4 Blueprint
OPINIONS
March 11, 2016
Facing discrimination as a Muslim-American By Asma Zaman, Co-News Editor
I am a student. I am a sister and a daughter. I am the type of person who loves to belt out Taylor Swift songs with her best friends or spend hours in the summer sun playing endless games of soccer. I am your average American teenager -- but I’m also a Muslim. As average as I try to be, my identity as a Muslim always seems to eclipse who I am as an American. Somehow because I observe five daily prayers and occasionally wear a headscarf (hijab), I can’t be an American. Throw in some radical Muslims terrorizing the world in the name of Islam into the equation, and you’ve got yourself ground-zero for the onslaught of discrimination. I get it. With words like ISIS and terrorism and Islam and war terrorizing your TV screens, it’s hard not help yourself and just think, “Is this what Islam really is?” Although far too common nowadays, this misconception has been strengthened with fear lingering not only through media portrayal, but from presidential hopefuls. Their idea to ban all Muslims has driven people wild, as they try to “Make America Great Again.” This is all happening because society has been allowing the treacherous actions of a few radicals -- that claim to be in our religion -- to define the rest of the Muslims -- to define me. Let me break it down for you: There are over one billion Muslims in the
Asma Zaman embracing both her American and Muslim Heritage. Photo by Joe Stellato and Clarissa Moreno
world, and out of that one billion, there are only 109 suspected terrorists in the US. And me? Well, I’m just another Muslim caught in the battleground between trying to be American while maintaining my Islamic values. It’s a battleground with which I’ve become all too familiar. It’s a battleground that began as I played on the jungle gym with my friends with not a care in the world... until the kid in 6th grade thought it would be funny to run around the playground pretending to be an airplane crashing into buildings right in front of me, as
if I should somehow feel guilty for the actions of 9/11. With recent onslaught of terrorist attacks in San Bernadino and Paris, Muslims are being expected to speak up and apologize for the actions of these terrorists. People often make the mistake of thinking that terrorist violence is representitive of the core values of everyday Muslim men and women -- which is simply not true. The day Osama bin Laden died, I felt proud. I remember excitedly typing my Facebook status congratulating our troops. The next day I showed up to school wearing my red and
brain like some sort of mental text messaging. Just kidding. Twin telepathy is not a thing, although a lot of times I can tell what she’s thinking just by looking at her. Most people don’t realize that we’re twins unless they’re told, because Olivia and I barely look alike (which also rules out the possibility of switching lives for a day, a lá “The Parent Trap”). It’s always kind of gratifying when people find out, because they’re so surprised, and then they want to know what it’s like to have a twin. That question is kind of hard to answer, since I don’t know what it’s like to not have a twin. But I’ll give it a shot. Having a twin comes with many benefits, like when people give us one present to share for Christmas, or when someone calls me Olivia despite the fact that we look nothing alike and said person had no problem calling me by the right name before they found out we were twins. A lot of people also ask me if it’s nice having someone to steal clothes from whenever I want. Sure, it’s great having a whole extra drawer of apparel to rummage through whenever I’m in the mood to face Olivia’s wrath for wearing her clothes. And there’s always that day every month or so when Olivia and I unwittingly wear almost the exact same outfit and
don’t even realize it until we bump into each other in the hallway. Can you say twinning? However, out of the many positives of having a twin, nothing can top the joy of sharing a room the size of a prison cell with another person. I just love waking up every morning several times before my alarm goes off because Olivia has to be at school by 7 am, and nothing can beat walking into the bathroom to brush my teeth and promptly tripping over a flat iron plugged into the wall. I especially look forward to our birthday. Trying to figure out how to combine both of our friend groups into one non-awkward party was a real highlight of my middle school years, and definitely strengthened my problem-solving skills. But jokes aside, most of the “problems” that come with having a twin are problems all siblings face at one point or another. The problems are far outweighed by the good things. Having a twin is like having a builtin best friend. We have dozens of inside jokes; I can’t even count how many times I’ve fallen on the floor laughing from something she said. I can’t even get into a fight with Olivia without cracking up after five minutes. For example, one time Olivia and I were really mad at each other. I can’t even remember the exact reason
white striped shirt with blue jeans ready to share my excitement with everyone else. As I walked into class, my friends all looked up at me and I could sense something was wrong. “Hey Asma, I heard your dad died last night!” As I pretended to laugh along with the rest of them, I tried to cover my true hurt. It was at that moment that I realized it: No matter what I’ll do or how hard I try, I’ll never be considered an American. There is no denying that being a Muslim means being a minority. This identity of being a minority, try as I may to shake it off, will always continue to be an integral part of who I am. However, being a minority doesn’t mean I’m not an American. To be an Muslim-American means to be bold. It means watching Sunday night football with the squad or reuniting with the family for the annual Thanksgiving dinner. It means proudly looking up at the 4th of July fireworks with a cold drink in one hand and barbecued chicken in the other. The only difference that being a Muslim actually makes is the fact that there’s no alcohol served and we an occasional prayer break between little intervals. I am an American by birth, but a Muslim by choice. I’m not here to steal your land or bomb your buildings. I am a Muslim. But I’m not a terrorist. Contact Asma at azam2301@csd99.org
What it’s like to always be twinning By Eileen Tyrrell, Head Copy Editor
Juniors Olivia and Eileen Tyrrell pose together in the DGS hallway.
Photo by Clarissa Moreno When someone finds out that I have a twin, they inevitably ask two questions: “Since when?” and “Wait…. so can you guys, like, read each other’s minds?” The answer to the first question is since birth, and the second answer is yes, when Olivia thinks about something, her thought zooms through my
why, but I stormed into our room and started throwing things around and huffing and puffing. I picked up a bottle of hair spray and slammed it on my dresser. “What is your problem?” Olivia demanded. “Nothing! I’m just -- cleaning!” I lied, and instantly burst into laughter because I sounded so ridiculous. I couldn’t even manage to stay mad at her for five minutes. I actually think the fact that we share a room prevents us from getting super angry at each other because it sucks to be in the same room with someone who’s mad at you. So, in a weird way, sharing the smallest room in the house actually makes our relationship stronger. I’m so grateful that I have a twin. Thinking about college and life after high school scares me a lot, and even though the chances are slim that Olivia and I will go to the same college, knowing that I’ll always be able to stay in touch with her and that we’ll be going through the same fresh start comforts me immensely. I’m so lucky, not only that I have a twin sister to share all of my experiences with, but also that she is my best friend.
Contact Eileen at etyr2717@csd99.org