Amethyst and Amnesty: Rethinking Drinking in the University by Benny Gottwald

In life, as it is in Greek myth, drunkenness is dangerous. This is common knowledge. That being said, convincing anyone who enjoys drinking to renounce alcohol on those terms alone would be a pointless endeavor. Most people understand the lethality of alcohol and choose to responsibly, sensibly imbibe. This understanding, however, doesn’t simply appear out of nowhere; it is learned.

Much of it is learned in college, where roughly half of all alcohol consumption is done by underage students (Stephenson). Going to parties and drinking is a popular weekend activity; one could argue it is a staple of college life. Despite the apparent danger and illegality of underage drinking, most of us do it anyway. This was also the case in Ancient Greece, and the Greeks had their own cultural way of warding off alcohol’s dangerous effects. Today, the most frightening part of drinking, for young people, is our limited experience. When incidents do occur, inexperienced party-goers are forced to learn their limits the hard way. Young drinkers, unknowing of their tolerance to alcohol, often place themselves in this situation while their peers panic and nervously contemplate what to do next.

Hofstra has a policy in place to ensure that next decision is wise. It’s called “medical amnesty.” It aims to “ensure that those individuals who require assistance for themselves or a friend who may have consumed excessive alcohol or drugs will turn to the appropriate personnel to seek emergency medical assistance without fear of reprisal for doing so” (Hofstra University). The policy’s greatest strength is not only about getting students the help they need; it is about dispelling the apprehension that most bystanders feel in the face of punishment. It morally transcends the law, prioritizing the health and safety of students instead. Every Hofstra student should be aware of this policy. Whether we choose to drink or not, realizing the benefits of medical amnesty guides us towards a greater understanding of our university’s perspective on drinking. Medical amnesty teaches us how to best navigate the culture of college partying, both as bystanders and as active participants. It defends us from the lethality of booze, and from our fear of punishment which far too often prevents us from calling for help.

The ancient Greeks had their own defense against drunkenness. The myth begins with the god of wine and revelry, Dionysus, who one day spots a beautiful young maiden walking by herself. In his drunkenness, the god decides to pursue her, intending to use his heavenly wine to ease her into his company. Little did he know, however, that the young girl was walking to pray at the temple of Artemis, Greek goddess of chastity. Seeing Dionysus approach, the girl prayed to her goddess, begging for her help to remain chaste. In response, Artemis swiftly transformed the maiden into a white crystal, protecting her. In awe of the girl’s chastity, and as a tribute to Artemis, Dionysus poured his ambrosial wine over the white crystal, turning it to a deep purple. The maiden’s name was Amethyst, and the precious purple gem draws its name from her. Ancient Greeks were fond of amethyst; they crazily believed the stone could protect them from drunkenness. Amethysts were carried by party-goers and goblets were often embezzled with the gorgeous stones in the hopes that they might shield their owner from a long night of vomiting.

While modern science can disprove the amethyst as an antidote to drunkenness, it cannot dispel its sentiment. Those who enjoy drinking, should they go too far, need a system in place that better guarantees their safety and, if necessary, offers them a much-needed learning opportunity. Medical Amnesty is that system, and Hofstra’s Department of Public Safety officers are the gems which guarantee its effectiveness. Author Jade Chu, in her piece “Public Safety Saves Lives,” writes, “Even though we have a strict rule with no alcohol on campus, Public Safety will never get you in trouble for something like this, or tell your parents. Their job is to make sure that you get the help you need” (Chu). Public safety officers are firm but friendly, even in situations that call upon medical amnesty. When we truly understand the everyday goal of Public Safety officers—to ensure the safety of all students—our urge to fear them disappears.

I experienced this phenomenon firsthand one night in late September, when a good friend of mine drank more than he could handle and had become terribly sick. Sitting next to him on the curb outside our residence hall, I tried my best to reassure him that he was going to be alright. My efforts alone were not enough to quiet his mind, which was no doubt scared and disillusioned. When he finally tilted his head up from the ground, he looked at me and said “I wouldn’t blame you for calling Public Safety.” I did as he said, and an officer was quick to arrive. He was comforting to my friend, who anxiously asked if he would get in trouble for his situation. The officer kindly replied, “Nobody’s in trouble here. Don’t worry.” As we sat waiting for the ambulance to arrive, I asked him, “So, do you get these kinds of calls often?” He snickered. “All the time,” he said. “It’s what we do.” That night I discovered how hugely influential a simple change of attitude can be, and how brave students can become as soon as their fear of punishment is lifted.

