Muslim in America

I am a Muslim. I am an American.

I am not a Muslim-American because my religion does not qualify my citizenship.

I was born in Connecticut to two doctors who legally entered the country to further their education and career, with the bonus of being able to openly practice their faith. My parents taught me to be proud of my religion, Pakistani heritage, and American citizenship.

Beginning at a young age, I was told that as a Muslim—in a predominantly Christian community—the burden fell on me to exemplify all that is good within Islam. I was constantly reminded that I could be the first Muslim someone might meet, so the way I presented myself would follow a person throughout their life.

I was in kindergarten when the 9/11 attacks occurred and parents told their children not to play with me. I was frustrated and felt like a failure. If I was a better Muslim, would the towers still be standing? If I worked harder, would I still have friends? Only two years later, on a school trip to New York, did I realize that the act of violence impacted me more as an American than as a Muslim. I remember my father standing solemnly next to me as we looked on to Ground Zero. He explained to me, for the hundredth time, that the loss of life was a huge blow to the country and could not be blamed on the religion of Islam. Since that day, I and countless other Muslims around the world have had to come to the defense of Islam after attacks, rather than be able to mourn the loss of life of our fellow citizens.

As you prepare for the upcoming election, please remember that the hate-filled rhetoric surrounding people of different colors, races, and religions does not describe those people. Go out into the world and introduce yourself to people you wouldn’t typically approach. Ask people for their stories and share your own. As Americans, we have a responsibility to understand and protect our fellow citizens.