Why I’m proud to be a Muslim at Rutgers

“Just don’t bomb my house” is a phrase I hear a lot. It’s frequently followed by loud peals of laughter that mask the sinister undertones of a casual statement that holds many under a microscopic lens. It is one I am tired of listening to whenever I introduce myself to someone and religion eventually makes its way into the conversation. Upon hearing it, I am forced to decide between three options. The first is to ask the person not to bomb my house, which is fair really. This option asks me to play into the jokes that continue to stereotype me and many of my friends. I could always avoid this by pointing out the problems with the statement but that just leaves me as an “angry Muslim who can’t take a joke”.

To avoid both these options, I am inevitably forced to move the conversation on with an awkward laugh and a quest to escape the situation. While it seems like an exaggeration, every Muslim I know has a memory about this and choosing one of these options. And it seems OK in the moment, but no one really acknowledges how every time someone casually makes a joke about terrorism, they are enforcing a stereotype that interferes with the lives of most of the Muslim population in the world.

It is a statement that asks me to be ashamed of who I am. It is a statement that forces me to prove I am not an “extreme” Muslim. It is a statement I haven’t heard in months. Ever since I started attending Rutgers, I have found myself in a group of students that never stops. The rush that Rutgers is constantly in forces you to move along with everyone else. When I first began attending, I assumed that to keep up with the crowd you had to learn to give up pieces of yourself. It has never made me happier to be proven wrong.

The atmosphere at Rutgers is one that encourages individuality and preaches acceptance with every turn. You don’t give a second glance at what someone is wearing and you don’t care who is sitting alone. More importantly, you don’t have to prove that you are not the stereotype that you have been assigned. This acceptance has taught me to stop fearing the world and the label “angry Muslim”. The students at Rutgers have taught me how to be myself.

Being Muslim has recently become something from which I draw extreme pride and my time in college has only strengthened my bond with my religion. In light of the increasingly discriminatory comments flying around because of the upcoming presidential election, I wanted to reflect on the impact that Rutgers has had on my vision of myself and to encourage my peers to continue to defy what is steadily becoming the norm.

I constantly see articles and videos discussing how once you meet people and point out that you’re Muslim, that seems to become a point of fixation. They cannot see past your religion and that is how they categorize you. This categorizing used to be one of the most annoying parts of meeting a new person. I am so much more than “just a Muslim” and to pigeonhole me into a box is something that does a disservice to all the things I have studied, all the groups I have worked with, and all the effort my parents have put into making sure I remember exactly where I come from.

But after coming to Rutgers, I have learned a lot about my identity and if you want to see me as “just a Muslim”, I will not stop you. Because if that is all you can see in a person, it is not my job to correct your ignorance. I practice my religion with pride and a confidence taught to me by a school full of open hearted and open-minded individuals.