Muslims in America: Beyond Stereotypes

Source:

Religious Landscape Study

http://www.pewforum.org/religious-landscape-study/RE

Second 60-minute session

Depending on the level of engagement, it will take almost half of the second session to finish the answers activity of Lesson one. At the end of that, pass out the student reflection handout, allowing students at least 15 minutes to complete it.
Note:

Students will be doing three written reflections during this mini-unit. Teachers may want to design one handout that contains all three reflections. The first is after Lesson One. The second is after Lesson Two and the final is the mini-unit assessment. Of course, they could all be done as a digital document or as notebook entries.

Student Handout Lesson Two: Muslim American Voices

this page is under construction

What Is Identity? Identity is…

Identity Boxes

This activity will help to show the similarities and differences between the way we define ourselves and the way others define us.

Directions:

—Draw a box on a piece of paper.

Inside your box:

Write labels and descriptions you would use to describe yourself. Think about the different parts of your life. Think about how you define yourself at school, with your friends, at home with your family, with your family out in the world etc.

Outside of your box:

Write labels and descriptions that reflect how you think others view you.

Note:

In some cases, how people in the world see us is the same as how we see ourselves, and in some cases, it is not.
Therefore, words inside the outline and outside the outline may or may not overlap.

Think:

Notice the words inside and outside of your box. Which ones are the same? Which ones are different?

Explain why some words might be the same, while others might be different.

Student Handout Lesson Two: Muslim American Voices
Vocabulary List
biography an account of someone's life written by someone else


culture the beliefs, customs, arts, etc., of a particular society, group, place, or time


discrimination the unjust or prejudicial treatment of different categories of people or things, especially on the grounds of race, ethnicity, age, religion, gender, or sexual orientation

identity who a person is, or the qualities of a person or group that makes them different from others

the reputation, characteristics etc., of a person or organization that makes the public think about them in a particular way

Islamophobia the fear, hatred of, or prejudice against, the Islamic religion or Muslims


stereotype the inaccurate way outsiders generalize about the characteristics of an ethnic, racial, or religious group

Student Handout Lesson Two: Muslim American Voices
Name of person: _____________________________________________________________

Important biographical information: _____________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________

As you read, think about the following questions. When you are finished, write down your answers.
Questions for readings:
1. For this person, what does being Muslim mean?
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________

2. For this person, what does being American mean?

____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________

3. Does this person identify with any other group/s? And if so, what does that mean to the person?

____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________

turn over

4. What are the benefits of this person’s identities? What does he or she like about it?

____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________

5. Does this person face any challenges because of how other people view him or her? If so, explain.

____________________________________________________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________

6. What else struck you when you read this?

____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________

Questions?

____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________
Sears_by_Mohja_Kahf'>Voice 1: Mohja Kahf Beginning Anchor Voice
My Grandmother Washes Her Feet in the Sink of the Bathroom at Sears by Mohja Kahf
My grandmother puts her feet in the sink

        of the bathroom at Sears

to wash them in the ritual washing for prayer,

wudu,

because she has to pray in the store or miss

the mandatory prayer time for Muslims

She does it with great poise, balancing

herself with one plump matronly arm

against the automated hot-air hand dryer,

after having removed her support knee-highs

and laid them aside, folded in thirds,

and given me her purse and her packages to hold

so she can accomplish this august ritual

and get back to the ritual of shopping for housewares
Respectable Sears matrons shake their heads and frown

as they notice what my grandmother is doing,

an affront to American porcelain,

a contamination of American Standards

by something foreign and unhygienic

requiring civic action and possible use of disinfectant spray

They fluster about and flutter their hands and I can see

a clash of civilizations brewing in the Sears bathroom

My grandmother, though she speaks no English,

catches their meaning and her look in the mirror says,

I have washed my feet over Iznik tile in Istanbul

with water from the world's ancient irrigation systems

I have washed my feet in the bathhouses of Damascus

over painted bowls imported from China

among the best families of Aleppo

And if you Americans knew anything

about civilization and cleanliness,

you'd make wider washbins, anyway

My grandmother knows one culture—the right one,

as do these matrons of the Middle West. For them,

my grandmother might as well have been squatting

in the mud over a rusty tin in vaguely tropical squalor,

Mexican or Middle Eastern, it doesn't matter which,

when she lifts her well-groomed foot and puts it over the edge.

