Our Mission

The Lighthouse is a publication by the Muslim students of St. Johns University who provide a peer perspective on contemporary issues affecting our immediate surroundings through self-expression. The lighthouse represents how Islam projects light to those who seek answers.

This year our theme is identity, as this is a pivotal time in our lives to search more than ever to represent ourselves as who we truly are. Table of Contents
Creation of Muslim Identity
Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 8 Page 8 Page 9

Light House
Graphic Design:
Fatema Elias Tasnima Nabi Sami Rabb

Leaves Rediscovery A basket of moonlight CREATE

Fatema Elias

Just around the corner

Editor-in-Chief
Tasnima Nabi

Sami Rabb Mariam Sallam

Featured Writers:

When what you wear matters The revelation Tears of blood & smoke I am who i am COMICS conviction firefighter of the year A WAY OUT MEET THE E-BOARD
Page 10 Page 10 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15

Co-Editor Co-Editor

Sami Rabb

Desiree Abdelkadr Sumaira Ahammed Misbah Hyder Rad Huda Mariam Khan Tawfeek Khan Irma Khawaja Zanab Qureshi Mahbuba Rahman

Photography:

Fatema Elias Samad Tirmizi

TheLightHouse needs you!

Here is your chance to have your voice heard.

Have ideas?

We are always looking for talented individuals to share there story and its up to you to take advantage of this opportunity! Questions?

*All editorials are the sole opinions of the writers alone and the Muslim Students Association at St. Johns University.*

e-mail us at: SJUMSALighthouse@gmail.com

We have decided to include Arabic dua and the name of Allah in this issue; please treat this newsletter with due respect.

Creation of Muslim Identity: Lori Peek By: Tawfeek Khan

Research Paper

Our chosen identity is essential in how we choose our friends, wardrobe, engagement in social functions, aspirations, and ultimately whether we go to heaven or hell. That escalated quickly!

In this edition of the Lighthouse, we will unravel the importance and nuances of developing the Muslim identity. To gain a holistic understanding, lets start at the beginning, the origin of our identity.
Where do we find the source of our identities? According to a qualitative study of college-aged Muslims in New York and Colorado, Dr. Lori Peek identified stages and influential stimuli in the development of interviewees Muslim identities. For most, the development of the Muslim identity begins as what Dr. Peek calls the ascribed identity. During this stage, study participants exhibited little critical reflection about just what it means to be Muslim. Their lives simply reflected the lives of their family and that lifestyle was taken for granted. In this stage, a participant reported, I would pray, but not well. I would do the things, but not do them well. When I was going through this phase I remember singing Christmas carols with my classmates, going trick or treating with neighbors, and celebrating other holidays to feel included. Maybe some of you have similar memories. At this age, its difficult for us to understand or appreciate Islam and its wisdom filled practices. Despite the lack of reflection at this phase, many of us dressed modestly, attended religious classes, and internalized many Muslim values to varying degrees. The next phase of development is called the chosen identity. This is when participants of the study viewed their religion as something that can be challenged and questioned. It is not something that our parents could force on us without our consent. We start to question our goals and values. For many, this stage happens when we enter college. When we enter college, society tells us that we are independent and have permission to engage in adult behavior. The majority of participants agreed that beginning college marked the most critical period of reflection and identity transition. One study participant even transferred out of her business school honors program to focus on the Islamic center on campus in defiance of her parents will. One recurring theme that participants reported during their college years was increased contact with other Muslims especially through MSAs. The pressure to conform to American norms subsided. New environments were created, again, in large part due to MSAs where they could freely explore and express their religion. Some interviewees found this highly environment advantageous for numerous reasons. For one, they did not feel alone. Participants reported learning about Islam with their friends as they were all searching for answers to lifes difficult questions. Another reported advantage is learning religion apart from the culture that their families inappropriately practice as part of the religion. In a focus group conversation a sister said, In Islam, you dont support nationalism in the first placeIf your brother or sister is not a Muslim, but a stranger is, youre closer to that stranger than your own brother or sister. Another sister said, What you believe is how you behave. Your belief affects your behavior. Its your way of life. Being Muslim is a way of life. Thats what it is. Islam doesnt only not support nationalism, its against nationalism. For those who grew up in non-Muslim households, such as converts, the chosen identity stage is the likely starting point. The final stage identified in the study is the declared identity, which participants experienced by and large as a result of the events of 9-11 but could be the result of any crisis. In the face of overwhelming stigmatization of the Muslim community, Muslim students publicly affirmed their religious identity. Many reported their religious identity becoming even stronger. There are many reasons for this. Firstly, some sought the protection of God (SAW) as they internalized their own mortality. Second, some felt the need to express the best Islam has to offer in the face of media bias demonizing Muslims. Finally, it forced many to even more critically assess their religion. Is my religion violent? Are these acts of terror something the Prophet (S) would condone? Its by critical reflection that we see these individuals attain the strongest bonds with their religion. Its the type of critical reflection that we should all strive to achieve. We need to not only seek to educate ourselves, but also challenge what we dont like done in the name of our religion.
Peek L. Becoming Muslim: The Development of a Religious Identity. Sociology of Religion 2005; 66:3: 215-42

