Being Muslim in AMerica: A collection of thoughts and writing By: Asmaa Elshareif

1. Being Muslim in AMerica: A collection of thoughts and writing By: Asmaa Elshareif

3. In the name of God the most gracious, the most merciful…

4. hello! I am Asmaa Elshareif I am here share my experiences and critical views with you!

5. Table of Contents

6. Introduction As a Muslim American female born and raised in the United States, I have come to notice certain things. I did not always understand my own oppressions, nor did I have the tools necessary to analyze and protest them. Through my diversity studies, I now possess the frameworks, ideologies, and vocabulary to assist me in my expression and critical thinking of where Muslim and Arab people fit into American society. In this collection of writing, I include my own thoughts and critiques through various pieces of work. These writings are supplemented by my own experiences, sociology courses, race and ethnicity courses, Arab American courses, Arabic studies courses, and gender and women’s study courses. The purpose my research and writing is both to understand my own experiences and oppressions, as well as engage in discussion with those interested in my perspective and writing. It is not to say that it represents the experiences of all Muslim/Arab people, nor is it the only type of oppression that exists.

7. My goal Everyone was so quick to state that I was not like “them”; I was an exception to the Arabs they were talking about. But excusing me was just not enough this time. What about my brothers? What about my sister, mother, father, and grandmother? And how about my countless cousins, aunts, and uncles that I have never met because they live in the sealed off Gaza Strip? Were they excluded from “those Arabs”? It was in that moment that I decided to take on the responsibility of combating ignorance by educating others. I vowed that with whatever major I chose to study in college, I would complement it with a wide range of Arabic studies. From a minimally diverse high school, to one of the most diverse universities in the nation, I stand proud of where I come from and how it has affected my field of study. I am now involved in the Muslim Student Association, and Students for Justice in Palestine. I have worked on numerous events and fundraisers geared towards educating others on stereotypes and the oppression from the West that exists in the Arab world. Along with my core classes in statistics, I have taken some Arabic course in every semester thus far, including a special topics course about Arab American studies to educate myself about how to make information about Arab Americans accessible and comprehensible to the general public. Through my education and writing, my goal is to change the first word that comes to a student’s mind when he/she hears the word “Arab”. I attended a high school that had very minimal diversity. There was a total of three Arabs in my school; a boy who refused to acknowledge his Middle-Eastern heritage, my brother, and myself. Over the course of four years, I heard an unimaginable amount of racist jokes, slandering, and overall, plain ignorance towards Arabs. For some time, I stayed quiet. I was caught somewhere between wanting to avoid being a victim, and wanting to stand up for where I come from. It was during a history class one day when I made my decision. My teacher asked the class about the first thing that came to mind when she said the word “Arab”. It was the first time I had ever seen my peers so eager to participate in class. Terrorists. Suicide Bombers. Violent. Anti-American. Foreign. Oil Sheiks. Each response stabbed me until my tears were flowing freely down my face. Realization struck my classmates that they had stated such cruel stereotypes in front of their Arab colleague.

8. The word 'Islam' means 'peace.' The word 'Muslim' means 'one who surrenders to God.' But the press makes us seem like haters. --Muhammad Ali

9. Pre 9/11: The History of Anti-Arab/Anti-Muslim Sentiment in America Pre 9/11 Muslim experiences were not systematically studied until recent years. For this reason, many people actually believe that Arabs and Muslims are new to the US. Arabs and Muslims are not new to this country. As a matter of fact, they built this country from the ground up. Brought over as slaves from the Arab world by Spanish settlers, Arabs and Muslims worked the land and planted their seeds that would develop deep roots in America. Since the Arabs were brought over, they have experienced conflict and inequality. Arabs and Muslims suffered discrimination from the first wave of immigrants to the US. Degradation and isolation continued with time, political moments, media portrayal and coverage. Whether it was best to categorize them as black, white, Mongolian, or Asian, has also always been a question. Although all Arabs and Muslims in the US are commonly affected by US policies, it is also important to realize that immigrant Arabs and native-born Arabs have different experiences with racialization.