"You can't do that," one of the women protests,

turning to me, "Tell her she can't do that."

"We wash our feet five times a day,"

my grandmother declares hotly in Arabic.

"My feet are cleaner than their sink.

Worried about their sink, are they? I

should worry about my feet!"

My grandmother nudges me, "Go on, tell them."
Standing between the door and the mirror, I can see

at multiple angles, my grandmother and the other shoppers,

all of them decent and goodhearted women, diligent

in cleanliness, grooming, and decorum

Even now my grandmother, not to be rushed,

is delicately drying her pumps with tissues from her purse

For my grandmother always wears well-turned pumps

that match her purse, I think in case someone

from one of the best families of Aleppo

should run into her—here, in front of the Kenmore display

I smile at the midwestern women

as if my grandmother has just said something lovely about them

and shrug at my grandmother as if they

had just apologized through me

No one is fooled, but I
hold the door open for everyone

and we all emerge on the sales floor

and lose ourselves in the great common ground

of housewares on markdown.

Source: Poetry Foundation

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/54253/my-grandmother-washes-her-feet-in-the-sink-of-the-bathroom-at-sears


About Mohja Kahf:

Mohja Kahf is an Arab American poet and novelist. She was born in Damascus, Syria, in 1967 and moved to the US with her family in 1971. She is an associate professor of comparative literature at the University of Arkansas and author of the book The Girl in the Tangerine Scarf, about a Muslim girl’s coming of age in Indiana.

Voice 1: Mohja Kahf

Vocabulary
affront an action or remark that causes outrage or offense.

Aleppo a Syrian city, and one of the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world

perhaps dating to the 6t century B.C.E.

American

Standards manufacturer of toilets, faucets, bathtubs, and showers for over 140 years

august respected and impressive

Damascus a city in Syria that has existed for over 4,000 years

decorum behavior in keeping with good taste and decency, correctness

housewares small household items such as kitchen utensils, tableware, and

decorative objects.
Iznik tile colorful ceramic tiles produced in 16^th and 17^th centuries in Iznik (Nicaea), a city in Northwestern Turkey
Kenmore  a brand of household appliances sold by Sears, Roebuck and Co
markdown a reduction in price
matron a married woman, especially a dignified and sober middle-aged one

porcelain a hard but delicate, shiny, white substance made by heating a special type of clay to a high temperature, used to make cups, plates, ...

pumps is a shoe with a low-cut front, the vamp, and without a fastening, usually worn by women
Sears a department store

squalor a state of being extremely dirty and unpleasant, especially as a result of poverty or neglect


wudu act of ritual cleansing performed before prayers, usually with water

Voice 2: Mary Juma

“I was born in Byria, Rushia, Syria. I don't know my exact age, but according to my naturalization papers, I am sixty-nine years old. I am sure that I am at least seventy-five years of age, however. My home in Syria was a large, one-story stone house. The floors were made of logs (about the size of our telephone poles), and the space between the poles was filled with smaller poles….