Leaves

By: Anonymous

I felt the loud thudding, vibration around me, When suddenly a frayed, weak leaf falls to the ground, When even the thunder cant cover its emanating noise. I lose that little bit of hope that the tree loses by losing its leaf. I hear that beating on the left side of my chest, Just like the leaf sounds when it barely touches the ground. I raise my chin though, one vertebrae at a time To spot the thousands of vibrant, green leaves bloom on the branch. And the beating, goes back to normal I know that while one leaf falls, thousands others bloom. And just like that, I know that when I lose myself into a monsoon, Its the tree over my head that allows me move. And so, your story begins of how you became the tree and I became you You say: I grew up to the taste of powder milk and the smell of marigold buds, My feet comforted by the pure soil and my body surrounded by the essence of coconuts. As a boy, my biggest fear was not falling into the dam from the thin bamboo bridges, But to get to class on time so my fathers face would not be turned down. And from those familiar forests and the creeks, I came to the land of foreign and the freaks. You say: I landed in America: a front of alien races of faces. Alone. Scared. Helpless. Finding a job was a luxury because finding a home first was a necessity And we, ignorant fools we sit here asking who is this you? WHO? We ask who? The woman and the man who left their Ma, their Pa, their homes, their family? And we cannot seem to open our eyes to see the hands and feet of coal, lying under the thick layers of coagulated paint, juggled up from tears and wears of pain and nothing for them to gain. Dont you remember that when you wake up, fabricating your face with make- up, you hear the brushing of the knife against the food that your Ma has prepared for you? Dont you remember the Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar that calls when your father is ready to leave it all to get you a doll that perhaps you may in love fall? And we, nave teenagers wonder what have our parents done for us?

And we list all that we can, that we dont have: a private house, nor a car, we dont have a PS3, we dont have a limousine for prom? Dont you remember that you kiss her name when you pronounce and say : Amm-mma Never forget the day where they sat and planned it all. Theyre living in a piece of garbage, to abridge the wreckage, to give you a palace for home. And you want to go dorm to leave the house they bought by turning their blood into sweat from streaking screams of hope? And the simple words in faith of reconnecting our hearts, you cannot even cope? You say my parents are dumb, they make me numb, with their benighted assumptions. And you fail to realize that your father was a lawyer, who stooped down from paradise to serve as a taxi driver? Never forget the day that your mother went to labor not knowing the so called educated language of English. The day that your father couldnt even hold her hand or come to see her, because his boss was near. Because one days worth of monetary value meant one day for something for her to chew on. Never forget the day that they cried for your life, they cried for your health, your wealth, your breath. And yet you sit here, saying sometimes I wish for their death? Sweety, if they didnt nag you for your benevolence, youd fall into black holes of malignance. Holes of cursesYet you still just worry about your purses. You know, I ve heard once that if I were to take my heart out right now and put at against yours, both of our hearts would beat on the same rhythm. And if this is the power we have right now, imagine how strong we were when we were inside her. We would pump the luscious blood into our bodies at the same pace. We caressed her happiness and anguished at her bleakness. But as our veins, our brains, our nails, our cells began to grow, our knowledge of home began to go. And inevitably we become that tattered leaf that falls, which never finds its way home. ...continued on page 7

Rediscovery
selves often asking the question,

Who am I?

For me,

school. When I started going to St. Johns, however, I had no idea that I that. Although often mistaken as Russian, most people recognized my name as being very Polish. Through my last name, a few assump tions were made about who I was, one of them being that I was Roman Catholic. That was true for most of my life. I was born into a traditional European Catholic family and attended Catholic When I was sixteen, I went into a bookstore to kill time. I wandered into the section on Religion, which wasnt unusual since I have always had a strong faith in God.