10. Immigrants: Besides the arrival of African and Arab slaves, Muslims immigrated to the US in varying degrees from the 1870s to World War II (Elver). During this time period, Arab/Muslim immigrants came predominantly from the Ottoman Empire (Syria, Palestine, Lebanon, Jordan). About 80% of Arab immigrants were non-Muslim, but they were never differentiated. During the era of The Great Migration, over 95,000 Arabs arrived from Greater Syria. By 1924, over 200,000 Arabs were living in the United States (Arab American National Museum). Muslim immigrants that arrived after WWII were more educated than their predecessors. From 1947 to 1960, there was a small influx of Muslims to the US from the Soviet, India, and Pakistan (Elver). After 1965 when US immigration policies changed to accommodate refugees, more than half of the people immigrating to the US were from the Middle East and Asia; many Muslim. Political events in the Middle East, such as the Iranian Islamic Revolution and Israel's attack on Egypt in 1967, also pushed more immigrants towards the west. In early years of immigration, Muslim status in society was parallel to second and third generation, non-European immigrants, but domestic and international political events changed this over time (Elver). The Iraqi war, for example, inspired many to flee towards the west as refugees, but due to development of American fear of Islam, the US began to restrict the qualifications of those deemed political refugees, limiting the number of immigrants allowed into the US from the Middle East and Northern Africa. Most of the Muslim and Arab immigrants of previous generations have tried to assimilate into American culture. Adopting the language and western lifestyle, many have stayed and started their own families with future generations yet to come.

11. Native Born After the events of World War II, several African countries underwent revolution and moved towards political rights. In African Americans, many Muslim, this inspired their own movement towards civil rights. The Black Nationalist Movement was set in motion towards liberationist and mass protest against US racial policies and treatment (Elver). The Nation of Islam by Elijah Muhammed appealed to the oppressed in retaliation against white Christian society as a whole. It served as weapon in destroying race relations in the US. As a result of the mass protesting, the number of African Americans in prison steadily rose just as Malcolm X rose into power. Many prisoners converted to Islam during this period and were even denied their religious rights in prison. Islam began to be recognized as a race with racial discrimination, not just a religion. The rise of segregation in the 1960s and multiculturalism and the abandonment of the US "melting pot" in the 70s further increased antagonization of Arabs and Muslims. Along with the 20 century also came new immigration policies. Denial of citizenship to certain categories of immigrants, limited entry of those from the Middle East to just 100 a year. In the 1930s, immigration policies further aggravated, restricting the already limited number of new entries to those with relatives already in the United States (Elver). As Islam continued to be racialized, it began gaining a lot of societal attention in the 1980s. Events such as the Iranian Islamic revolution in 1979 and the TWA hijacking in Lebanon in 1985 brought on negative portrayal of Muslims in American society. Mainstream media reflected a growing awareness of Muslims in the United States and began associating negative images with Islam. Islam is commonly viewed as a foreign sect. Terrorist activity is associated with Islam as portrayed in the media, promoting domestic, foreign, and "black separatism" prejudices. Anxiety and fear over terrorist associations have inevitably become a part of Muslims’ identity.Published by The New York Times, “A poll conducted by the American Muslim Council in the wake of the [1993 World Trade Center] bombing found that 43 percent of Americans think that Muslims are religious fanatics, while only 24 percent disagree.” During this time, editorials also claimed “admission of Muslims into the United States ought to be reduced to a minimum or eliminated altogether.” Muslims began to be used as scapegoats, blamed for any and all terrorist activity. The seeds of prejudice against Muslims and all Arabs alike had been planted, and hatred, negative imagery and symbolism, racial discrimination, and US policy have stemmed and branched ever since. Events such as 9/11 and beyond continued to change the everyday lives and experiences of Muslims in America.

12. Being Muslim has become synonymous with pointed questions, with tension and mistrust, even with conflict. It has become a global phenomenon with profound consequences for inter-communal relations, political rhetoric and policies at the local, regional, national and international level. --Tariq Ramadan

13. Coming to america: An Interview In 1979, Hussain made a big move. It was vast in both distance and cultural change. 1979 is the year when Hussain became the third of his 8 brothers to leave Gaza, Palestine to travel to the US. Little did he know, the move would be permanent. Hussain’s story represents that of many immigrants who came to the United States seeking opportunity with the intention of returning home. Like many others, Hussain faced many challenges, but eventually, he was able to find a routine and the US became his home and the home of his family. A journey prompted by thirst for education and by freedom from the tight borders of an illegal occupation would shape the hardworking man, patient father and involved citizen he is today. Hussain shares about his struggle with acclimating and resistance to completely assimilating in an interview. The little boy from the refugee camp would travel to an unknown land with strange customs and could never really return home.