Several weeks later, in my interview with Bob McDonald, I discovered that every member of the Public Safety staff is as benevolent as the officer I had met that September night. I had the opportunity of talking with Mr. McDonald, Associate Director of Public Safety, about medical amnesty and Public Safety’s practice of it. “There’s been a change,” he told me, “not so much of attitude, but of services.” His enlightening explanation of the department’s role, in handling alcohol or drug related incidents, described Public Safety as a “conduit.” Public Safety officers are the first responders to any incident, of course, but they are also the effective conduits through which distressed students receive the services and care they need. “If you see it, call it.” He continued, “You don’t have to worry about repercussions. I think students do want to help other students, and the fact that there is amnesty means there’s no stigma attached to it” (McDonald). Public Safety, and the medical amnesty policy, make the safety of students their top priority, and it sends a positive, progressive message.

This approach—alleviating risk of punishment in return for the safety of students—was not originally Hofstra’s idea. While this university has gracefully implemented the policy, medical amnesty has been on the minds of university presidents ever since 2008, when John McCardell had an idea. As the President Emeritus of Middlebury College, McCardell was preparing to speak at a meeting of the Annapolis Group, comprised of 120 college and university presidents, when he and several of his colleagues from within the group sparked a debate surrounding the effects of the current drinking age. Their conversation was centered around the “culture of dangerous, clandestine ‘binge-drinking’—often conducted off-campus” and recognized that “alcohol education that mandates abstinence as the only legal option has not resulted in significant constructive behavioral change among our students” (Amethyst Initiative).

McCardell’s conversation expanded in size as his colleagues within the Annapolis Group began gravitating towards his idea of rethinking university attitudes towards drinking. Instead of vehemently enforcing the current law so frequently circumvented by students (at off-campus parties or with fake ID’s), McCardell’s idea was to reexamine the traditional disciplinary approach to college drinking. His movement became known as The Amethyst Initiative, and fellow presidents who participated in the discussion became its signatories. Today the initiative has 136 signatories, and while Hofstra is not yet on the list, it certainly echoes the sentiments of the Amethyst Initiative in its attitude towards alcohol. The morals that underpin these policies and conversations indicate huge progress on the part of colleges and universities. Today the topic of conversation is less often about the law, and more often about the safety of all students.

As university students ourselves, it’s important that we listen in on these conversations as best we can; the decisions vested in our university’s administration determine our freedom and our safety. The ancient Greeks had no method for testing their defense against drunkenness; their cultural explanation for its importance, the story of Dionysus and Amethyst, was a strong enough basis for their belief in the purple stone’s powers. As college students in the 21^st century, we should take a valuable lesson from the drinking culture of ancient Greece: strengthening our belief in the things that protect us will only make us safer. Let’s create a culture that reveres Public Safety officers as the guardians they are, and let’s share our stories of their kindness and dedication. They have been there for us in our time of need, and they have fostered experiences that only help us grow. If we can boast that “what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger,” we can also admit that learning to live without danger is wisdom stronger than strength itself.

Works Cited

Amethyst Initiative. "Statement." The Amethyst Initiative. Choose Responsibility, n.d. Web. 01 Nov. 2016.

Braid, Fara. "History and Legend of Amethyst." International Gem Society. IGS, n.d. Web. 27 Oct. 2016.

Chu, Jade. "Public Safety Saves Lives: The Essential University Service." Taking Giant Steps. Giant Steps Press, 14 Feb. 2016. Web. 30 Oct. 2016.

Hofstra University. "Policy on Alcohol, Illegal, and Other Controlled Substances." Community Standards. Hofstra University, n.d. Web. 28 Oct. 2016.

McDonald, Robert K. Personal interview. 07 Nov. 2016.

Stephenson, Steve. "Prevalence of Underage Drinking." Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health. JH Bloomberg School of Public Health, July 2011. Web. 01 Nov. 2016.

Crystal Gayle Is Candy Land: Sweet Inspiration at the Writing Center by Elaanie Jackson

Author Elaanie Jackson

Some in the college game never know how to “use the tools in their toolbox” (KP). When it comes to freshmen especially, it seems they are not always aware of the many blessings and opportunities bestowed upon them. I know this because I am one of those freshmen. Although there are so many services provided at Hofstra, all helpful in one way or another, one all too misunderstood and overlooked by me had been the Writing Center. I would not have gone had it not been required, yet I found out that this is the place to be. It became my go-to zone to discuss topical ideas and develop persuasion strategies, not just in any single essay but in how I approach writing as a whole.

