Muslim students maintain faith amidst challenges

Each time the news came on that week in early February, junior Jordan Turner either changed the channel or left his kitchen. As newsreel after newsreel focused on the violent protests in the Middle East, Turner, a recent convert to Islam, found it difficult to watch the news with his Christian parents.

Although Turner insists that his parents didn't purposely try to make him feel uncomfortable, he nonetheless felt a sense of expectation from them, as if they wanted him to explain why the Muslims on TV were reacting so violently to the reprinting of the Mohammed cartoons in European newspapers that week. But as images of burning flags and embassies flashed across the screen, Turner found himself at a loss for words. All that remained was embarrassment and anger that his "brothers in faith" would go against his religion's peaceful teachings.

Turner's frustration is common among American Muslims, who have to deal with prejudices resulting from the widespread, but false, associations between mainstream Islam and terrorism. Since the 9/11 attacks, discrimination against Muslims in the U.S. has been a growing concern, says Rabiah Ahmed, a spokesperson for the Council on American-Islamic Relations. A March 9 Washington Post-ABC News poll only accentuates the trend: The percentage of Americans with a negative impression of Islam has increased seven percent — from 39 to 46 — since the planes crashed into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, the poll states.

For Turner and other Muslims at Blair, those seven percentage points are more than just numbers. Addressing the misconceptions about Islam that they represent — whether through finding their source, coping with their ramifications or trying to correct them — isn't as simple as switching the channel or walking away.

Below the surface

Ahmed explains that the media is one of two main factors behind the common association between Islam and terrorism: Both on TV and on the radio, Muslims are often portrayed as violent. The link is only reinforced when the government, specifically the Bush administration, fails to distinguish between the overwhelming majority of Muslims, who are peaceful, and the violent extremist minority, she says.

Although this may not be apparent at first, one need only look at the recent debate over giving an Arab country control of U.S. ports to see how deep the prejudice runs, Ahmed says. The opposition against giving an Arab country control, she says, comes from all political parties, which indicates that objections to the idea lie deeper than partisan ties. "It might not be on the surface, this discrimination, but when you look into the hearts and minds of Americans, they don't trust the Arab world," she explains.

Turner thinks that this distrust has been part of the American subconscious since long before 9/11. He points out that after the Oklahoma City bombings in 1995, many people claimed to have seen Arabs running from the scene of the crime, even though the perpetrators turned out to be two white men.

Although sophomore Areeb Quasem generally agrees with Turner, he does not think that the media deliberately links Islam and terrorism. According to Quasem, it's human nature to pay more attention to controversial, violent events — which is why, no matter how many imams preach the peaceful nature of Islam, it is always the latest bloody explosion that makes the front page of the newspapers.

What the front page doesn't show, though, is how Muslims like Quasem and Turner are finding places to practice their faith ree of discrimination.

Finding a safe haven

After school on March 10, room 131 has become that place. With the 2:10 p.m. bell, the room has transformed into a makeshift mosque with red and green prayer rugs spread out on the linoleum floor. Members of the Muslim Students Association (MSA), of which Quasem and Turner are president and vice president, respectively, sit on each rug, partaking in the jumuah, or Friday prayer.

When the prayer is complete, the four students fold up their prayer rugs and move about silently, reluctant to break the sense of peace — a peace that doesn't just stay in room 131 but extends up and down Blair Boulevard. The school's diversity produces an open, respectful atmosphere, says senior Samira Farah. Blazers are more likely to be curious about Farah's Islamic name and head scarf than they are to discriminate against her because of her religion, she says.

Although Turner agrees with Farah that Blair is generally an accepting school, he has nonetheless experienced some discrimination. He recalls one incident in particular when a student he had previously considered a friend asked him how his "terrorist training camp" had been. When Turner and other students told him that his comment was offensive, the student only persisted, asking Turner if he had met Osama bin Laden and about his "trip to Afghanistan." After 10 minutes, Turner moved to another seat. The next day, Turner wore his kufi, a religious cap worn by male Muslims, to school for the first time. He would not let anyone make him feel ashamed of his religion, he says.

Discrimination against Muslims is more common in areas less diverse than Silver Spring, says Farah. During a discussion on Islam at a Red Cross conference on international human rights in Arizona in June 2004, Farah remembers a girl from an all-white neighborhood in California making offensive comments about Muslims, stereotyping them as Arabs and terrorists. The girl's words were met with stares and silence.

Farah was shocked; she had never heard anything like that before. "After a while, you forget that there are people like that out there," she says.

Afterwards, when Farah confronted the girl, the girl explained that in the environment in which she was raised, the link between Muslims and terrorism had never been questioned. After talking to Farah, the girl said she would work on changing her prejudices.

One person at a time

Person-to-person communication like Farah's is the best way to break the association between Islam and terrorism, according to Ahmed. When two people know each other personally, she says, they realize that they share the same fears and are more alike than they are different.

At an early March meeting of the MSA, Quasem had the chance to dispel misconceptions that his friend, junior Mati Ayana, a Christian, and another female student had about Islam. They came to the club meeting and asked questions about how Islam viewed women and Jesus and how Muslims prayed. Quasem was happy to see that some people were willing not only to tolerate Islam but also to better understand its teachings.

The MSA plans to further spread Islam's message by organizing an interfaith meeting between groups of students at Blair, says Quasem. Junior Margaret Khan, a member of the MSA, says that the club also hopes to do a teach-in with an imam, a priest and a rabbi.

Changing the negative impression of Islam in America requires a collective effort by all the world's Muslims, Turner believes. Large-scale, violent events will continue to overshadow the efforts of individual religious leaders unless those leaders unite and work as a group to rectify Islam's image, he says.

Ahmed agrees, insisting that Muslims must act individually as well by extending their hands to non-Muslims. "Muslims need to do more outreach, invite people into their homes, because at the end of the day, it's up to us," she explains.