14. Asmaa: Why did you want to come to America? Why not somewhere else? Hussain: Well, America is simply appealing. You have to consider the situation I was in; I was about 18 and just done with high school. I lived my whole life on a refugee camp with my 8 brothers and 5 sisters. I knew everyone in the neighborhood, every alleyway, every street, every store owner… it was all just familiar, boring. There were so many people and so little resources. When I graduated high school I had hardly any options. I needed to make money to help my dad, but everyone needed to make money and it was overpopulated. America was like the solution to all of this. It was all I heard about on the radio and on the neighbor’s TV -- because we didn’t have a TV yet. Plus, my oldest brother was already here, and he sent money for my ticket. Asmaa: How did your family feel about you leaving? Hussain: It was mixed. They would not hold me back from such an opportunity, but it was also hard to let go. I guess when I left… I guess they thought and I thought I would be coming back home after college. Four years seemed OK to handle; it’s not like we knew I wouldn’t be going home anytime soon. Otherwise, they would never let me go. The plan was to get an education, and go home. That didn’t happen though. Asmaa: When you first came here, what were the biggest challenges you faced? Hussain: It was hard to fit in. I did not know anyone else like me, besides my brother. I didn’t know any Arabs or Muslims. It was hard learning to do everything on my own. I lived near the city, and I couldn’t drive, so I had to learn how to get around with the L. I had an accent that I hated so much, and I don’t think people took me very seriously. School was hard because it wasn’t in my first language. “It was hard to fit in.”

15. Asmaa: What was your first impression of America? Hussain: Imagine living for 18 years in a refugee camp and never stepping foot outside of its borders. Now imagine seeing O’Hare Airport for the first time. It was a different world. Everyone was moving so fast, and no one was stopping to talk to each other. And it was summer when I came… the clothing! Oh my God, they were practically naked! I was so embarrassed and shocked at the amount of skin showing! … and everything was just so weird, so different. The buildings, the houses, the diversity. Asmaa: The weather here had to have also been very different than in Gaza. What was that like for you? Hussain: The year that I came was one of the worst winters in Chicago history. It was also my first encounter with snow. It was the coldest and most brutal things I have ever experienced. I still remember waiting for the Blue Line everyday, questioning why I ever came to this freezer. Asmaa: What were your goals? What did you want to accomplish here? Hussain: Well, the plan was to become a doctor… that didn’t quite happen. I just was not doing well. I was going to school full time and working full time trying to support myself and send some money back home. So, in 7 years, I switched school many times, and only got my associates degree and did an ultrasound program. Asmaa: When did it become a reality that you wouldn’t be going home so soon? Hussain: By the time I finally finished school, I knew I wanted a good job here. So I worked, and then knew I also wanted to get married. I did get married, and I only had my brothers here. My parents had only spoken to my wife over the phone, but had never met her. Asmaa: When you got married, did you still intend to go back home? Hussain: From the start of my marriage, I said I would take my wife and go back. I wanted to raise my family in Gaza; I wanted my parents to be part of my life. It was only after having my 4 kids that we went back for a visit. “Imagine living for 18 years in a refugee camp and never stepping foot outside of its borders. Now imagine seeing O’Hare Airport for the first time.”