Seeing how my first impression was a bit of a burn, one would think I would list all the reasons one’s feet should never touch the Writing Center floor, but first impressions are like heating up a bag of popcorn. Sometimes one puts the bag in the microwave and gets perfect popcorn back. At other times, one puts that popcorn in for too long or too short and it comes out burned or unpopped. This was true of my first ever experience with the Writing Center, that is, I managed to both burn some popcorn while other kernels remained unpopped. Although I brought an essay I had already written, I had not really considered its strengths or weaknesses nor in what ways it wasn’t what I really wanted to say. Not knowing what I wanted set the stage for an unproductive session, a distracted tutor and my own disgruntled mood. However, word spread in class the next day about a certain tutor at the Writing Center who was really manifesting the heart of the service and who could “help you connect your writing voice with your actual voice” (Seay). Since this is my goal in writing, I made an appointment with this tutor, and this time I had a most life-changing experience.

Crystal "Candy" Gayle

Every kernel popped and not a single one burned when I sat down with Crystal Gayle! For openers, she was so intrigued with what I brought to the essay. While talking at length about the strengths my draft already possessed and then analyzing specifics that could improve it even more, the hour flew right by. It was a complete three-sixty from my first encounter. It turns out that who she is and what she represents has helped me turn in to who I am at my best as a writer and as a human being. Adopting the nickname “Candy” from her sister, Crystal comes straight from one of New York City’s finest boroughs: Brooklyn. She has so many different sides to her that greatly contribute to the amazing woman she is today: a driven, passionate, dedicated, sweet but tough cookie. Daughter to an immigrant mother, she understands what it means to be fearless. “That’s me: throw anything at me and I’ll survive” (Gayle). When interviewing her, I thought of the line from The Way of the Sword: “True strength is keeping everything together when everyone expects you to fall apart” (Bradford). Crystal is the definition of keeping it together. From John Jay College of Criminal Justice for her Bachelors in Political Science, to Queens College for her Masters, to right here at Hofstra University for her Juris Doctorate, she has pushed through any and all obstacles. She told me, “I’ve always been about law. Everything I’ve done, all of the schooling, it’s all just a means to an end” (Gayle). Her passion to help others adds something truly amazing to the Writing Center that is its real heart: someone whose only game is to get others to be the best player they can be.

That’s when I realized Crystal’s middle name ought to be clear as in Crystal Clear. The range of knowledge she has gained from life as well as her three degrees really helps a young writer like myself when siting face-to-face with her. Her intelligence not only reassures; she brings focus, candor, confidence, empathy, advocacy. She told me, “I want people to come and relax and not be scared. I’m in school, I know the game” (Gayle). Students do not do well when ruled by the fear of the written assignment, and one symptom of this fear is to treat the Writing Center as a grammar correction service. Crystal said, “Students are conditioned into thinking that their only problem is grammar when that isn’t the only thing” (Gayle). Fortunately, for the misinformed Crystal’s Socratic method can help students see the larger picture by first owning their own voice and their own ideas. Her client-centered approach is true skillful means; she doesn’t give me the answer to my problem so much as challenge me into solving it with her help. According to my peer in class, “Crystal is very sweet, and made me feel comfortable. She genuinely wants to help and proved to be supportive in helping me brainstorm ways to journal on the blog posts” (Boretsky). The epitome of a service provider, “Candy” exemplifies why one should give the Writing Center a chance.

On subsequent visits there, I discovered that her colleagues share the same end goal: to help us achieve maximum success. My own increased empowerment as a writer has caused me to stop being afraid to use the services one’s “pay-rents” (KP) are putting their money towards. It is ludicrous to have so many advantages and go all four years without employing a single one. I also realized that it is up to me to direct the tutoring session, to seek out the tutors who can help me the most and to not fold up my tent at the first sign of discouragement. One might have a bad experience today and a remarkable one tomorrow. First impressions are a lot, but it is salient for one to remember that things may at times go wrong. Often wrong is merely the prelude to the kind of metamorphic session that Crystal offered me for she opened my eyes to a whole new world of composing an essay. The Writing Center is the place where words and ideas become a picture, and where pictures become a thousand words. If one never explores the opportunities one possesses, one will never fully know or better oneself. Like Crystal, I am prepared to take a chance, live on the edge and try something I would never have thought to do before. Now, when approaching professionals for help---whether a professor, tutor or administrator---I ask: What kind of Candy are we talking about?