, but a Quran ended up in my hands. I opened up to a random page, which I now know was Sura Maryam. I was amazed! I knew Islam was an Abrahamic religion although I wasnt too sure what that entailed. But as I was reading, I was identifying with this chapter more and more; it was just like what I have learned my whole life as a Catholic. In my natural ing who I was. I started studying Islam after that day but not whole-heartedly; however, my love for the religion would only grow. It was not until last year, when I was nineteen, that I would be serious enough to take my Shahada. Allah gave me sign after sign that this was the religion that I needed to follow. family and my Islamic beliefs. Honestly, I have not fully told my family I am Muslim. They know I study Islam, and I think they have an idea that I take it seriously. As human beings, we teach our children our beliefs, our culture, our tradition. My identity as a Muslim, Im afraid, will be mistaken as an insult to my family and everything they believe in. This is why introducing my new identity to my family. In Islam, it is emphasized to respect our parents. I am trying to the best of my ability to respect them, and InshaAllah when the time comes where I do say I am not just studying Islam, but I am Mus lim, they will be able to respect me back. My identity rests proudly on the fact that I am my mothers daughter, but even prouder on the fact that I am Muslim.

why or how

I dont know

Im taking baby steps

Indeed, in the remembrance of Allah (God) do our hearts

5

A Basket of Moonlight
I stepped through, and on to what seemed to be a trail of compact soil with a brightly colored array of tulips growing on either side. Shuffling down the path, I wanted to see what the source of light was and where it was coming from. As strange and unfamiliar the place may have been, my heart was at ease. The garden was comforting in a peculiar way, and allowed me to leave the anxiety not on my back, but in the unknown of the darkness I left behind.

By: Sumaira Ahammed

tion tumbled over me. As if the glow was trying to trigger my memory of something. Allah. Shahara reminded me of Allah. The glow dimmed a bit, and just glistened modestly as it twinkled in my irises. By the ordinance of Allah, the moon emerges from behind the clouds only in the evening. Its brilliance of it is revealed when the world is sleeping. It humbly lights the night sky enough so, for the few those who are awake do not get lost. I gazed at the glow from the basket and was reminded of how humbleness and modesty are essential components of imaan. Tears trickled down my cheek and dripped off my chin as I wept into the basket. Allah had mercy on me, and guided me to find Shahara, so I would no longer be lost. Seeing such moonlight is indeed a reminder of having faith in the One and Only Rabb. The Lord of such magnificence creations and controlling all of them to function and fill their purposes all at their designated times.

I was no longer sure about the time of day. Not a sliver of sunlight was apparent to signify the morning, nor was there a sliver of moonlight to signify the night. All I was sure about was the opacity that engulfed the atmosphere I was trudging through. The air felt moist against my forehead as I blindly walked on, and made me wonder if I was passing through a dark, dense fog. I wandered and wandered. The surface beneath my feet was rough and uneven. At one point I felt something sharp scratch the skin of my toes. The searing sensation was long gone, but the stickiness of the blood remained. Since I could not see anything, I just went with the hope that the blood stopped flowing somehow, and instead clotted and dried up on the surface of the epidermis. Was I looking for solace on this scanter walk? I wasnt even sure if that was possible. I was curious as to where my wandering would lead. Suddenly, my sticky toes encountered a gentle and meek texture. It felt damp and slightly ticklish. Grass. I scampered forward, forgetting my feeling of anxiety that slithered down my spine. I was relieved I didnt have to blindly tread on a rough ground anymore. I was foolish to think I would be welcome to even more open space when my body slammed into a hard object. I didnt fall, but my right side throbbed. I felt around the object with my open palm and figured it was wood. I moved around my palm some more and felt something smooth and round. I turned it left and turned it right, and pushed. A creaking sound erupted, and I jumped back, startled. The feeling of anxiety returned to hurry down my spine as I peered through the door wondering what could possibly be beyond it. A garden. I was no longer squinting through pitch-blackness, but my irises widened for my gaze to actually rest upon a view. There was light. Not enough to brighten an entire morning, but enough to see surroundings if one were to take a stroll at midnight. Vines of roses that rooted up from the ground and curved upward in an archlike shape greeted me.

At the end of the soil path were two great cherry blossom trees resting their trunks on the grass. At last, I had found the source of light, right in between the trees. Thinking how odd there would be light on the ground between two trees, I rushed over to take a look, to see a dainty woven basket harvesting the light. It was rectangular in shape, and carefully crafted. The golden color was crisp on the baleen material and was even more illuminated from the glow inside the basket. I noticed an etching on the side of it. There were three Arabic letters. A sheen, a haa, and a raa. I spelled it out. Shahara. Realizing the etching was pertaining to the glow emanating from the basket, I wondered if Shahara meant light. I looked at the garden around me; and thought how it seemed like it was nighttime with the only available light coming from the basket. Then it hit me. This glow was signifying the night. Shahara must mean moonlight. I was holding a basket of moonlight. It was as if someone had gathered handfuls of it from the sky and stuffed it in this basket. It was puzzling, finding such a thing. How odd to have a basket full of moonlight. As if hearing my thoughts, the glow blossomed into a more elegant beam, and washed over my face, causing me to close my eyelids. A wave of a sensa

