t you think it is better for boys to do it? Why do you try to be the first? When are you planning to marry? People ask me if I am from Africa as if it is one country. They wonder why I raise my voice and laugh so loudly. They are confused about how I wear my hijab.
 

          

All these questions are triggered by the stereotypes and ignorance surrounding my triple identity. Then I ask: Is it a freedom to decide which part of my body to show? Cannot one see that I cover my hair and not my brain? Is it my choice to be perceived for my character and intelligence, but not for my body look? How can we as women show what we are capable of when we are not even given the opportunity to start with? How can physical strength still have such a value in the 21st century? How is it that speaking one’s mind and expressing one’s emotions are associated with arrogance? How does my skin color still create a challenge to be accepted as a human? Who are you to tell me that I am weak without knowing my background and the challenges I overcome? Does wearing my hijab like this makes me less Muslim or is it my way of expressing my religion and my origin together?

Growing up in a conservative Muslim family, there were rules and values that I had to follow. However, I never questioned my family about what was right and wrong. I never had the guts to decide for myself because I acted like every other Muslim girl in my village. I loved playing soccer, but there were no girls whom I could play with since girls stayed at home with their mothers. Indeed, it was even hard to play with boys because girls were supposed to be modest. Alan Watts in The Book: On the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are writes, “It is a special kind of enlightenment to have this feeling that the usual, the way things normally are, is odd….” (Watts 11). Watts’ insight relates to me whenever I question the status quo. I did not have the opportunity to know him before coming to college, but without reading his works I related with him through my rebellious actions. I played soccer breaking the ordinary norm and led my team to win the sub-city soccer competition. Even though what I did was simple, it was my first step toward identifying who I am. An African adage says, “Until the antelope wins the fight, the tales of victory shall always be the lion’s” (African). This proverb is a constant reminder to write my own history and not to repeat the same story women before me had—a story that was written by the society in which they lived.

I never knew a woman whom I could look upon as a role model. Not seeing a person who was like me in the dreams that I wanted to achieve made it seem quite impossible. The life cycle of a girl in my village was all too predictable. She goes to school just to learn how to read and write because marriage is the obvious next phase in life after high school. Warsan Shire, a Somali-British poet says, “It is not my responsibility to be beautiful, I am not alive for that purpose. My existence is not how desirable you find me” (Shire). But in my village a woman’s beauty was more valued than her intelligence; at the end of the day, it is the man who is in charge of everything. After growing up in a village with such low expectations for women, I still do not believe that I am at Hofstra pursuing my undergraduate degree without paying anything. However, I still think about the girls in my community who did not have the opportunity like me to pursue their passion and dream. They are in a closed box which they cannot escape without doing something out of the ordinary. I now have better opportunities than ever before, but Susan Faludi, in her introduction to Backlash: The Undeclared War against Women, cautioned me not to be distracted by the media to fully achieve my gender equality. Moreover, as Malala Yousafzai said, “I raise my voice not so that I can shout, but so that those without a voice can be heard” (Yousafzai).

We only notice our racial identity when we embed ourselves with other social groups. I am from Ethiopia, a country that was never colonized, which made it easy to see people for who they are rather than their skin color. It was Hollywood movies that introduced me to the idea of color and the privilege and discrimination that comes along with it. I never had a color scanner glass to evaluate people and that has given me an invaluable chance to engage with diverse people at Hofstra. Nevertheless, most people do not wear the glasses I do, and some are colorblind to believe all should be the same with one homogenous culture and dialect. I even questioned myself if my English accent with Amharic root and some British pronunciation was not enough in America. But Gloria Anzaldua, a Chicana writer, gave me the courage not to be ashamed of my dialect but to be proud since it reflects my identity. Moreover, pursuing my undergraduate degree outside of my continent far away from my family is giving me the opportunity to define my identity independently. Developing a double consciousness is essential, and according to W.E.B. DuBois, it is the sense of looking at one’s self through the eyes of others. Just staying one semester in college helped open my eyes to see myself through the experience of others who have a completely different background, culture and identity.

           

I never thought I would question the beliefs I held true until I read Alan Watts. He challenged me to rethink if I do things out of humanity or for the sake of collecting good deeds to go to paradise. I used to do good things because my religion said so, but now in my heart I am conscious of what is right. Alan Watts helped me to see the interconnectedness in the universe and to view events without greed and ego. His book made me more responsible than I was before. I am now more sensitive to the value of the love I give to animals and people.