My religion in the Old Country was Moslem. We attended services every Friday, the same as we do here. I received no education, as our people figured that it was a waste of time and money to teach a girl to read and write. There were no schools in our village, and those that were taught to read and write were taught by a tutor….
The people in our vicinity were migrating to America and kept writing back about the riches in America. Everyone wanted to move, and we were a family of the many that contemplated leaving. We sold all our possessions and borrowed $200 from a man, giving our land as a collateral.
A big farewell party was given in our honor, as there were twelve of us coming to America from that one village. It was a sad farewell as our relatives hated to see us leave. We feasted, danced, and played games at the party. The games were for men, which were feats of strength and endurance.
We left two daughters in the Old Country with relatives. One of the girls has died since, and the other one still lives there.
We went to Beirut, which was about thirty miles from our home, and caught a boat to France. It took us about three weeks to travel through France…. It took us three weeks to come from France to Montreal, Canada.
We moved further inland and started to travel over that country with a horse and cart as peddlers. We stayed there only a few months, and then moved to Nebraska…. We traveled through the entire state in a year. We never had trouble making people understand what we wanted while peddling, but many times we were refused a place to sleep. We suffered the same conditions as the pioneers, and at times were even more uncomfortable.
…. In 1902, we came to western North Dakota where we started to peddle. It was at the time when there was such an influx of people to take homesteads, and for no reason at all, we decided to try homesteading too.
We started clearing the land immediately, and within a year, had a horse, plow, disk, drag, and drill. We also had some cattle and chickens. When there was a very little work to do on the farm, my husband traveled to Minnesota and eastern North Dakota to peddle.
In 1903, my son, Charles, was born. He was the first Syrian child born in western North Dakota. We were the first Syrians to homestead in this community, but soon many people from that country came to settle here.
Our home has always been a gathering place for the Syrian folk. Not many parties or celebrations were held, except for occasions like a wedding or such. Before we built our church [mosque], we held services at the different homes. We have a month of fasting, after which everyone visits the home of another, and there was a lot of feasting.
We always speak in our native tongue at home, except my grandchildren, who won't speak Syrian to their parents. They do speak in Syrian to me because I cannot speak nor understand English. My grandchildren range from fourteen months of age to eight years, and there are four of them. . . .
I can't read at all, neither in English nor Syrian. My son and daughter-in-law tell me the news they think might interest me.
We don't have any recreation; we only work. Sometimes friends stop in to talk for a while, and then we attend services every Friday too, but that is all. I sew a little occasionally, and like to hold the baby.
The thing that sets this farm apart as a Syrian-American home is that all the buildings are located close to the house, and all the chickens and sheep come close, even to the doorstep of the house….
There is too great a comparison to say much about America and my native land. This country has everything, and we have freedom. When we pay taxes, we get schools, roads, and an efficiency in the government. In the Old Country, we paid taxes and Turkey took all the money, [with] Syria receiving nothing in return. We were repaid by having Turkey force our boys to join her army. The climate in the Old Country was wonderful, but we [Americans] have such a climate down south.
If I had my life to live over, I would come to America sooner than I did. I would have liked to visit the people in Syria five or ten years ago, but now that I am helpless, I wouldn’t care to go. I don’t ever want to go back there to live.

About Mary Juma:

Mary Juma is a Syrian native who settled in North Dakota in 1902 and told her story 37 years later to a U.S. government employee who worked for the Works Progress Administration (WPA).

Source: The interviews with Mary Juma and other Syrian settlers are excerpted in The Columbia Sourcebook of Muslims in the United States, edited by Edward E. Curtis. The book is included in the Muslim Journeys Bookshelf.
Note: A WPA field worker, Everal J. McKinnon, interviewed Mary Juma in her home in Ross, North Dakota. Because she could not speak English, her son, Charles Juma, interpreted.

Voice 2: Mary Juma

Vocabulary

collateral something pledged as security for repayment of a loan, to be forfeited in the event of a default

homestead a tract of land acquired from U.S. public lands by filing a record and living on and cultivating the tract

influx an arrival or entry of large numbers of people or things

Moslem an older way to spell Muslim
naturalization legal process by which a citizen of one country becomes a citizen of another
peddle to try to sell goods, especially small goods, by going from place to place

Voice 3: Halima Touré
A few years after I embraced Islam, a woman I worked for said to me, “You seem so intelligent. Why are you a Muslim?” I responded, “Because Islam appealed to my head as well as to my heart.” 

If anyone had told me a year before I became a Muslim that my head and heart would be open to Islam, my response would have been, “You’re out of your mind!” So how did I come to this point in my life? 

On the outside, I had a good life. As a beneficiary of the civil rights movement, I became the first black editor at Redbook Magazine in the mid-60s. Then I freelanced for magazines and did research for television. 

