When I was writing this piece for Layali Webzine, I was asked by one of its editors on whether or not I was afraid as a Muslim American in the wake of so many tragedies around the world. I had to take a second to think about it. It wasn't a simple yes or no answer.
I looked back at the 27 years of being Muslim in America and being able to practice my faith in this country, my country. I thought of the many times I was able to pray in public without fear. The day I chose to wear the hijab in fourth grade, despite my parents' hesitation, I knew I would be supported by loving neighbors, classmates and friends.
My faith has always been the foundation of my identity. My character. My style. The hijab has never been just a piece of fabric on my head, but it was and still is me.
Read the full story here.
I looked back at the 27 years of being Muslim in America and being able to practice my faith in this country, my country. I thought of the many times I was able to pray in public without fear. The day I chose to wear the hijab in fourth grade, despite my parents' hesitation, I knew I would be supported by loving neighbors, classmates and friends.
My faith has always been the foundation of my identity. My character. My style. The hijab has never been just a piece of fabric on my head, but it was and still is me.
Read the full story here.