It would be a lie to say that I am not changing throughout my university experience. College has been more than just academics; it is a place to search my true self and transition to adulthood. Indeed, Lao Tzu is right when he said, “If you are depressed you are living in the past. If you are anxious you are living in the future. If you are at peace you are living in the present” (Tzu). It is now my everyday purpose to find peace within myself and to become the best version of who I am. Every person I meet and all the books I read are helping me to uncover my true personality on my continuing life journey.

Works Cited

Alake, Olu. And Who AM I? Cultural Diversity, Identities and Difference. N.p.,15 Dec.2005.

Web 5 Nov.2018

Meah, Asad. Awaken The Greatness Within. 33 Inspiring Lao Tzu Quotes. 2015. Web. 26

Nov.2018.

Shire, Warsan. Goodreads, https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/.2018. Web. 6 Dec.2018

Watts Alan. The Book; on the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are. New York: Pantheon,

1966. Menantol. Web. 06 Dec. 2016

Yousafzai, Malala. Goodreads, https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/850987. 2018. Web. 28          Nov.2018

A Hijab-Wearing Muslim Reflects on Identity in the Age of Trump by Rosheen Awais

Self /self/: In psychology, self is defined as the set of attributes, abilities, attitudes and values an individual believes defines who he or she is. We believe we are beautiful, smart, loved, hated, short, tall, poor or rich. For some, it takes until adolescence to define oneself, and for others, it takes us a lifetime to define ourselves. Unfortunately, we define ourselves based on the approval of others. But who are the "others," the judges, the expectants? This "other" is not a person, or a group of people, yet is the invisible audience we believe are standing in front of us; we are victims of our own conscience. We work for this audience, we earn for this audience and often, we do what we hate to do in order to reach the infinite expectations of this audience. However, we should not fall victim to these expectations and the expectorants, who hide us from our true self. I have been a victim to this audience for far too long; even today, I dress, I act and talk the way others want me to talk, the way I believe I will be able to fit into society. Even if I stand out in a sea of blonde hair and blue eyes, I work to act like one of them despite the fact that I am a brown-eyed, hijab-wearing Pakistani. In the words of Malik El-Shabbazz, “We’re all in the same boat and we are all going to catch the same hell from the same man. He just happens to be a white man” (X, 1964).

Let me identify myself: I am Rosheen Awais, an 18-year-old daughter, sister, and student. I am a Muslim from Lahore, Pakistan, but born in Woodside, Queens, New York. I am smart (smart enough to get into Hofstra University), I care about the people around me, and personally, I believe I can care too much, but if anyone takes advantage of my affection, they’re nothing to me. I just identified myself in the “worldly” or “material” sense; how I perceive myself as a person, who I am, what I do, even my interpersonal characteristics are part of “me.” The real me is who I am as a whole. I am a follower of Allah, a believer of the six articles of faith and a follower of the five pillars. I believe in the immortal, the King of kings; I believe that the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) was the last prophet, and I believe in the final revelation. Nevertheless, Islam is not about believing; it is not a religion. Rather, it is a set of principles for life: I pray five times a day and I fast for one month each year, devoting this month to God and remembering the less fortunate. The same Sharia law that some Americans fear is taking over the original law of the land is not a law; it is a lifestyle. In the Qur’an, Surah 5 Verse 32: “If you save one man’s life, it is as if you have saved the lives of all mankind.” How could a religion that preaches love and sympathy for every human being, regardless of what they believe and who they pray to, have such mercy on a non-believer? I could be just like many other young adults who “did the physical part of their religion, but never let their heart out.” I could, like millions of others, still be standing in a dark tunnel, waiting for a ray of hope; but no: I have found my ray of hope in my religion, in the perfected religion, even though I admit every day that I am in fact far from perfect. Islam is not a material characteristic; it shapes one’s life, how one should act, and remember that no matter what: God is “Al Basir and Al Sami” (All Seeing and All Listening). If us humans cannot identify our whole self, remember: even God needed to use 99 names to convey his identity.