I had a rich social and professional network. I believed, along with my friends and colleagues, that we could help make a positive change in America. It was the time of “Say it loud: I’m black and I’m proud.” My Afro hairstyle and my support for the black arts movement expressed my black pride. The knowledge of Africa’s great past awakened my African identity. My family was supportive of my accomplishments. I’d made it. On the inside, though, a creeping emptiness had begun to spread. I’d joined freedom rides, picket lines, and boycotts with the Congress of Racial Equality. I had volunteered with the National Urban League. But the bullets that killed John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy, Malcolm X, and Martin Luther King Jr. each killed a bit of my spirit and hope. Cynicism began to take root.

Meanwhile, I had drifted away from organized religion…The death of a 24-year-old relative left me angry that God would take such a nice guy…Neither my childhood beliefs nor my adult agnosticism could satisfy me. 

The deeper questions of life began to surface: If I’d “made it,” why did I feel so empty? Material goods, careers, family and friends alone did not fill my inner space. Is life just a free fall from birth to death? Is this all there is? Why am I here? I became hungry for meaning. 

Then I met the Muslim man who would become my husband. He talked of our African Islamic origins, along with his dream of a new future for them. He emphasized how our African past was linked to Islam in empires like Songhai and Mali, and in renowned centers of learning like Timbuktu.

I read literature about the basic tenets of Islam. Several were similar to Christianity, although there were fundamental differences…I saw how all parts of me—mind, body, spirit—connected to my total environment. 

At Friday services in the mosque, the imam, an African-American and alumnus of Al-Azhar in Cairo, described Islam as a scientific way of life bound by God’s spiritual, physical, and social laws. He believed it was just the medicine needed to uplift humanity, but especially for African- Americans suffering the after effects of slavery. 

I was impressed by the focus on family and by the fraternal bonds. Given the popular perception of the absentee African-American father, I was particularly impressed by the Muslim men talking to and laughing with young children, even holding infants. …

I met Betty Shabazz, the late widow…Malcolm X, when I was helping to edit a book about her husband. When she learned of my engagement, she extolled for me the benefits of being married to a Muslim man. She pointed out that the ideal of Islam was free of racism and classism. 

An Idul-Fitr prayer service at the Islamic Center revealed the international character of Islam. In contrast to the racial separation of the United States on Sunday morning, the colorful tapestry of humanity worshiping together impressed me as just what Allah intended. With the diversity was the unity—black, brown, yellow, and white prostrating themselves before their Creator, reciting the same prayers and intoning in unison, Allahu Akbar (Allah is the greatest). On the evening that I sat in hijab (headscarf) on the carpet in front of the imam to make my shahadah (witness), I was convinced that I needed Islam for me and not just to please my future husband. Before witnesses, I professed that there is no God but God (Allah), and that Muhammad is His prophet and messenger. Then the imam said, “You’ve taken the first step toward becoming a Muslim. Now the work begins.” 

That work is never-ending. It began with studying—learning what is halal (lawful) and haram (prohibited), and why. It continues with trying to incorporate its principles into all aspects of my world. I gave away the clothes of my old life, covered my hair, and made ankle and wrist-length garments that both cover and conceal. The duty-free alcohol went down the toilet, the cigarettes went into the garbage. I scrutinized food labels to avoid haram ingredients. I learned wuzu and the prayers. Gradually, I changed my work schedule in order to attend Friday services. The Islamic holy days replaced the holidays of my old tradition. 

….However, my inward shifts were, and continue to be, the most astonishing. For one, I was unaware of the extent of my arrogance and ignorance until I had to bow down to Allah in prayer. My credo had been, “I am the captain of my ship! I am the master of my fate!” 

A wise person once said, “A problem cannot be solved on the same level of consciousness at which it was created.” The hopelessness, cynicism, anxiety, rage, and despair that mark contemporary life— symptoms of an individual’s and a society’s loss of meaning— threatened to consume me. But on that day nearly 30 years ago, I opened a door to become something else, and I am still “becoming.” 

I could not comprehend how seeing life through the lens of an Islamic consciousness would change me. One friend was turned off by my zeal, screaming, “Give me a break!” Time and experience have since mellowed me. 

My hijab and peaceful demeanor surprised a friend who saw me about eight years after my shahadah. He remarked, “It suits you!” Yes, it does suit me, and I have yet to feel empty again.