I've been thinking a lot about hometown pride today, and what that means. As an inbetween American, this term troubles me in a way it doesn't trouble others. I was born and raised in a big, big city, a place where people wear stilettos to the gym, and then moved to a place named after … Continue reading Hometown Pride.
Today's message is another from my parents. One day at the mosque back home, my mother and I noticed a huge mess in the ladies' room. Nobody else was cleaning up the strewn-about paper towels, or mopping up the stale water, but my mother started on her hands and knees, clearing out the mess. When … Continue reading Always leave a place a little better than you found it.
In time, you'll understand why parents say the things you do. You'll see the logic of the unknowns that govern their lives. Or you'll wrap your head around new ideas, beliefs, and myths. In time, you'll develop your voice. You'll listen to opinions that don't agree with yours. Or you'll be too stubborn to hear … Continue reading In time…
After 9/11, a big question I got a lot was, "why are you still a Muslim?" This was often followed by distaste, horror, or anger with my decision to remain in a religion that, until now, hadn't received much screen time. My religion for many, now, equates to American lives lost, and atrocities committed. It … Continue reading Why are you still a Muslim?
Hello all, It has been a tremendous amount of time since my last post...I am both sorry for that, and glad I took some time to think without writing. Since my last post, some things have changed: My roommate is now someone I plan to spend my life (but not every second) with My marital … Continue reading Using my words.
In September, I will marry someone with whom I, in many ways, epitomize this graphic. I like to point out that the only thing we have in common physically is that we are both left-handed (although he always reminds me we do also each have two feet and two hands). When I first met him, … Continue reading Think, and let think.
Once upon a time, a doctor and a Master of Home Economics had a child. Wait, they had two. The Master did all sorts of things with her degree. She worked in nutrition; she owned a furniture store; she taught at a school. The doctor...worked a lot. All the time, actually. Two hours after his … Continue reading To the peeps that made me, me.