The sun is running its course to its appointed place. That is the ordaining of the All-Mighty, the All-Knowing. We have appointed stages for the moon till it returns in the shape of a dry old branch of palm-tree. Neither does it lie in the suns power to overtake the moon nor can the night outstrip the day. All glide along, each in its own orbit. [Quran, 36:38]
It was my designated time to encounter Shahara and be reminded of the essence in worshipping Allah. It was about time to fix the despair and overcome new obstacles in life with the remembrance of Allah and seeking refuge in Him. I took the basket of moonlight with me on the way out of the garden, knowing it will help me face the opaqueness I left behind on the other side of the wooden door. I no longer had the slither of anxiety rushing down my back. I had more than a sliver of moonlight to signify the night and guide me back to the remembrance of Allah azza wa jal. ...continued on page 7

...continued from page 6 This piece is a story-like extended metaphor. In the beginning, the darkness that I am walking through is a metaphor representing my mind. It was during a time when my mind was filled with confusion and cluttered with worries and thoughts of unfortunate events. Finding the garden and feeling at ease is a metaphor of the time I was looking for a freshman student in the hallway when I was a junior in high school. I put all other thoughts of my own life aside, and instead focused on new thoughts of figuring out where and how I would find her in the school building to invite her to the first MSA (Muslim Students Association) meeting. The event of actually meeting her is represented by the metaphor of finding the basket. The moonlight itself is the metaphor of my newfound friend Shahara, of course, whose name means just that - moonlight in Arabic. Although she is younger than me, she has become a role model in my life of becoming a better Muslimah. Just like the way Allah has given an appointed time for the moon to emerge in the night sky, Allah had ordained an appointed time for me to meet Shahara during my junior year of high school. A time when I needed a friend to give me a fresh, new outlook of handling myself as a Muslim girl in this temporary life. And of course, leaving the garden with the basket is the metaphor of going back out into the obstacles of my mind to solve my worries and anxieties with the friend who reminds me of Allah.

MSA BROTHERS

Friends on that Day will be enemies one to another, except al-Muttaqoon (i.e. those who have Taqwah). [Quran 43:67]
...continued from page 4 Now, I dont know about you, and I may not have walked in their shoe, but I do know that with every drop of dew, I love them. Lets cease that thunder from the sky of our souls. Lets hush in percussion and rid of depression and assure our hearts and whisper to make a collective dua for our parents: My Lord, have mercy upon them as they have brought me up when I was small. Oh Allah, save me and my family. Ya Ya Ya Ya Ya Ya Ya Rab, Al-Gaffur, Ar-Rahman, Ar-Rahim, Al-Malik, Al-Quddus, Al-Mumin,

Photo Credit: Samad Tirmizi

May I be able to hold the hands of my parents to take them to the highest level of jannah.

- Irma Khawajas Cat

Create by Desiree Abdelkader

Im a pretty face livin in an ugly place without a trace, I cant erase Dont feel so safe But I keep walking strong, alone all along, still holding on Where do I belong? Tell me what is goin on? And what did I do wrong? At times I feel too calm There must be more than this world, what is beyond Its so profound, around Its quiet now but my thoughts are so damn loud, Hear no sounds, but sounds know here ever so in the clouds, choose to read whats smeared Many things Ive found and Create my own miracles Transcend never blend Invite dont ignore, and whenever truth speaks I desire more. And through these lyricals I provoke healing rituals, traditionals its habitual and everything but fictional. Others will try Try to disguise their intentions They have their own craft First get you to laugh Theyll treat you to their new inventions, pretentious pretensions Im on my own Cant trust no one I feel as distant as the sun Warm Inside Because I Have my Pride I didnt fall for lies, always Strive, and Im all right, my ideas ignite and to others en-light I hope you reach your Destiny because flattery is the decree of the enemy, this world could become less lovely, how ugly it is to we Looking at things positively and spiritually, absolutely And some want to get rid of me this frustration is motivation, continuity Simply just this is my identity This poetry flows into me, floetry within to me, my destiny flirts with me, once spoke to me I am never ever knowing, appear dim but inside glowing, constantly learning, yearning What will it take for them to understand? To see the breeze and feel the seas, lend a hand, not always reprimand I cannot change or else I will fall, no longer free, I do this for you and me I drink in my thoughts and swallow my words I appreciate the things others have not of heard, wonders I wander in thunder with a sense of humor, smiling I am free falling and time stalling ignoring all else while pleasantries are calling. free will do it by choice I feel they only listen to me through my poetry, finally have a voice so I rejoice But this is nothing new to we, always was, my true identity.

