Guest Editorial By Yasmene Shalaby-Essalah
Photo courtesy of Yasmene Shalaby-Essalah.
Yasmene Shalaby-Essalah celebrates Christmas with students at Pleasant Grove High School.
I am a teacher. I am a mother. I am an American. I am a fan of Taylor Swift. I am a resident of Homewood. And I am a Muslim.
I was born and raised in Alabama and have become more and more disenchanted with many people who share my religion. I see people at the mosque with whom I should feel camaraderie, but because of the way they dress and look, I distance myself from them.
Do I, like other Americans, fear others because of the way they look? How absurd and how hypocritical do I feel since I too am a Muslim? I allow myself to be influenced by the anti-Muslim sentiment, but who can deny the fact that the people committing these horrific crimes are (sadly) in many ways like me. They are American born, raised and educated, so I ask myself, what went wrong? Why? How are they different from me?
I grew up in the ‘90s, and I keep having flashbacks of that R.E.M. song, “Losing My Religion.” That song captures what I am feeling today, but really, am I losing my religion? No, I love my religion and do not consider those who are extremists Muslims at all.
I wish more traditional or average Muslims (Sunni, Shiite and Ismaili) would tell everyone that Islam means peace. We greet each other with “Asalam Alaykum,” which means “peace be upon you.” Why are we not greeting others with this message of peace and goodwill?
As a teacher, I have encountered students time and again who are taken aback when they discover I am a Muslim. Their response is always the same: “Ms. Shalaby, are you really a Muslim? I can’t believe it ... you’re so nice.”
I am always so saddened that my students equate Muslims with all things evil. I am proud and happy that many times in the past 10 years I have given them a positive image of a Muslim.
Last night I had to answer my 7-year old child’s question: “Momma, does that mean that if that man [referring to Donald Trump] becomes president, Mema [her grandmother in Morocco] won’t be able to visit us again?”
I was so saddened that my child asked me this. I want her to feel happy and proud to be an American Muslim — terms that I believe are harmonious.
I am writing this and hoping to have it read with one goal in mind: I want the people I live next door to, shop with and mix with every week at ALDI and Target to understand that we (meaning Muslims) are not all bad. We (meaning all Americans) must work together to find a solution to terrorism, and hopefully Islam can be associated with what it truly is: a religion of peace.