Works Cited

Borestsky, Monica, WSC, class discussion (September 15, 2016)

Bradford, Chris, The Way of the Sword, (August 7, 2008)

Gayle, Crystal, WC Interview, (October 31, 2016)

Gordon, Kirpal, WSC, class discussion (September 15, 2016)

Seay, Charlotte, WSC, class discussion (September 15, 2016)

The New Year Brings New Ears: Our Earth / Our World, A Musical Review by Kirpal Gordon

Peter Kuhn: alto & tenor sax, Bb clarinet

Dave Sewelson: baritone & sopranino sax

Larry Roland: bass

Gerald Cleaver: drums

purchase at www.pfmentum.com

Our Earth 25:22

Our World 12:36

It Matters 11:07

Our Earth / Our World is a quartet performance of three sound cycles “recorded on a brisk evening at the 2015 Arts for Art Festival,” according to Robert Bush’s excellent liner notes. Spring and all her glories and Stravinsky-esque rites---fertility, rain, eruption, migration, birth, joy, expansion, fruition, flow, resurrection, sacrifice, cleansing, emergence, explosion, manifestation, ascension---are certainly in the house on the opening number, “Our Earth.” Although reedmen Sewelson and Kuhn display agile improvisational duets “thriving on a riff” whose repetitions and variations turn into prismatic elegance against the steady heart pulse and groundswell of Roland and Cleaver, the saxophonists’ greater gifts are reserved for the less traditional sounds they play. Sewelson’s range on the baritone and sopranino sax evokes so many sounds of nature: of flight and fight, of waves and wind, of leaves blowing in tress and brooks overflowing their banks while Kuhn’s Bb clarinet runs and tenor sax work are wails to the Unknown expressing the inexpressible as Exodus, spider weave, “space for the Silence.” Indeed, these two downtown free-jazz masters, relieved of the 32 bar song structure, reveal structure in everything they undertake. 

This sensation of structure within structure only deepens when the horns lay out and Roland and Cleaver duet, delivering a bare-bone but kalediscopic pulse before Kuhn returns on tenor sax and Sewelson joins him on sopranino sax. I have the distinct experience that these four musicians are collectively celebrating our Earth as the source of our real nature and using their instruments, a product of civilization, to transport us to a pre- or post-civilized condition within ourselves.  The blended horn ending hit like waking up in the garden of Eden.

“Our World” opens with Cleaver rolling that multi-rhythmic voodoo on the drum kit. He’s simultaneously subtle and relentless---truly a force of nature.  By the time clarinet and sopranino arrive to spin call and answer refrains to Cleaver while Roland holds it down, the band has truly transported this listener to a new appreciation of our world.

“It Matters” features Roland out front with an extraordinary bass solo with some beautiful bowing that, like his peers on reeds, finds sounds, rhythms and harmonies that return the listener to the world of nature: whales, tides, swells, whirpools. Cleaver’s skills with cymbals add gravitas to the mix while Kuhn flies the skies on clarinet and Sewelson bends time with his bare hands and long tones. Yes, this is a return to our original nature. It is not music pointing at a portal; its music IS the portal. As bassist extraordinaire & AG scene mahker William Parker writes, “Veterans are in the house bringing in some of that old time religion. No time to experiment they know exactly where they are going into the unknown where pure creativity lives.”

"Connecting the Dots: Identity as Mystery" by Monica Boretsky

“I saw myself inside his begging body. I realized at this moment that we human beings are fundamentally forbidden to shield ourselves from events outside our comfort zones. This unknown, unnamed boy, born into the lowest caste and purposefully made to warrant sympathy, rests inside all of us… I accepted my identity as a mystery larger than I could ever imagine but enriched through the experience of love and acceptance” (Shah, par. 13).

During her time abroad with her parents, Ria Shah found herself walking the streets of Mumbai, when she witnessed this young boy her own age begging on the street. She understood that personal identification is more than just oneself---it lies within the people whom one shares a connection with, no matter how small.  As I transition from high school into my young adult life, I am beginning to understand this now, too. From reading the words of Shah to famous writers like Walt Whitman and Alan Watts activists like Martin Luther King Jr., my personal narrative is becoming clearer. By learning to shrink the distance between the people in my life and myself, I realize that the connection I share with people is my greatest source for self-identification.  