Jus t Aro und the Corner,

A resource

not known

to many.

Junior year is like a slap in your face. Before you know it, youre already cramming information you didnt know you were capable of cramming in, and your new abode is the library (4th floor left side anyone?). While life inevitably gets busy, there needs to be a balance between everythingschool, family, and religion. Its easy to get lost in the whirlwind of labs, exams, workbut our pursuits in this life always need to be in check with what we desire for the next world. ICNA Institute is a two-year program for women who want to be successful in the dunya, life on earth, and the akhirah, the hereafter. The classes, held every Friday/Saturday at ICNA Markaz Islamic Center on 89th avenue in Jamaica, provide an escape from the stressful nuances at school and work. Its divided into Junior and Senior groups, not based on age, but based on the amount of classes and timings. The Junior group only meets on Saturdays from 10 am to 1pm, while the Senior group meets on Fridays from 4pm to 8pm and on Saturdays from 10am to 5pm. The Junior group takes classes on Seerah, Tafsir, and Tajweed, while the Senior group takes additional classes on Fiqh, Hadith, Grammar, and Literature. While the work can sometimes be demanding, especially when we have midterms during the school year, it is highly beneficial. Time management and prioritizing is key to success, and adding more to the already strenuous coursework some of us have may sound impossible; however its well-worth the feeling of satisfaction, knowing that youre pleasing Him. Sometimes we get so caught up in taking exams of this life that we fail to keep up with the Big Exam were all takingthe trial of our mortal lives where we strive to attain paradise. The ICNA Institute is just one of the many ways one can keep up with ones Deen. The teachers drop gems of knowledge all the time, tidbits that you hear and immediately feel have an impact on your soul. These types of things are ideas and thoughts that can be shared amongst friends, who also benefit. Mahbuba Rahman is a third year pharmacy student that is part of the Senior group at the ICNA Institute. She says, Its a lifechanging experience, which only works if you allow it to penetrate into your heart as much as the ink which you use to collect gems of knowledge seeps onto the paper. Personally, its like my weekly therapy session to make sense of both myself and the world I live in, and it puts things into perspective. Although the program is almost halfway through, sisters can drop in from time to time as listeners. Going to classes either as a student or an occasional listener is a nice way to keep oneself in check.

ICNA INSTITUTE CLASSES FOR SISTERS COME JOIN INSHALLAH! When: Friday 4:00-8:00p Saturday 10:00-5:00p Where: 166-26 89th Avenue Jamaica NY, 11432 BRING A FRIEND

When What You Wear Matters

by: Mariam Khan

mong young children, the finer details tend to go unnoticed. It was much easier to be yourself without worrying what others may think. As a kindergartner, I didnt think about the effects my decisions would have on the rest of my life. I went crazy on the jungle gym and scribbled during art, not worrying if what I was doing might affect my relationship with the kids around me. I was comfortable enough in my own skin that I felt no matter what, there was no way things could change. Its crazy the things we dont appreciate when were busy waiting to grow up. Sometimes change means taking on new responsibilities and finding your inner conviction. I grew up in a small town in Connecticut where my family was one of the few Muslims there. For a while that didnt matter because we were in close proximity to a city that has a flourishing masjid. In fact, my mom was one of the most active members of the community, teaching Islamic classes and educating non-Muslims about Islam. I had a pretty solid basis in religion. I understood what my beliefs were and how to fulfill them as much as a kid in elementary school could. So even though I grew up in a school where I was the only Muslim, it didnt matter because I knew I was different all along. As a first grader, my decision to wear my hijab regularly to school had farther-reaching effects than I could have predicted. Hijab

rather on intellect and the content of the heart. I think there is something quite feminist about that. Projecting this outward aspect of my religion is definitely a challenge in America, where our beliefs are not reflected in the best light and are under much scrutiny. As a seven year old, people would marvel at the fact that I was already wearing a hijab to school when many older girls were having so much trouble doing so on a regular basis. But this seemed completely natural to me since for as long as I could remember, my mom wore the hijab as well.

of the daily struggles due to the views of others. Quite unintentionally, my two younger cousins were influenced by me in their decisions to wear the hijab, as my mom was an influence on me. Also unintentionally, I paved the road for a younger girl in my town to wear her hijab with confidence to school. Years later, my teachers sometimes even called her by my name.

to school, my classmates were curious and inquisitive, yet accepting. But by time I reached third and fourth grade, the effects of 9/11 had sunk into the hearts of everyone around me. My classmates took on a decidedly negative attitude towards my wearing the hijab that was completely surprising. They were at that age where they could spit out what they heard their parents say without a second thought. It was both shocking and disheartening. By the time middle school came around, my peers were used to the way I dressed and it became old news. But I could only get to this point because