Earlier I had said that I was an American, but now I will say I am an American by name. Malik El- Shabbazz states that: “Being born in America doesn’t make you an American, you wouldn’t need any legislation, you wouldn’t need any amendments to the constitution…”, and he is absolutely correct. Most of the people who call themselves “Americans” have ancestors as early as grandparents who moved from Europe or Asia to America (X, 1964). America is stereotypically seen as the Christian, melatonin-deprived, deer-hunting Republican population who managed to get a man addicted to spray tan into office. In reality, America includes the little ripped pieces of cloth left on the floor, in a reservation, living poor lives or managing casinos on the U.S-Canadian border. Even though the Indigenous live in their homeland, America is nothing like home to them. Taken over by strange outsiders and their diseases, the real America is falling through. My point is: who am I to say I am an American because I have a blue and gold passport, or I speak English with a New York accent? I am simply a guest who is long due to return home. Referring to the quote by Mr. X, if this had been our home, we would not fear hate crimes and seek deportation; we would pass legislation just so that a hijabi can work at an Abercrombie and Fitch. Who I am is who my ancestry is: Pakistani, from a family as early as my grandmother, who came from Amritsar to Lahore at the tender age of 6 months came to create a new identity that was nothing much more different than their Indian roots but moved to Pakistan to enjoy the freedom of an Islamic Republic. Now one may argue that my grandparents, who came from another country are not technically Pakistanis. Well, I must refute: Pakistan was created by Quaid E Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah to give Muslims in India a new land to identify with, a land with legislature following Sharia law, where a country can be run the Islamic way. My grandparents and great grandparents belonged because the law, the legislature, and the country was founded for them. I am a Pakistani because I know that if I am ever forced to leave a country that is not mine, Pakistan is the only land that will ever embrace me like my own mother. I just returned from Pakistan after eight years of constant yearning. Like an addict, I begged to go back one more time, with each passing year, thinking about what I would sacrifice to jet set back to Lahore for one week. Even after living in America for 18 years, my country and my culture run through my veins. I have lived amongst people completely opposite of me for my whole life, yet I still am shocked at some of the habits and lifestyle of the people who live in America. Instead of blood, ganne ka ras (sugarcane juice) runs through my body, and the burning smell of sittay (wheat chaffs) floods my nose with each memory.

My material self---where I was born, my ancestry, my religion---extends to my whole self, who I am from the inside, my past, my upbringing and where I really am from. I described two attributes that define myself as a whole, my religion and my ancestry. Personally, I feel more comfortable around people who are like me, who dress like me, eat like me, and have a lifestyle similar to mine. Although I come from a third world country and I am living in America, something inside always attracts me back to Lahore and Pakistan, and attract me to people who are from Lahore and Pakistan. I have lived in America my whole life, but what I know is that I will always feel like an outsider, no matter how well I speak the language, dress myself and how educated I become. There will always be someone to say, "Go back to your own country," so go ahead and buy me a ticket back and I will gladly pack my bags! In regards to Islam, being a Muslim is comforting to me; I know that in every high and low there is a greater Being who I can resort to, even if every human on earth is against me. Although I have never seen God, I have a blind trust, a trust that has been reinforced by the miracles in my life. Some may refute that miracles are only coincidences, but I must refute that these so called coincidences which are often out of my reach happen so perfectly. I am comfortable in my hijab, and I am comfortable on my knees on a prayer rug.

 

The mosque at Lahore

Works Cited

Malcolm X: “The Ballot or the Bullet.” Malcolm X: The Ballot or the Bullet. Social Justice

            Speeches, n.d. Web. 08 Dec. 2016.

Internal Jihad: My Identity as a Muslim American by Arbaaz Khan

"Many American Muslims are peaceful and define jihad primarily as an internal struggle to improve."---Marvin Olasky

As the first semester of my college career comes to an end, my secondary education seems so long ago. I would be lying if I said I did not miss high school---I miss it every day. However, Hofstra University has changed me, my thought process, as well as my priorities. It has opened my eyes on what is the reality that we are living, as well as how much the reality sucks. Ultimately, I am beginning to discover my purpose here at college through the maturation of my mind and realizing how precious each second really is during my time.

Unlike many public high schools in the country, mine was run by predominantly white individuals. Eastport South Manor is 93% white and is also ranked 9,365th of 9,538 in the country for public high schools in diversity (Eastport). Yes, I was at a disadvantage from the start. Being a brown kid entering such an uncultured environment made me have to adjust my beliefs according to the beliefs of the kids there. I soon began losing my way. Although the proper path that my parents raised me to follow was hiding the fact that I am Muslim, it seemed like the right thing to do. 

