I was raised to think for myself and not, as my mother pointed out, to join a religion that oppressed women.
My family roots are Christian but my parents rejected organized religion as the tool of men.
I attended church during our visits to grandparents. My father was US Army and those visits were rare. We shipped off to Iran when I was 6 and returned to the US when I was 12.
When my family returned to the US we moved to Tucson. We knew no one. What my parents did not realize was that they had moved us into a place with a LOT of violence. I had no experience with fighting. The Iranians weren’t out fighting in the streets, and I went to a private school. These kids knew how to fight and had a pecking order. When I did not hit back, I became the target of any girl who wanted to move up. I learned to hit back.
I never asked my parents for help. I had no adult to talk to.
We moved after a year, but it was too late. I was always ready to fight. That didn’t get me the kind of friends I needed.
We moved again. I made better friends.
I hated school and my mother found me an alternative. Project MORE saved me. I was able to talk to adults who cared. I made good friends, people who had morals and courage. Belly dance was a craze like Zumba is today and I learned it.
In college, I started teaching belly dance. I was looking for musicians and asked some foreign students. They said ‘”We knew musicians and come over”. I took a friend with me and went to their apartment. There was a translated Quran and I was drawn to it
I panicked when that book touched my heart. The last thing I wanted was to belong to an organized religion. I studied it to reject the book and go on with my plans
Every time I thought I found a lie, someone would explain. I met a graduate student from Egypt. Layla was very patient with my questions. She overlooked my arrogant American assumptions.
I chose truth.
Recently I found my Shahada papers, dated 9/11/1996.
I am grateful to Allah that he called me. I hope to live and die as a Muslim.