We all remember some moments in life as if they’re burned into our memory; we can close our eyes and relive them. For me, the moment I found out the twin towers were attacked is one that I will never be able to forget. The World Trade Center had been attacked, and I quickly came to learn my identity as an American Muslim would be a hot topic in the media for years to come.
Another moment is burned into my memory: twelve years after 9/11, I walked toward a large crowd assembling outside the Memorial Union on my campus. In the center sat a man on a stool shouting anti-Islamic slurs with the Holy Quran placed on the ground under his feet. The next day, a group of Christian protesters stood outside the library holding up signs with Islamophobic statements and slurs. Students once again gathered around to see what the noise was about.
The unfortunate legacy of the tragedy of 9/11 has been one of religious conflict. This crowd protesting my faith was just one of many groups that came out of the woodwork in a post-9/11 America. This legacy had marginalized me and the many other Muslims on campus again and again.
But that day, I witnessed the power of love that our generation holds.
There was no response of anger, there was no violence. There was only unity in the crowd as people from all different backgrounds voiced their opinions against the protesters. Some students defended their Muslim friends and peers, while others said these protesters were misrepresenting the religion of Christianity. The Muslim students did not fight back with words, they did not try to change the protester’s mind. Instead, they decided to respond by gathering together and praying in congregation next to the crowd. Instantly, the attention of the crowd shifted from the hateful protesters to this peaceful response by the students. Seeing the power of this simple positive gesture, the protesters lost their momentum and the crowd began to shrink.
In the immediate aftermath of 9/11, I felt as if I had to sacrifice my Muslim identity in order to fit in as an American. But I could not be more wrong. It is through being a Muslim American that I have learned to embrace people of all beliefs. Though we may not see it on the news, religion is not something that divides people the way hate does. It is not a person’s love for their own religion that leads them to belittle others—it’s their hate. Those anti-Islamic protesters had been taught somewhere along the way to see Islam in a negative light. But when everyone spoke up for me and my Muslim identity that day, I realized I did not have to hide my faith. Rather, I could let it shine as the light that guides me to see the beauty in those around me.
It’s no secret that the protests will continue. Islamophobes are still out there. But the next time these protesters organize on campus, they will have to deal with the complexity of who we really are. They can no longer think of Muslims solely as angry terrorists on TV because we chose to respond with a prayer. Though we might not have changed their worldview, we planted some very important seeds.
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