16. Asmaa: When you went back, were things the same? How did you feel? Hussain: I went back feeling like an outsider. I hadn’t seen my parents in almost 20 years. All of my siblings were married, and all of the kids I knew were having kids of their own. I also realized that I didn’t belong there anymore. I couldn’t handle being without electricity for the majority of the day. I hated that there was no hot water. Indoor plumbing was scarce. It just wasn’t the life I knew or wanted anymore. Asmaa: What made you feel like you didn’t belong? Hussain: There is one moment that stands out to me… you know over there, the stores don’t have prices on everything. This way the owner raises and lowers prices as he pleases. Usually, foreigners are charged more because they are expected to be richer. I knew I was an outsider when the store owners would overcharge me. They would ask where I was from because I didn’t speak quite the same that they did. Even they knew I didn’t belong, and so I knew I didn’t belong either. Asmaa: Did you feel like you belonged in America? Hussain: That’s an interesting thing to think about. I felt always like I am too American to be in Gaza, but I was also to Arab to be in America. Asmaa: In what ways did you become more Americanized or assimilated? Hussain: You know, I tried so hard to lose my accent. I don’t even have one anymore. I used to spend hours listening to the radio and watching the TV mimicking how they spoke. And Americans are so nasally; I used to hold my nose and practice talking like them. Asmaa: Do you feel like you lost part of who you are by coming here? Hussain: At first, I really did. I didn’t just feel that way, I did lose myself. At home, my mom used to call me a “sheikh” because I never missed a prayer. When I came here, there was no “athaan” (call to prayer), and so I didn’t pray. Also, I forgot about Ramadan that year, and I forgot Eid. I don’t know how I could forget these things. I just thought I was the only Arab here. When I got married, my wife reintroduced me to all these things “AlhamdAllah” (thank God). “You know, I tried so hard to lose my accent. I don’t even have one anymore.”

17. I felt always like I am too American to be in Gaza, but I was also to Arab to be in America. --Hussain Elshareif

18. Arab-American Literature

19. Typically, when we consider Arabic literature, we think about works that originated in the Middle East. Nowadays, with nearly 3 million Arabs in the United States, Arab-American literature makes up its own genre. Since a large influx of Arabs made their way to the States in the 1800’s, Arab-American literature has been on the rise. Bridging the gap between the East and the West, Arab-Americans incorporate their Middle Eastern roots with their American lifestyles to express themselves, educate their readers, and make their voices heard.

20. The Arabs, like any other ethnic group, found themselves struggling to maintain their Middle Eastern heritage and traditions in the United States. This proved to be difficult in the heavily assimilationist context of the country. As Lisa Suhair Majaj states in “Arab-American Literature: Origins and Developments, “Newspapers and journals published debates about how to preserve Arab identity in the American-born generation, even as they discussed practical matters of integration. Complicating the process of Americanization were racial definitions of American identity which threatened to exclude Arabs.” With an ethnic identity crisis on their hands, Arab-Americans were not quite Arab enough for their countries anymore, nor were they American enough for American society. Thus, Arab-American culture was born. The literary pieces that emerged during these times were heavily based on the Arabs’ need to prove themselves worthy of the American title while still maintaining their cultural backgrounds. By the 1910’s several literary societies and journals came into existence, and in 1920 the literary organization Al Rabita al Qalamaiyya (The Pen League) was established by a group of authors, including Kahlil Gibran and Ameen Rihani. These authors, who wrote both in Arabic and English, founded what is known as the Mahjar (émigré) school of Arab-American writing. Although they had their greatest impact on Arabic literature, these writers made conscious effort as serving as bridges between the gap of the East and West. Majaj also states that they even “actively sought to establish philosophical meeting points between Arab and American ideologies and contexts, even as they invoked poetic forebears of both east and west—from Al-Mutanabbi, Al-Farid, and al-Maari to Homer, Virgil, Milton, Emerson and Thoreau”. The founder of the Mahjar would create a template of Arabic literature that Arab-Americans would later try to transform. With the Johnson-Reed Quota Act that came about in the 1920’s, the United States began to significantly limit the number of new immigrants allowed into the country. “In the absence of ongoing contact with the home culture, Arab-Americans went so far in the assimilation process that some historians have described them as being in danger of assimilating themselves out of existence” (Majaj). Arabs in America became very hesitant to link their literary work with any trace of their Middle Eastern heritage. Fortunately however, in the 1960’s, this all began to change. With the rise of the Civil Rights and Black Power Movements, it was easier for ethnic minority groups to have a voice.