When I first started wearing my hijab

I hope when my past teachers and classmates see things on the news about Muslims doing this and that, or hear negative comments about Islam, they reflect on that first Muslim girl they ever met. I hope they think of her studying and laughing with her friends and conclude that no stereotype or generalization can accurately define an entire religion.
Looking back, I realize that wearing my hijab at that time was for the best. Had I delayed wearing it, I may have succumbed to peer-pressure. I hold the highest respect for those girls who start wearing their hijabs later in life. I can only imagine how difficult it must be to break away from societal norms to fulfill ones faith. I am not sure if what I did was brave, or just me being stubborn, but I know what I did was right.

is the practice of modesty and privacy in Islam.

Its more than the act of covering ones body, its the act of identifying oneself as a Muslim, which affects how one carries oneself. Covering ones body practically demands respect because it requires that judgment should not solely be based on ones beauty, but

I wasnt shaken by peoples remarks and stuck to my decision. My relationship with those people from elementary school who may have said some unkind words evolved to a point where we could be friends.
It was during my middle school years that I formed a more concrete understanding of the reasons why I must wear the hijab. While I made this pivotal decision without being truly informed, my understanding of my faith evolved to a point where I was not willing to compromise, regardless

Photo Credit: Fatema Elias

The Revelation by: Zanab Qureshi

Tears of Blood and Smoke by: Rad Huda

The smell of blood and smoke Hands tingling Ears ringing Heart aching A sudden urge to cry Clueless as to where to go? Clueless as to what to do? Clueless as to whose hands to hold? The child crouches hovered over his dead father He remembers: The once fresh paved roads The smell of fried foods, raw meat, and fish In the open market The happy crowd Standing together with his smiling father Hand in hand Walking to the Masjid His face now smoldering as warm fresh heavy tears make way down to his chin What if it were you? What would you want done for you?

[Quran;

96:1]

Khalaq

Transliteration:Iqra Bismi Rabbika Allazhee Translation: Read! In the Name of your Lord, Who has created (all that exists)

When I began this so called journey of college, I had this one ayah stuck in my mind: Read in the name of your Lord. So I decided to make this painting as motivation to help me get through these six long years of college. All students face a time when we begin to breakdown and panic. For example, during finals week, we get so frustrated that nothing seems to make sense anymore. Or sometimes we ask, why are we even in this place? So my advice to all fellow classmates is to remember that Allah (swt) has sent an order upon us, which is to READ! Our Rabb, the Creator of all that exists in this world, and of the heavens and the earth and of the entire universe has ordered His people to READ! So use this reminder as motivation to help you throughout college. Good Luck!

I Am Who I Am

by: Anonymous

You wake up in the morning and try to realize, Why everything you do is judged by societies eyes. The way you dress and the way you act, is foreign to them so they all react. Hes that and that shes so and so, Based on what they see not what they know. Their words pierce holes through your mind, As it shatters the armor you built inside. You say, Theyre ignorant they just dont know, As the tears in your eyes begin to flow. You catch yourself and remind your heart, Dont let this ever set you apart. You strive to do better and set out to do good, Destroy stereotypes in each neighborhood, You smile a little more and help those in need, Because a hand thats helped helps to lead, A better understanding of just who I am. I dress differently but I still am the same, Ignorance is caused by the news and they are to blame, But the cure to this is just to understand, The way I dress is who I am. So, before you say another comment or make a remark, Remember that after light comes dark, That after life comes so much more. So dont hurt those who have done nothing to you, Cause they will one day be the ones helping you.

10

by: Mahbuba Rahman

Comics

11

Conviction
by: Misbah Hyder

You should be of more tenderness and less aggressiveness. This was written in a fortune cookie I picked up once. I was with my oldest friend, reading the very sentence I have been told my entire life. She saw that I threw it across the table and couldnt look at it again. She also knows and understands the pulls Ive had. Her struggles, as a Tanzanian/Pakistani-American woman, havent been too far from my own. So empathy.

she picked it up, read it, and looked at me with pure

My mom is from India and my dad is from Pakistan. My parents prescribed certain cultural expectations of how a woman is supposed to be. In their view, females are to be submissive, down-toearth, shy, and non-confrontational. Any opposing characteristics would classify her as aggressive.

a certain conviction in my voice. Though they do recognize it is only with them, and

