As a Muslim American Mom – Fighting for My Country, My Children

As a Muslim American Mom – Fighting for My Country, My Children August 23, 2016

But several things have shifted since I grew up here. Based on a recent study by the Southern Poverty Law Center, I know that Muslim children, along with their Latino and African American classmates, are experiencing unprecedented levels of bullying and harassment. As a Muslim mom, I must anticipate that the animus directed at my children is likely to be far more intentional, and even violent. I no longer have to worry that their teachers have never heard of Islam, but I do have to worry that some will harbor a hatred of all Muslims. I have to worry not only that my children will be treated badly because they are brown, but also singled out with greater suspicion and contempt because they are a certain kind of brown.

I am, for better or worse, a part of that generation that takes parenting very seriously. I am painfully aware of the considerable health and mental health effects of bullying on children. I am also aware that our ability to parent effectively is compromised by our own stress and anxiety, and the increased risk that we will experience harassment or assault. Every time we watch the news or scroll through our newsfeeds, we see distortions of our faith tradition beyond recognition. Mainstream news outlets seem to have accepted the assertions of terrorists that their actions are driven and justified by Islam. In this election cycle, regardless of the outcome, we have learned that there is a strong and volatile white nationalist movement in this country. These things, alone, are terrifying.

This is the damage that has already been done. For my part, I’ve decided that for as long as we remain here, I have an obligation to fight for my country. Not by donning a military uniform, but by fully embracing the job of Muslim American mom today: giving presentations on Islamophobia and bullying to area school boards, creating stronger Muslim institutions, building interfaith alliances, shoring up my children’s sense of strength and faith, and being politically engaged.

Still, I will be forced to plan for our departure if the Republican nominee gets into office this November. It sounds extreme, even as I write, but so does a President who has campaigned successfully on closing mosques, surveilling Muslim communities, imposing a ‘complete ban’ on Muslims’ ability to enter the country, and lurid stories of killing Muslims with bullets dipped in pig blood. So does a President who has greater support “among the leaders of the KKK than leaders of the political party he now controls,” in the words of United States Senator Elizabeth Warren.

I’ve written before that I was deeply influenced by time spent with Herbert Brun, the composer who escaped Nazi Germany at the age of 15. He had remarkably little interest in talking to me about music, but ended each of our conversations with a seemingly random exhortation to be sure that my passport was in order. These are times that merit putting one’s passport in order. That, in fact, would be the easiest part of a migration away from my home.

Many African Americans feel the sea change of being able to point to President Obama and say to their children, “See, you can do anything. You are of value,” and many democrats argue that it is time to elect Secretary Clinton and say the same to girls. As a Muslim mom, it is my job to make choices that demonstrate to my children that they are of immense value. What message would it send to raise them in a country where the President openly derides their faith tradition? What quality of life could I expect for them under a Republican presidency if the campaigns alone have driven such a dramatic increase in violence against Muslims?

I have always known that I would need to prepare my children, as racial and religious minorities, to handle the kind of covert racism and ignorance I experienced with my teachers, and the hypocrisy I experienced with my childhood friend. Those experiences were not easy, but they were not crises. Through them, I developed the ability to speak loudly and clearly, to carry myself with dignity, to listen carefully, and to learn. They were the inevitable challenges of taking part in the great project of pluralism. In that project we are offered the divine opportunity to reach across gender and color, across nation, language and tribe “that we might come to know one another,” as the Quran describes.

But today’s Republican rhetoric-turned-platform would deny me, and would deny my children, a place at the table altogether. It drives a fundamental shift in what I have understood to be the ideals of my country. It says that America is not, and should not be, all of ours, together. It subverts the blessed opportunity of pluralism and replaces it with fear, contempt and violence. And so this election is, for me, not simply about choosing a President, but about surveying my countrymen’s vision for the future of America.

*Names have been changed to protect privacy.

Sofia Ali-Khan is a Muslim American public interest lawyer and writer. Her recently viral post, “Dear Non-Muslim Allies,” and other writings can be found at sofiaalikhan.com. A version of this article originally appeared in Altmuslimah, which is not affiliated with Altmuslim.


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