21. “With the publication of works by African Americans, Jewish Americans, Asian Americans and others, Arab-Americans found it easier to write about their ethnic heritage and find publishers and audiences, even as demographic changes resulted in more Arab-Americans' turning to literature and the arts as a form of self-expression” (Majaj). The war of 1967 only further inspired Arabs in America to take pride in their Middle Eastern roots and represent their people. Along with these political movements, the number of Arab immigrants from the Middle East was also on the rise. The new generation of immigrants was more educated and politically involved than their predecessors, and they demanded a voice in politics, literature, and American society. Instead of isolating their Arab or American aspects of identity, they embraced both. Arabs in America evolved into Arab-Americans. Arab-American culture and literature continued to flourish until 9/11. Following the attacks of September 11, 2001, Arabs and Muslims in America were singled out and associated with terrorism. Arab-American writers, post 9/11, “have used their work to challenge and help heal the objectification and de-humanization of their community that has taken place since then” (Arabs in America). Through their compositions, Arab-Americans have fought to dispel any negativity associated with Arabs that may challenge their American worthiness. Authors such as Mohja Kahf and poets such as Suheir Hammad have emerged from the societal attack and stereotypes on Arab-Americans. Both of these women strongly express their disagreement with the assumptions being made about Arab-Americans. Although they both strongly embrace their Middle Eastern heritage, they express that they are just as American as anyone else in this country. These two bold women represent a new generation of Arab-Americans who are not afraid of public opinion. Each simply has a voice that she demands to be heard. Mohja Kahf’s works generally incorporate her American life with her Arab roots. A major component of this integration is portrayed simply through her language; “Kahf’s integration of Arab and American identity occurs partly through language. Her writing draws on both American colloquialisms and Quranic suras; it is informed by American free verse, with its tendency toward tonal subtleties and understated imagery, yet is imbued with an energy that draws on the heart of the Arabic oral tradition and Arabic poetry” (Majaj).

22. Refusing to choose just one side of her cultural identity, Kahf consciously intertwines the East and the West in her work to bridge the very existent cultural gap. Contrary to many modern- female Arab writers, Kahf even include erotic and explicit language in her works. She uses her Arab background to inspire her works while incorporating American language to complement it. Needless to say, she writes openly and freely, and most importantly, without apology. While Mohja tends to deliver her message through novel and character, Suheir Hammad prefers free-verse oral poetry. As an American-raised daughter of Palestinian-refugee parents, Hammad lyricizes the dualism of being an Arab-American and the harsh realities of life for those here and in Palestine. This Arab-American feminist absolutely insists that American face the reality of their oppression towards not only Arabs, but also all minority groups, even the Native Americans. Coming from Brooklyn, her voice represents a diverse group of all minorities in the US, usually by focusing on her own Middle Eastern identity. Hammad’s work specifically appeals to the younger generation of American-born Arabs, for she fully depicts the “doubleness” of life that exists for Arab-Americans. With the emergence of the Arab Spring, Arab-Americans continue to challenge American society with their literary voices. As more and more attention and accusation is placed on the Arab world, Arab-Americans only have to fight harder and harder to breech all stereotypes. From the very rise of Arab-American literature through the Civil Rights movement, and 9/11, to the modern era, Arabs have always been fighting and will continue to fight to ensure that their voices are heard. Today, Arab-American literature has emerged as a literature in its own right, with younger writers able to take for granted the existence of a community, both ethnic and literary.

23. Disney’s Aladdin Orientalism at its finest

24. As one of the largest production companies in the world, Disney has been influencing people of all ages since its birth in 1923. From Snow White to The Sleeping Beauty to Cinderella, viewers absorbed the fantastical worlds of beautiful, white princesses. It was not until 1992 when Disney took a different turn for a more exotic fairytale. Jewish lyricist, Howard Ashman, pitched the idea for a new and exciting screenplay, unlike anything Disney ever produced. It took three drafts of the screenplay before Disney’s president, Jeffrey Katzenberg – also Jewish – agreed to the production of Aladdin. The movie, like almost all Disney movies, begins with an opening song written by Alan Menken to capture the viewers’ attention. As a child or even as an unsuspecting adult, the song is catchy and fun, full of scenes of great imagery and vivid color. Upon closer observation, anyone can see the obvious degradation. The first stanzas of the song go as follows: Oh, I come from a land, from a faraway place, where the caravan camels roam.Where it’s flat and immense, and the heat is intense.It’s barbaric, but hey, it’s home. Already, the audience is introduced with a framework to use as a guide of understanding the “exoticism” of the people in the movie. The Middle East is described as “a far away place.” Surely somewhere a ways away from the west. Then comes the association between Arabs and camels, aimlessly roaming the desert in the intense heat. The song is also accompanied by vivid images depicting Arabs as greedy and searching for gold. To top it all off, Disney goes ahead and starts the movie off by labeling Arabs as “barbaric.” So we continue to the next lines of the song: Oh, I come from a land, from a faraway place, where the caravan camels roam.Where they cut off your earIf they don’t like your faceIt’s barbaric, but hey, it’s home. Again, it is reiterated that the audience is about to view a land far away full of camels and caravans, but where does the next line tie in? Apparently Arabs will “cut off your ear if they don’t like your face” … since when? Then again, it is further emphasized that this is a “barbaric” place; don’t forget that for these people “it’s home.” The barbarianism is further emphasized by showing that every male character has a sword of some sort and is quick to use it. For example, Aladdin is chased by policemen with swords for stealing a loaf of bread. Obviously, the target audience of this film is westerners. Disney attempts to provide an explanation for people and ideas that are unlike the West; however, the majority of the audience fails to understand that the idea of the Orient is simply that, an idea. It serves as a way to create a binary between “us” and “them – i.e. the Orient and the West. By creating this binary, it is easier to dehumanize those who do not fit into the category of familiarity. By dehumanizing the Arabs, the West is able to validate its negative portrayal and treatment of the Middle East.