Having parents who immigrated from Pakistan to this country is an adjustment that I have still not comprehended to this day. Diving into the American culture was difficult for them as well as for me. Due to not attending school in the United States, my parents never understood what occurs in the classroom as well as the community. As their first child, my parents kept me isolated through the elementary school years of my life as they did not know what to expect. When I started high school, my ceiling was lifted slightly as I started to gain more control in becoming involved with the community and known by others. I took part in sports and joined clubs such as track and field, which is where I found my place. Becoming more social and outgoing seemed great to me at first as I began to enjoy what I was doing, and more importantly, enjoyed going to school. However, there was a dark side. Being the minority at such a large public high school made me encounter many racist remarks due to my origin. This oppression is something that I dealt with throughout my high school years, which aided in masking my true self. Although this oppression was my down point, the extracurricular activities helped me portray my fake self which in turn helped me fit in. Ultimately, what I was doing was just running away from who I really am. Being involved with after-school activities took time away from being at home, specifically praying, as my parents were very religious and raised me to be likewise. 

Along with this obstacle of shading myself from the reality of who I really am, I began ignoring the requirements of my religion of Islam. The term “whitewashed” can come into play as the white culture that I was being exposed to was threatening my traditional values. The Quran states, “So let not this present life deceive you” (Surah Fatir, verse 5); this correlates with the inner war I began to have with reality. I was taking everything for granted and not thanking God for what I have been spoon-fed that others struggle to acquire. I was taught that the present life is a test given to us from God and the afterlife is the reward. However, from the start of high school I left this notion until senior year came along.

The university application process made me realize the reality that I was not going to be in high school forever.  The college journey on which I was about to embark would compel a change in the values that I learned in high school. I knew that I had to break my silence, as Gloria Anzaldua states, “I will overcome the tradition of silence” (Anzaldua, 40).  As I was silent about my religion for most of my high school career, the thought of embracing my culture left me fearful of what the outcome would be.  Gloria Anzaldua explains, “Yet the struggle of identities continues, the struggle of borders is our reality still. One day the inner struggle will cease and a true integration take place” (Anzaldua, 44).  The borders of my predominantly white high school suffocated me with their norms, leaving me helplessly trying to pick up the shattered pieces of my true self.

Thinking in the context of Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave,” my acceptance to Hofstra University was my time to move away from my deprived self of culture due to my experiences from high school. Escaping from the cave of my high school, my uncultured self was also left behind so I could start on the right foot and follow the guidelines that my parents raised me to shadow. As stated in the Quran, “And he found you lost and guided you” (Adh-Dhuha 93:7).  My religion came to me in my struggle of finding myself and put me back on the path that I left. As my high school years seem so long ago now, the internal struggle that I faced helped me grow and prepare for what Hofstra has in store for me.  Malcolm X states, “Islam is my religion, but I believe my religion is my personal business.  It governs my personal life, my personal morals” (X, par. 3). This holds true in my family and in the religion of Islam as it is a pure religion and not the extremist destruction that is portrayed on the American media to viewers.

The media conveys negative connotations towards the religion which in turn brainwashes individuals to believe that Islam is a religion of evil when, in fact, it is the complete opposite. In high school, I remember that when I heard a news headline involving terrorism, I would become frightened to go to school and embarrassed to show my face as I believed that an act by a terrorist represented the whole Muslim community. My classmates were raised to correlate the epidemic of terrorism with Islam which was unfair to individuals, such as myself, to be comfortable with expressing what presents the real purpose of Islam. According to the Quran, “Do what is beautiful. Allah loves those who do what is Beautiful” (2:195). Instead of listening to rants on TV or reading false headlines, one should look to the primary source of what defines Islam, namely the Quran. 

My evolution in understanding the true meaning of my religion widened at Hofstra, as I have met individuals who faced similar situations as me in their high school as well as share the same Islamic background. As humans, we are all the same; our background or ethnicity should not excite tension between groups. This common ground is articulated by Walt Whitman, “My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this air, /Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same” (Whitman, par. 1). Through the readings of renown writers, instead of fearing religious oppression, I have become more proud of being a Muslim and have taken the next major step in conquering my internal jihad.

                                            Works Cited

Anzaldua, Gloria. How to Tame a Wild Tongue. N.p.: n.p., n.d. Web. 7 Dec.2016.

"Eastport-south Manor Junior Senior High School." Public School Review. N.p., n.d. Web. 15 Dec. 2016.

Plato “Allegory of the Cave” - Alex Gendler. TED-ed, 17 Mar. 2015. Web. 7 Dec. 2016.

Siddique, Mursaleen. "81 Beautiful & Inspirational Islamic Quran Quotes / Verses in English."

Ultra Updates. N.p., 3 Aug. 2015. Web. 07 Dec. 2016.