My parents continually remind me that I am not lady- like. I

am strong, and have

this is merely constructed through cultural standards, they say I must change. And I am my fathers carbon copy. He is outgoing, ambitious, and generous. My mother is the epitome of a successful Indian woman. She adhered to the traditional norms as a mother and wife, and exceeded them in attaining three masters degrees. I admire my mother for her accomplishments, though I am surprised when she advocates for me to conform to the Indian stereotypes that force me to change. Surprisingly, its my non-conforming personality that gave my family hope that I could be a pioneer for the Indian/Pakistani-American women, and our community as a whole. I developed a regional focus in the Middle East and South Asia, and a fascination for identity politics and gender

motivate me. My Indian and Pakistani backgrounds pull at one another because of the

studies. The internal

identity struggles I go through continue to

subtle nuances in the identities. Due to a conservative Muslim background, Pakistanis are stricter. Therefore, my mother had to mold some expectations of me in order to have a unified stance with my father; though, some standards still do conflict. For example, my parents would sometimes disagree on guidelines of what is considered appropriate and inappropriate clothing. I must balance both of those cultural norms with my American environment. Simultaneously, I have to adhere to the separate standards of how a woman should be. The idea of being a pioneer is still reinforced at home. While I am told to change myself, I receive praise of how my parents trust in me would have been completely different if I wasnt this person. My father would not have let me study abroad in Rome for a semester if I was submissive. His permission is out of character for a Pakistani father. My

overcoming this self-conflict inspires me to advocate for others.

courage he never thought he had; both of us are stepping past cultural expectations. Slowly

credence gives him the

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 Muslim Firefighter Awarded Firefighter of the Year

by: Tawfeek Khan

One does not need to look far to see the impact of a world changed by the events of 9/11. One such implication has been the need to understand Islam and find out who Muslims really are. The question that America has failed to find a uniform answer to is really not that difficult. Just what are the motives of these mysterious (albeit friendly), modestly dressed (arguably stylish), and hard working minority? In an authentic saying of the Prophet Muhammad (saw), a Muslim is one who believes in God, His angels, the revealed books (Torah and Bible included), Prophets (such as Moses and Jesus), the Day of Judgment, and divine destiny. It is the Muslims duty to conduct him or herself in such a way that is most pleasing to God. There is tremendous diversity with regards to how Muslims choose to express their religious identity. One such way a local Connecticut Muslim has chosen to express his religious identity is through his local volunteer fire department. Iman Khan, 20, was awarded Firefighter of the Year by Brookfield Volunteer Fire Department Candlewood Company. This award was given on the basis of this young Muslims dedication, commitment, and [will] to help without recognition. This was an award to attest to Imans sincerity in serving his fellow hard working Americans. In a statement by Gary Gramling, Chief of Candlewood Company, Iman is a good influence on the young members of the fire company...when Iman is at the firehouse or participating in activities he always displays and exhibits a positive outlook to get the job or assignment completed. Members like Iman who display a positive outlook will hopefully help to energize the younger members. The president of Candlewood Company, Ryan Murphy, describes Iman as a member that lets his actions lead others, and demonstrates to the younger members the commitment it takes to not only be a valuable member of the department, but also to grow as a person. This award is more than a testament to Imans ability; it is a testament that he is seen as a positive influence on the youth in Brookfields emergency services. Consideration of Iman for this award demonstrates Candlewood Companys commitment to cultivating talent in Brookfields youth regardless of their background. This commitment is best summed up by President Murphy. The Brookfield Volunteer Fire Department, Candlewood Inc. seeks members 16 years of age or older, from all backgrounds to [work] as one to serve their community. It is these differences in each member that helps to build the tradition and brotherhood that we have today. It is not rare in many organizations today to see a young minority, especially a Muslim, as a potential role model for their other members. Muslims are driven by their faith to use their God given time and talent to serve humanity as exemplified by the Prophet Muhammad (saw). (O Prophet Muhammad) give good news to the humble, whose hearts tremble with awe at the mention of God, who endure adversity with patience, who establish regular prayer, and who spend in charity out of what we have given them (Quran 22:34-35). It is no wonder that Iman demonstrated the sincerity, humbleness, and generosity of all past recipients of this prestigious award. One could argue that if all Muslims demonstrated the characteristics exemplified by Iman, there would be a uniform understanding of Islam. However, we need to acknowledge the unfortunate reality that we are all humans and we all deviate in small or large ways from the example of the Prophet (PBUH) and the guidelines of the Quran. As such, a Muslim who These deviant behaviors are reprehensible actions or characteristics that necessarily change with increased religious understanding and belief. Some such deviant behaviors are consuming alcohol and dressing immodestly. And amongst the most deviant actions of all are acts of terrorism. It is the deviations in the practice of our faith that is responsible for the widespread misrepresentation of Islam. In lieu of the imperfections of man, we can always turn to God for forgiveness. And surely will [God] forgive him who repents and believes and does good deeds by yielding to My guidance (Quran 20:82).

