As a very new Muslim at the end of my first ever Ramadan I believe Islam should come with a warning label, but not for the reason many non-Muslims might think. WARNING: Ramadan may cause addiction to Islam and community. The first week of Ramadan was overwhelming. While I had…
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As a white, American-born, new Muslim the hostile social pressure that’s constantly pelting me like rocks should be breaking me right now. Yet, the exhausting and ultimately, inspiring experience of my first Ramadan is acting as a shield, despite the challenges. People keep asking me why, at the height of…
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<< From the AltMuslimah Archives >>
Part of me wants to apologize for the relative melodrama of this title. I concede, of course, that my own experiences pale in comparison to the racially-based oppression John Howard Griffin recorded in his famous account of segregation in the American South.
Seven years ago, I married a wonderful woman. My wife-to-be was an Arab-American Muslim and I was a Cuban-American Muslim. Both she and I considered our ethnic identities incidental; after all, although my Cuban family raised me and she was brought up by her Algerian parents, we both shared the “American” after the hyphen, which made us quite compatible. For starters, English was our stronger language. We also had a similar taste in books and films, shared congruous views on the philosophy and practice of our faith, and both knew who “The Simpsons” were. We were a perfect fit, or so we thought.
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