Whitman, Walt. "Song of Myself (1892 Version)." Poetry Foundation. Poetry Foundation, n.d.

Web. 07 Dec. 2016.

X, Malcolm. "The Ballot or the Bullet." USA, Detroit. 12 Apr. 1964. The Ballot or the Bullet

PDF. Web. 7 Dec. 2016.

Big Little: A Turkish Muslim Writer Reflects on Malcolm X by Aliosman Kazdal

                                     

Constantly, the contemporary tend to compare themselves to what was, but rarely take time to see what still is and what always will be. The now will always have its differences with the old. What matters is understanding that people are people, and people have always been people for as long as people have been around. Generations are defined; baby boomers are compared to millennials, but only the differences are highlighted. Growing up, I have always liked a particular quote by Sir Isaac Newton, “If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.” To me, and many, this quote connects the generations. When I look at New York City, I think how wild it is that none of the original settlers of the island are alive today. It almost feels borrowed. Civilization itself can only exist if we pass on what we have made to those who follow. This is all merely the preface to the idea that not only do I live in the world created for me by the past, but I am no different than those people despite how different our worlds are. As Malcolm put it, we can both get angry, we can both sense injustice, and we can even follow the same faith (X).

Malik Shabazz, a/k/a/ Malcolm X, was born Malcolm Little on the 19^th of May in 1925. Little grew to be one of the most influential African-American orators in history. Like Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X was a human rights activist, and just like MLK, Malcolm was shot in cold blood. My father was two years old when Malcolm X died in Harlem's Audobon Ballroom in 1965. The world I live in today is very different from the one Malcolm knew, but upon reading about his "The Ballot or the Bullet" speech, I began to relate to him. I had never learned about Malcolm X in school because all of the attention, when talking about the civil rights movement, was aimed towards King. This is understandable to a certain extent, for when I first learned about the black struggle for equality in America, I was in elementary school. No doubt it was easier for my teachers to praise an activist who was the bigger man against the bully rather than the man who put the bully’s teeth to the curb. Malcolm X wanted what King wanted, but in a much more intense as well as rational way. Malcolm wanted to bring Jim Crow before the United Nations; hence, he denounced the concept of civil disobedience, which he saw as begging the oppressor to be fair. Rather, Malcolm demanded justice. He was verbally articulate and aggressive towards white people and refused to believe it possible for people of all races to ever come together in a humane way. He joined the Nation of Islam, a religious movement founded in Detroit, Michigan. I was confused when reading about this point in his life, because he claimed to be a Muslim, but he was not talking like the Muslims I had grown up around. He called Islam the black man’s religion and saw Christianity as the white man's imposition upon black mankind. He used to preach that the white man was created by an evil scientist named Yakub. Upon reading this, I quickly dismissed the idea that this man could ever be a real Muslim, but the story was not over (Malcolm X and the Nation of Islam)---not by a long shot.

Part of being a Muslim is following five tenants, one of which is to take a haj, or a pilgrimage to the holy city of Mecca in Saudi Arabia. The Malcolm I mentioned before had not yet taken the haj. That did not occur until 1964. Like for so many Muslims, the haj is a life-changing experience, and Malcolm was no exception. Soon after, he began to speak like what I would call a real Muslim. At Mecca he saw the very thing he never thought possible: people of different races and skin tones and eye colors all praying together as Muslims.

I wanted to read more about Malcolm. Although I could not have guessed that I would have anything in common with him, I went through the same experience that he did. When I first read about him, I could not think it possible for this man to be a real Muslim in much the same way that he did not think it possible for the races to live together in peace. The moment he realized that it was possible---that proved me wrong also for I had the same experience, although on a significantly smaller scale. Little got bigger, and I also got bigger. This is what Newton means when he says that he looks from the shoulders of giants. Malcolm's experience made its way into my life, so in theory this experience that I am having can find its way to someone else’s life. If we keep sitting on the shoulders of giants who are also sitting on the shoulders of giants, one day mankind will be looking down from the stars.

 

We have always been people, but what changed us was ourselves throughout history. The job of the leading generation is to leave the world a better place than the one that we found. In the same fashion that we were brought up by those before us, we have to life those who are to come after. The New York City that was given to us will be theirs, and that is what humanity is. Malcolm gave me that experience.

   

Works Cited

"Malcolm X and the Nation of Islam." Ushistory.org. Independence Hall Association, n.d. Web. 07 Dec. 2015.

X
      Malcolm X and Alex Haley. The Autobiography of Malcolm X. New York: Ballantine, 1992. Print.