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... T U O by: Fatema Elias A WAY

Find yourself perpetually committing a sin that you cant get out of? Here is a step-by-step way to dig your way out of a rut!

Ask yourself what the source is:

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

Where was I when I first committed this sin? When did I first do it? Did anyone encourage me to commit this sin directly or indirectly? What was the primary intended goal of committing the sin? Was that goal achieved? What are some of the possible secondary factors?

Identify what the behavior is:

1. 2. 3. 4.

Was this sin committed using any tool or medium? (i.e. Facebook, CD Player, Phone, Business Location) If so, is this tool a necessity in my life? Did I feel any guilt after committing this sin the first time? Did any of my friends praise this sin or encourage me to repeat?

Reflect on your post-sin feelings:

1. 1. 2. 3. 4.

How many times did I repeat this action? How often do I put myself in unnecessary contact with an environment conducive to committing it? Did anything bad happen to me after the sin? (Even if unrelated to the act itself) Did anyone I was trying to hide from catch me in the act? If so, how did it make me feel? Did I sacrifice any acts of worship as a result of the sin? (i.e. Listening to music instead of Quran. Going to a party instead of the masjid)

Game Plan!
1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14.

Imagine having to stand in front of Allah and watch the sin being committed in front of me, then having to explain it. Imagine having to be burned by fire for every time I commit the sin. Pray two rakaah and sincerely seek forgiveness from Allah. Ask Allah to grant me the strength to deal with withdrawal symptoms of the sin. Make a commitment to never return to that sin again. Seek forgiveness from the people I hurt with this sin (if applicable). Designate a self-enforced punishment if I do it again (i.e soap in mouth/cursing). Perform an act of charity and/or extra prayers to make up for the sin. Eliminate all mediums that could be used to pull me back into the sin (i.e. delete phone numbers, deactivate Facebook account, change email address, etc.) Look for a permissible alternate to my sin. Disassociate either gradually or immediately from the people who either commit the same sin or encourage me to commit the sin. Surround myself with people who abhor the sin and will help me refocus. Make a pact with someone in a similar situation to leave that sin for good. Keep my eye on the prize! Realize that if Allah does not replace what Ive lost with something in this dunya, then He will do so in jannah, or even both, inshAllah.

Verily, your Lord is of vast forgiveness. [al-Najm 53:32] A calamity which makes you turn to Allah is better for you than a blessing which makes you forget the remembrance of Allah. Ibn Taymiyyah

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MEET THE E-BOARD!

Sami Ur Rabb - President
Being Muslim in America is not always easy. The function of a Muslim Students Association is to help Muslims in all levels of faith comfortably find their niche. From my experiences, I know this isnt easy to do alone. Hence, attaching ourselves to a community is essential. A fulfilling college experience will come by getting involved on campus. MSA is a great place to start because you are networking, engaging in thought provoking conversations, learning about opportunities on and off campus, all while knowing that Islam should be at the forefront.

College is a life changing experience. A college students life is changed because of the knowledge he receives in the classroom as well as the people he comes across on campus outside the classroom. Within this great educational institution, the MSA also has the ability to have a life-changing effect in itself. It too is a place which provides knowledge and the company of unique individuals. In addition, it offers something more: an environment which fosters spiritual growth as well. Working together, we can all have a hand in creating a very memorable and beneficial experience; a cherishable experience that will prove fruitful to success in this life and the next, InshAllah.

Haleema Sajid - Vice President

Rifat Ahmed - Treasurer

MSA to me is an Alliance of Muslim Brothers and Sisters, who work together to make their Akhirah(Afterlife) and the Dunya (worldy life) a better place. As a Freshman, I found it difficult with the transition from High School to college. I am sure many other brothers and sisters are having the same difficulties. I am sure with the assistance of an experienced college student; the younger students will feel some sort of ease through this transition into the real world. Building bonds with other brothers and sisters is a really big part of having a successful MSA.

MSA is a community where everyone works together to help each other grow in our faith and increase our iman. Its a place where we can learn and practice our faith in our hectic college schedules.

Nadia Majeed - Secretary

Irma Khawaja - Community Service

MSA is a great organization that helps maintain or restore faith in any Muslim it reaches. It helps bring together a group of people who are connected through Islam. We, as members, have seen great leaders keep this organization running. I have been greatly influenced and inspired by these leaders to become a better Muslim and also to become more involved on campus. This is the same thing that I believe that I could help achieve for others.

I see MSA as an organization that brings together the brothers and sisters of faith, but also I see it as an organization that furthers understanding about Islam and educates the followers of Islam. However, it is essential to enlighten the followers of other faiths to promote peaceful coexistence.

Fabian Severson - Public Relations