Reflecting Upon our Presence in This Country
By Mona Islam
Sep/Oct 2024
I can speak for the generation that grew up in the 80s and 90s, whose parents were immigrants from the East. Most of us went to public schools while our parents settled down, got us educated, and often scrambled to convince us of our Islamic identity, faith and practice. Some gave up upon arrival; others strove to pass them down via gatherings, books, clubs, and learning relevant languages.
Our parents would struggle to form a sense of community and meet other Muslims they would not normally meet, all to preserve their faith in a clearly very attractive un-Islamic environment. These realities motivated them to build community centers, mosques, organizations, and Islamic schools, as well as to increase their own Islamic knowledge and teach it to their children. Falling in love with their deen, they dropped their cultural baggage and planted the seeds of taqwa (God consciousness) within themselves and their children.
We, their children, were often the only Muslims at our public schools. As minorities, we struggled to deal with the generational cultural gap, our parents’ academic expectations, and to hold onto our basic Islamic identity, faith, and practice. Among our dilemmas were Islamic attire, gender relations, intercultural marriage, and finding non-interest-bearing loans for major life purchases.
We witnessed ethnocentric gaps in our mosques when Arabs and Pakistanis didn’t see eye to eye, women had no voice on any board, and youth were viewed as sources of anxiety to their parents. We watched our mosques and schools struggle to lay the groundwork, pay the bills and hire qualified and competent personnel. We witnessed everything from mosque politics to racial discrimination.
Finally, after years of dedication and effort, our communities started getting it right. Mosque spaces became more inclusive, fair and welcoming, treating both converts and indigenous Muslims with equal respect. Women gained a voice and position in traditionally male dominated religious spaces, and youth work was seen as valid and worthwhile. During the next phase, we saw more integration with mainstream society due to their increasing awareness of our civic responsibilities and understanding of how government and politics affect us.
The 9/11 tragedy provided a re-entrance for Muslims into the American landscape. “Mosque Open Houses” sprang up across the country. Da‘wah and outreach were at an all-time high. News of conversions and removal of barriers with non-Muslims filled the air.
As our generation embraced parenthood in the early 2000s, there was a notable rise in the demand for full-time Islamic education. This transition compelled us to reaffirm our commitment to nurturing faith and Islamic values in our own offspring. Concurrently, initiatives to foster creativity saw the emergence of vibrant youth groups, media platforms, and Islamic schools among them.
Recognizing the significance of preserving our predecessors’ institutions made us acutely aware of the pressing need for Islamic schools and community centers. As our population expanded and the era of social media dawned, we encountered unforeseen challenges, such as religious and ethical dilemmas stemming from social media and advancing technology. We had new terrain to navigate.
Despite electing the first African American president and the Black Lives Matter movement, widespread discussions about racial injustice and police brutality continued, beckoning Muslims to take an ethical stand. COVID-19 abruptly displaced us from our once-familiar seats, reshaping the landscape of our lives in unexpected ways.
As we strengthened our faith, our separation from congregational activities to youth group activities and Islamic conventions and camps, forced us to find new ways to fill the void of community support. We rediscovered ways of learning, connecting, and experiencing our deen. Our determination to preserve what we could force us to design online conventions, seminars, and classes. Online opportunities invited teachers, students, and peers to meet those whom otherwise we would never have met. When social distancing finally left us, we resumed our activities with newfound appreciation, only to be tested once again with global tragedies that tested what we are made of.
Our Greatest Anchors
As Muslim Americans move forward, our greatest anchor lies in the timeless guidance of the Quran and Sunnah. The greatest lesson the past few decades have reminded us of the depth and relevance of Islam’s truth. The more questions fill the air, the answer is always the same: Go back to the deen, the authentic sources, and the examples of the Messengers, and you will never go wrong.
Among the many things to consider in this regard are the following.