25. Most of the negative portrayal of the Arabs in the movie comes from the depiction of Arabs as barbaric and uncivilized. The audience is quick to learn about thieves and conmen and street rats that exist in this “Arabia.” Our main character, Aladdin, begins his journey as a thief in tattered clothing, roaming the streets with his monkey friend. Two things to consider at this point: he is still going by the name Aladdin, and he is stealing a loaf of bread to survive. The point made in the movie about Aladdin’s name is subtle but significant. While Aladdin is portrayed as uncivil and savage, he continues to call himself Aladdin, meaning nobility of religion in Arabic; however, when Aladdin attempts to be more civilized and or royalty, he says, “Just call me Al.” How interesting that when Aladdin is shown to be a thief, he goes by an Arabic name with ties to Islam, but when he is a prince and shown to be a good person, he westernizes himself with the name Al. Furthermore, why does Disney try to tie in Islam in general? This film is overall very secular and displays a very western Oriental view of the Middle East, yet several references are made to Allah (swt), as if the characters are Muslim. This only feeds into the ignorance that all Arabs are Muslims. Aladdin also feeds into many stereotypes associated with the Orientalist view. For example, the entire city of Agrabah may as well be a harem. The women are all scantily clad, swaying about with impossibly tiny waists, not to mention the exaggerated cat-eye look in every female character. This not only dehumanizes Arabs as a binary, but also objectifies Arabian women. There is even a scene where Jafar, the villain, has Jasmine under his rule and dresses her to his liking in a provocative red number, degrading Arabs to being over-sexualized, and then falsely tying this image back to Islam. Disney also uses very subtle manipulation to enhance the binary gap between the East and the West. It is no coincidence that the villains in this movie are darker than the protagonists with seemingly stereotypical Middle Eastern features. Jafar is the darkest tones character with a larger nose and beard than anyone else. In the opening scene, we also see that the conmen and thieves all have larger noses and beards. It is also interesting to note that Aladdin, Jasmine, and all other protagonist characters have American accents, whereas the villains do not. This shows that there is hope for Arabs who do try to westernize and become civil. The representation of villains in general is an interesting case. In Snow White our villain is fictional with evil powers. The same applies to The Sleeping Beauty and Beauty and the Beast. Why, then, does Disney choose to make the villains groups of real people this time? Let us remember, in every Disney movie, the villain is always defeated; good always beats evil.

26. Does that not give the impression that the Arabs/Muslims are bad, and they will be defeated? Although some may say that there was fantasy/magic involved with the villains in the movie, let us not forget that the Orientalist framework actually associates the Middle East with a mysterious form genies/witchcraft. In this sense, Aladdin no only dehumanizes Arabs, but also villianizes them. It is interesting to consider the release and reception of this movie. It was released in 1992, when talks of a “new world order” and the “shadows of war in the Middle East” came about. The movie is rated G for all general audiences, despite themes of sexuality and violence. In its opening weekend, the movie grossed nearly $20 million. As of January 2014, it is the thirtieth highest grossing animated film and the third highest grossing traditionally animated feature worldwide. According to Rotten Tomatoes, 94% of film critics gave Aladdin a positive review, with an average score of 8/10. So, overall, the movie was received very well by general audiences, but that in itself should be a concern! A good portion of the world is familiar with this film, yet not many people recognize the ignorance it is promoting. It is understandable that children may not realize the implications made in this movie, but the adults who laugh along to the stereotypes only feed into the ignorance and promote filmmakers to continue and go further with the vulgarity displayed in movies. All I’m saying is: let’s think twice about what we expose our children to.