The high school career I experienced was unlike most. In the context of Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave,” the Educational Center for the Arts (ECA), where I majored in dance, was my escape into the light from the deep cave of the public education system in my town. At Daniel Hand High School, where I took my core classes each morning, my teachers kept me chained and forced me to look at assignments through the specific lens of the rubrics they provided. They lit a fire and cast the shadows for my peers and I to absorb. I witnessed how teachers “filed [us] away through the lack of creativity, transformation, and knowledge in this (at best) misguided system” (Freire 244).  Paulo Freire, education philosopher, warned his readers in “The Banking Concept of Education” that students are not containers to fill but are unique minds to inspire. Each day when I left Daniel Hand to attend ECA, I felt released into a more freeing atmosphere. Nevertheless, my dance teachers in my freshman year told me that I was playing it too safely, but the freedom I had been given with movement assignments took time for me to grow into. Reflecting on my years at ECA, I see how it enabled my transition from cave dwelling to discovering a world where I found comfort in creativity and dared to make my own choices. By introducing me to my closest friends and providing a haven for me to explore my art form and find a voice through movement, ECA shaped me into the artist, student and person I am today. Like Plato’s escapee enlarging his perception of all that he believed to be true and returning to his fellow prisoners to share his experiences, dance has been my outlet to escape those cave conformities. It offered me emotional support and helped me cope with the passing of my grandparents. Most importantly, dance is not a judge, and therefore this discipline has encouraged innovation and risk taking.  If I can offer even a handful of people the joy I experienced while learning at ECA, then opening my own dance studio will have been worthwhile.  

Although Plato helped me to better understand my high school struggles, Walt Whitman brought to the surface of my consciousness emotions I felt when first experiencing racism.  My host brother, Ryan Daniels, was born and raised in Harlem.  When he was thirteen years old, he applied to A Better Chance, a high school program to attend Daniel Hand High School in Madison, Connecticut. In his freshman year at Hand, he met my older brother, Nick, in his geometry class. Their friendship quickly grew and my family decided to host Ryan for the remaining three and a half years he would attend my town’s high school. More than just a friend, Ryan became a part of my family. By living at my house, he opened my eyes to how privileged of an upbringing I had.  He made me appreciate the things I took for granted, like how my family was lucky to know there would be food on the table each night. Ryan also taught me how injustice is everywhere, even in my picturesque suburban town. Witnessing his experiences, I have seen how deep racism is within a community and how detrimental are its effects.

Ryan became acclimated to life in Madison and meshed into the friend group that Nick had been a part of since middle school. When Nick and Ryan became extremely close, many of the boys took notice and began making ultimatums with my brother, saying he could only join if Ryan did not come along. This culminated in a Saturday night party during their junior year when the group forced them to leave. They were led out of the house through the garage and there, spray painted on the wall for them to see, read “nigger.” I was twelve years old at the time and I had never seen my older brother cry, but that night sent Nick into a whirlwind of emotions, as he discovered racism present in the group of friends he thought he knew so well. Ryan tried his best to seem unaffected by it, but we could tell how hurt and betrayed he felt. My whole family felt the pain; I was upset to see how sad it made my brother, and I was enraged at his alleged friends for being so dismissive and discriminatory towards Ryan. The mass of emotions I felt during this time became clearer when I read Section One of “Song of Myself”: “For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you” (Whitman, para. 1). This appreciation of our interdependence is also representative of the post-conventional stages of Lawrence Kohlberg’s moral development model. What was felt by my family was the understanding of “abstract ideas of equality, dignity and respect” (Kohlberg). Ryan had become a part of my family, so when his dignity was disrespected, so was my family’s.     

