Ramadan Kareem.

Yesterday marked the first day of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan--a 30 day period of fasting from sunrise to sunset, worship through giving and prayer, personal growth, and communal traditions. Although I am not celebrating Ramadan myself, I feel a sort of warmth as this month begins, knowing how deeply many of my Muslim friends cherish this time. 

In recognition of this special season, I have spent some time thinking about the many ways my own life has been touched by dear Muslim friends and families throughout the years...

I am reminded of my first Muslim friend in high school, sweet and spunky Alia, who patiently answered my questions about her faith and invited me to her graduation celebration, where I first learned how much Arabs love to party :)

I think fondly of the Iraqi families I got to know in the refugee community of Clarkston, Georgia, back when I was just beginning to study Arabic. I smile widely remembering summers spent with my precious Iraqi girls--all of the laughter, silly games, messy art projects, and serious life conversations. I cared for those girls like they were my sisters--proudly celebrating their accomplishments and dreaming for their futures. I won't soon forget each of their distinct little personalities, or the creative ways they showed love. 

Celebrating my birthday with these sweet girls from Iraq

I remember starting college and meeting Noor, a Saudi student studying abroad who quickly became one of my closest friends. We met for lunch every single week, wanting to get to know each other beyond the stereotypes often prevalent between our communities. We learned that we had much more in common than either of us had imagined, and sought to share this discovery with others--through planning dinners to bring our Muslim and Christian friends together, and even speaking at public events on campus. This remarkable woman taught me so much about the beauty of faith, courage, and sisterhood that transcends barriers. 

Noor and I at a Thanksgiving dinner
we planned together

Other Muslim friends whom I met in college stand out as well. I recall being welcomed to participate in many gatherings where we ate delicious meals, swapped stories over Arabic coffee, and danced late into the night (well, they tried to teach me how to dance, but that didn't go super well). One time, a couple of friends actually invited me to take part in their Ramadan traditions--fasting during the day then sharing the iftar meal together in their home, complete with gracious explanations of what this holiday meant to them. I so appreciate the openness, hospitality, and kindness I consistently experienced through these friendships. 

With a friend I met at Georgia State

I also met Muslim students who are passionate activists in their communities, fighting for social change and the recognition of human rights for all. We worked together on various projects, and I witnessed how their faith both informed and strengthened their desire for justice. I also noticed a remarkable willingness to partner with people from other faith backgrounds to work towards shared ideals and goals.

Most recently, as you may know, I spent five months living in Palestine, where of course I met many Muslims. One of the highlights of this experience was time spent with my friend Aya's family, in a neighborhood of East Jerusalem within walking distance of the famous al-Aqsa mosque. This family was generous towards me in every way, but I think I felt most honored when they invited me to visit the mosque with them. Her sisters all ensured I felt comfortable and offered me a history lesson, along with tales of their own experiences, as we were on our way. I cannot imagine a more special way to experience this sacred place.  

Visiting al-Aqsa with Aya and her sisters 

Thinking about all of these people and the crossing of our paths, my heart fills with such joy and gratitude. However, I also feel sadness and frustration, knowing that many other non-Muslims hold very different, and often very harmful, perceptions of Muslim people. I hate that many Americans know nothing of Muslims apart from the biased and dehumanizing presentations they are likely to see on the news. I get angry when I hear comments like Islam is a religion of violence that teaches its adherents to hate, or Muslims are backwards, primitive people—a detriment to society. Or when people ask me questions like: You are studying the Middle East? Why would you want to go there? Aren’t you afraid of those people?

Now, I can't speak for all Muslims in the world, but I can speak from my own experiences. In the overwhelming majority of my conversations and interactions, Muslim people have shown through their words and actions that their religion leads them towards loving others, even outsiders, and respecting those who are different from them. I have learned so much, and been loved so well, by the many Muslims I have been blessed to know. I have also been challenged—to see the world from a different perspective, and to recognize that all religious/racial/national groups resist stereotyping because of the simple fact that they are made up of humans.

So to the non-Muslims reading this, I challenge you this Ramadan to step out of your comfort zone, perhaps for the first time, and try your best to get to know a Muslim person--regardless of differences in religion, race, cultural practices, or whatever else may stop you. Look for events in your community, attend a meeting on campus, or just say hello to a stranger. Question the prejudices you may hold. Ask questions instead of making assumptions. Listen, learn, and be inspired. Be open to changing your mind, and more importantly your heart.

And to my Muslim friends around the globe, I wish you the very best during this Ramadan season. I hope you feel renewed, encouraged, and empowered. Thank you for offering compassion and generosity towards me and our world.