27. “Random” checks

28. Consider the following situation: you are heading to the airport to catch your flight. You arrive at least two hours prior to departure, yet you still miss your flight. What went wrong? The answer: you are Muslim, or appear stereotypically Muslim; therefore, you got stuck in “random” security checks. For females, appearing Muslim means wearing a hijab, or perhaps traditional clothing. For males, this means having a beard, or being a shade browner than white. It can also mean speaking Arabic, Urdu, Farsi, or some other “Muslim-sounding” language, which is used to generally categorize people as pan-Arab. Personal experiences and recent studies show that random security checks at airports are not so random after all. In the post 9/11 era, structural and cultural racisms strongly influence the racial profiling of Arabs and Muslims, especially within airport security.

29. An airport is an institution with mandated regulations and securities in place to protect the people. Although there may not be an explicit mandate ordering a scan of all Muslim people, the influence of structural racism enforces this. When discussing structural racisms, it is also important to recognize ties with its synonymous counterpart: systemic racism. Systemic racism is an accumulation of racist practice that develops over time. It is grander than just a few racist individuals; rather, it is engrained in laws and institutions (Golash-Boza 87). Although it may not necessarily be implemented by law, it is influenced by government policies. Racism and racial profiling in airports exemplify institutional racism. An implementation of racial discrimination in law is illegal; however, as Ellen Baker articulates, “Such profiling is not necessarily illegal discrimination. Under these circumstances, the profiling is in response to a ‘specific threat to commit a specific crime (more suicide hijackings) made by a specific group (the Islamic terrorists of al-Qaeda).’ This type of profiling has been endorsed in federal court” (9). In turn, there are ways around discrimination laws to validate that the practice is to protect the people from perceived high-risk groups. It is “endorsed”, as she states, but not a federal mandate.

30. Why do people accept this type of discriminatory profiling? Golash-Boza does an exceptional job of explaining this throughout Race and Racisms: A Critical Approach. She discusses the feelings that often lead to discriminatory practices: those of superiority, proprietary claims of privilege, and the feeling that “other” groups may be subordinate/alien (Golash-Boza). This can be applied to the west’s perception of the orient that is associated with Arabs and Muslims. Orientalism also rationalizes the cultural racism associated with racial profiling. By suggesting that Middle Easterners are different than everyone else, even savage, it is easier to justify discrimination. “If the ultimate goal of the dominant race is to defend its collective interests (i.e., the perpetuation of systemic white privilege), it should surprise no one that this group develops rationalizations to account for the status of the various races” (Bonilla-Silva 2). This is especially true, post 9/11.

31. “After September 11, the American public generally seems to favor the use of racial profiling to potentially increase the level of safety of airline travel. This attitude is illustrated in the results of several polls taken in the days immediately following the terrorist attacks.” She notes, “A Los Angeles Times poll found that 68% of the people questioned approved ‘randomly stopping people who may fit the profile of suspected terrorists’” (Baker 7). This shows how pre-existing stigmas, mixed with fear, give way to institutional racism. It becomes almost natural to create extreme binary between good Americans and Bad Muslims/Arabs (as they are so commonly grouped). “Muslims have come under attack by their fellow citizens as a result of the belief they are a monolithic group that is a threat to American society. Consequently they are treated as if they are unworthy of the universal protections afforded by American citizenship”(Selod 2). Therefore, by associating fear and inferiority with race/ethnicity, unjust random checks seem acceptable, both to airport security, and those who witness them.