• Believing in the two authentic sources. “We hear and we obey. [We seek] Your forgiveness, our Lord, and to You is the [final] destination” (2:285). As a child, I recall the deep reverence our parents’ generation held for them. However, this adherence, especially to the Sunnah, seems to have waned over time, particularly among my generation. It’s disheartening to see how worldly pursuits have led to their neglect of the Sunnah’s guidance. This is a major dilemma for our community.
Have they perhaps forgotten the repeated statement that “There has certainly been for you in the Messenger of God an excellent pattern for anyone whose hope is in Allah and the Last Day and [who] remembers God often” (33:21)? We must strive to rekindle our reverence for the Quran and Sunnah so we can navigate the complexities of contemporary life with confidence and guidance. Failing to do so puts our faith and identity at risk, which could cause us to lose our spiritual foundation.
• Reviving Islamic etiquette in family dynamics. One of our greatest losses exists in our family values and family roles: The once tight-knit fabric of familial relationships has unraveled. During my upbringing, these bonds of trust ran deep and were nurtured with care. Mentorship flourished, fostering a sense of belonging and security that shaped our identities. Reflecting on the past, I remember when extended family couches were familiar sanctuaries for after-school naps, and their kitchens extended an open invitation.
However, today these once-vibrant relationships have dwindled into mere shadows of their former selves, replaced by a noticeable distance and sense of estrangement. The younger generation has noticed this, for they bear the brunt of its impact and yearn for the connection and guidance that family should provide. The resulting void in their lives deprives them of invaluable guidance and support and, in addition, impacts their sense of identity and belonging.
• Engaging ethically with the world. We need to strike a balance between preserving and strengthening our identity while striving to establish justice and make meaningful contributions to mainstream society. Reflecting on the experiences of previous generations, we find that neither extreme isolation nor complete assimilation are recommended solutions.
To cultivate and rejuvenate our roots, we have to educate ourselves and our children. By deeply understanding our faith, its teachings, and its rich history, we can foster a sense of pride and belonging. We must continue to build strong communities to support ourselves and reinforce a shared identity. Engaging with mainstream society through interfaith dialogues, community service, and professional collaborations enables us to share our values and perspectives while enriching our own experiences. Another remedy is balancing modernity and tradition. Harmonizing traditional values with modern realities ensures that our faith remains relevant and dynamic.
We’re inspired by the example of Prophet Muhammad (salla Allahu ‘alayhi wa sallam), whose commitment to ethical conduct and the pursuit of justice uplifted the darkest corners of society. We can emulate him in this regard by advocating for the marginalized and justice, opposing discrimination and oppression, addressing systemic inequalities, and ensuring that everyone is treated with dignity and respect. We must also strive to emulate the Prophet’s leadership style, which was characterized by humility, selflessness, and a genuine concern for his community’s well-being.
Our Legacy
As my generation buries our elders and pioneers, the legacy we will leave for our children dominates our thoughts. Will they be assets on our scales, or will our deficiencies as parents cause us to face agony on Judgment Day?
On a broader scale, the future demands us to reflect: Are we fulfilling our potential as da‘is and standing for justice and fulfilling the rights of the oppressed? Is our devotion and worship increasing or waning compared to our elders?
Despite these pressing questions, our path forward should be clear: living our lives in a way that pleases God. This includes seeking and acquiring authentic knowledge, worshipping Him sincerely, following the Sunnah, reviving and strengthening our family relationships, and engaging with our communities as ethical and just contributors.
Moreover, it’s our duty to leave behind a generation that will carry Islam’s vision forward and make this world a better place. By doing so, we can ensure that our legacy is one of faith, justice, and positive contribution, thereby fulfilling our responsibilities to both our Creator and our fellow human beings.
Mona Islam, EdD, a visiting faculty member at the Islamic Seminary of America, serves on the board of Rabata, the MultiCultural Center in Houston, and MAS Houston. She is actively engaged in the community on various fronts.
Tell us what you thought by joining our Facebook community. You can also send comments and story pitches to [email protected]. Islamic Horizons does not publish unsolicited material.