Just as Whitman revealed these strong emotions connected with Ryan and social injustice, Alan Watts helped me resolve issues in my religious life. Growing up in a Roman Catholic family, spoon-fed stories of Jesus and God through attending mass and catechism classes for years, I learned that He is the divine being from which all things come, there to provide love and guidance for me, so I must fully accept and believe in His presence and power. My grandmother had been the most prominent source of religious faith in my family. Her faith was more than an aspect of her life; it shone in her lifestyle. Even in casual conversation, if I were to mention to her that I misplaced something, she would remind me to pray to Saint Anthony for guidance. However, I never truly prayed to God on my own, only when in the presence of my family at Mass, nor had I much confidence in the idea of God as an actual entity. This past spring, however, when I lost both of my grandparents within the span of five weeks, I began to pray on my own. This act made much more sense to me after reading, “Inside Information,” the first chapter of The Book: On the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are. Watts states, “Of course, you must remember that God isn't shaped like a person. People have skins and there is always something outside our skins” (Watts 9). Now I'm finding greater meaning in the idea of God not as the judge of a competition for His approval, but rather as the ground of my being most fully expressed in the act of love. After years of listening to sermons and hymns about the Lord, I feel most connected to the divine via the loving relationship I shared with my grandparents. This feeling mirrors Watts’s closing thought, “that the less I preach, the more likely I am to be heard” (Watts 14). I am finding a deeper sense of faith now and am beginning to see the true simplicity in religion. Personally, its value is not found in long hours of prayer and reading of the scriptures but felt in my daily relationships through loving, serving, remembering, and cherishing.  

In the wake of this year’s presidential election, loving relationships that cherish our differences in mutual support seems more valuable than ever. This year was my first opportunity to vote, and I was confident for a particular outcome. Unfortunately, the candidate I supported did not win, and I struggle to accept the bigotry and ignorance of our president-elect. As an eighteen-year-old college student, I must be aware of how the current politics will shape my future, from the type of workforce I will be entering after graduation to my ability to obtain health care as a young adult. Not only do I disagree with much of what creates Mr. Trump’s political platform, I have issues with his lack of awareness and feelings for people that do not look or act like him. As I grow up, I feel a larger purpose for civic duty, that if my government is not protecting and supporting the rights of all people, it is my responsibility to stand up and do my part. I am already witnessing the fear of my homosexual and Mexican friends, as they are unsure of how their communities will be treated during a Trump presidency. A close friend of mine from ECA, who prefers to be unnamed, came out to his friends and family during his sophomore year.  As he watched the election results on November 8th, he reposted on his Facebook page:

“Hey Trump supporters: There’s something I’d like you to understand about people of color, women, LGBTQ people, Muslims, and every other marginalized group. We’re afraid.  We’re not just upset our candidate isn’t winning…. When over half the country votes for a candidate who wants to strip you of your rights, who incites violence against you, who believes your existence is a threat, it’s fucking scary. Don’t pretend our fear isn’t on you. It is” (Anonymous).  

Millions of Americans, including myself, feel the way my friend does in response to the outcome of this election. However, perhaps this is an opportunity for our country to become more unified, to band together, to stand for the right of justice. As Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote in 1963, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny” (King, para. 4).  This statement challenges those who disagree with my friend’s values of acceptance and equality. It inspires me to not live idling by, as injustice occurs to our fellow citizens, who all deserve to live in a country that takes pride in its freedom of speech, religion, press, assembly, and petition.  

By reading the works of such noteworthy writers, I have been able to grasp a clearer sense of my identity. Reflecting on the past, I have a begun to connect the dots of my experiences to gain a further scope of my personal narrative: what I value and cherish, and what I aspire to be in the future. Just as Ria Shah accepted her identity as something larger than herself, I am realizing this for myself through reading such noteworthy philosophers, poets, and activists.     

Works Cited

Anonymous.  Facebook post. 8 Nov. 2015.  Web. 6 Dec. 2016.

Freire, Paulo. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. "The Banking Concept of Education "(1970): 242-55.    Print.

King, Martin Luther, Jr. "Letter from Birmingham Jail." N.p.: n.p., 1963. 2011. Web. 4 Dec. 2016.

"Kohlberg's Stages of Moral Development - Boundless Open Textbook." Boundless. N.p., n.d. Web. 04 Dec. 2016.

Plato’s "Allegory of the Cave" - Alex Gendler. TED-ed, 17 Mar. 2015. Web. 4 Dec. 2016.

Shah, Ria. "Has the University Stolen the Fire in Our Bellies? A Proposal to Activate & Celebrate Student Responsiveness." Taking Giant Steps. N.p., 27 Oct. 2015. Web. 07 Dec. 2016.

Watts, Alan. The Book: On the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are. (1969): 11-28. Menantol. Web. 04 Dec. 2016.

Whitman, Walt. "Song of Myself (1892 Version)." Poetry Foundation. Poetry Foundation, n.d. Web. 03 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.