32. Arabs and Muslims were undermined by the west’s idea of the orient long before 9/11; however, the attacks served as a breaking point. It was at that point when mass racial profiling became acceptable and more frequently practiced by institutions. Security measures taken in most airports nowadays exemplify cultural and structural racism. Specific security workers may not be actively racist, but the larger institutions they work for, and society in general, endorse discriminatory practice. A potential way to combat this is to ask why you are being “randomly” checked while someone else is not, or vice versa. Ask about how the randomization is implemented?Know the rights associated with being searched, questioned, and discriminated against. Most importantly, know that everyone deserves those basic rights, both by the law, and as humans in general.

33. American Muslims - young American Muslims in particular - are starting to understand that unless they are willing to stand up for all the other oppressed communities in this country, including those discriminated against for their gender or sexuality, then no one will stand up for them. -- Reza Aslan

34. Race in the media Race in the media is not always obviously or consciously perceived. There are so many ways to imply racist ideologies in the media and in advertisements, but it is not always addressed directly. Through my own discussions, I have found that most people agreed that we each have our own hesitations about confronting our perceptions and knowledge of the stereotypes around us. As we often see in the media, common stereotypes associated with Arabs include targets of racial discrimination, terrorists, etc. The media serves as a system of racism that saturates the public with certain narratives of others that become the dominant story we know about different groups. I have noticed both personally, and on a grander institutional scale that not many people are familiar with the conflicts surrounding Palestine and the Middle East in general; therefore, the narratives presented in the media are taken as fact. Women are stereotypically perceived as oppressed and exotic, and men are seen as sheiks and terrorists. This is created through the media’s social construct of orientalism; the Middle East is made to be a far-away land, far too different from the west to be considered “normal”.

35. How the Media Directly Affects Me An autobiographical narrative

36. Naturally, when I turn on the TV, I try to find something of interest. Most often, this means I look for something relatable; someone who looks like me or shares common cultural upbringing with me. Unfortunately, it is becoming increasingly uncommon to find a positive portrayal of Arabs and Muslims in the media. I consider it a rarity. Thus, I have become more and more hesitant to listen to prime time news outlets. Never do I feel more marginalized than the times Arabs and Muslims are mentioned in the media. “A Muslim man was arrested for...” “A woman in a hijab was asked to leave the plane...” “An Arab, Muslim boy brought a clock to school...” Snippets as such echo in my home, filling the silence as my family listens on. Singled out by ethnicity and religious belief, it is hard to ignore the implied accusations and assumptions. It’s difficult and embarrassing, and it affects me way more than it should. Why aren’t Christian, white men and women defined by their race and beliefs when described?

37. Why is a white man a labelled a shooter in a movie theater with potential mental issues, but another man labelled a Muslim terrorist of Middle Eastern descent in a nightclub? Crime is crime, a life taken is a life taken, there should be no hierarchy of crime based on the cultural background and religious beliefs of the criminal.

38. In the media, being Arab/Muslim is exploited and emphasized in such a dehumanizing way. Listening to developing news stories, I find myself hoping the main subject is not Arab or Muslim. When they are, I feel responsible. I feel held responsible by the long, subtle stares I notice on the train. I feel isolated when no one sits next to me on the Metra; when my seat is the only empty seat, yet people prefer to stand and balance on the bumpy tracks. Now, more than ever, I am paranoid. I have been warned not to be so blatantly Muslim, to cover my hair with hats instead of a hijab.

39. My mom fears that my Palestinian pride is too loud for a society trying to silence my presence

40. In the media, being Arab/Muslim is exploited and emphasized in such a dehumanizing way. Listening to developing news stories, I find myself hoping the main subject is not Arab or Muslim. When they are, I feel responsible. I feel held responsible by the long, subtle stares I notice on the train. I feel isolated when no one sits next to me on the Metra; when my seat is the only empty seat, yet people prefer to stand and balance on the bumpy tracks. Now, more than ever, I am paranoid. I have been warned not to be so blatantly Muslim, to cover my hair with hats instead of a hijab.

41. I have never been so aware of who I am and what I represent in the media. Because of this, I find myself needing to defend who I am. It is not something conscious, nor do I want to feel this way, but it is inevitable. Subconsciously, I find myself making small gestures to show that I am Muslim and Palestinian, but I am still American. I am a decent human being. I hold doors open, and I let people off the train in front of me. Most importantly, I hold my bag in my lap to make room next to me, even if no one ever wants to sit there.

42. Muslims are ordinary members of the working public, just like you. --G. WIllow Wilson Thank you for reading