assalamu alaikum,
I had the most horrifying, terrifying, distressing conversation with my brother JW yesterday.
Apparently he is off his meds. And suicidal. And extremely depressed.
Please pray. For his sanity and health. For mine. For my entire family.
It's extremely stressful to know that I feel behind and inadequate at work and to be the one my brother wants to help 'prop' him mentally.
Yesterday was a great day of tutoring for me- until I was talking to JW at one point on my cell phone while driving (which I detest doing- driving on the cell, I mean) the most narrow hair-raisingly constructed highway in the region in the huge Pimp Car (tm) hearing him tell me, after I told him quite forcefully that suicide is not an option and we'll help him work this out, "I wasn't actually asking for permission."
Okay, so what were you doing, giving me notice?!
My response:
"Good, because you aren't getting it!"
Just, please, pray. I need a mental health day and I don't have one. I need reinforcement. Dua'a requested.
peace
TwennyTwo
Monday, February 11, 2008
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Here
Assalamu alaikum,
Man, the past week has been a big one. Tornadoes and sugar plant explosions in the south. I came to work and the first thing one of my co-workers mentioned after good-morning was that 49 people had died in the storms. She was clearly shaken- until that point, I'd had no idea. Plus the primaries are making people nuts. Duas, always dua'a.
I'm feeling better and trying to make the weekend as uneventful as possible. InshaAllah I'm getting away from the negativity, even if it makes for less writing. I'm fighting the isolation I've been able to marinate in since moving to Conservopolis. It's wierd how into things you are just by living in the DC Metro area, and being away from it is kind of numbing. I just have to be more proactive about information than I did there.
While at halaqa (tuesday, not sunday) I completely went off into a tangent with Samina, asked her the story of how she and her husband met. Those are like my fairy tales, you know? I love to hear those stories. They give me hope. InshaAllah, one day. But she's also got me convinced (again) that I actually could do med school and then when I came out get rid of the debt. To tell you the truth, it's always the money in a situation that worries me, especially when I'm thinking about going back to school. But I really want either the nurse-midwifery or a medical degree. And Samina said that the people who seemed to do best were those who were married (humph) with kids (eg had a family- that I do have, even if my father will have thirty kinds of fits when I say, hey I want to go to med school. don't get me started.) Once I start, I won't let myself stop... inshaAllah. All things come from God.
Man, and we're reading the best book I've ever seen re:Qur'an in English for that same halaqa. It's called An Introduction to the Sciences of the Qur'aan, by Abu Ammaar Yasir Qadhi. I'm sure part of it is that since I've started going to this halaqa the whole subject has become even more interesting, but this book is also just well-written. I've not felt this excited about tafsir related anything since I almost bought Maarif ulQur'an after East Zone last year. Still debating that one.
Turns out I won't be able to go to MSA East Zone this year, which stinks. Elle is really upset, and I was looking forward to seeing everyone and getting into some fun with them. I also wanted to see Taraal since apparently he and Elle have gotten to the whole parent-meeting stage of not-quite-courtship. Super exciting that I was there when they met! SubhanAllah.
So yeah, everything is everything. I hope the same is for you.
peace
Twenny
Man, the past week has been a big one. Tornadoes and sugar plant explosions in the south. I came to work and the first thing one of my co-workers mentioned after good-morning was that 49 people had died in the storms. She was clearly shaken- until that point, I'd had no idea. Plus the primaries are making people nuts. Duas, always dua'a.
I'm feeling better and trying to make the weekend as uneventful as possible. InshaAllah I'm getting away from the negativity, even if it makes for less writing. I'm fighting the isolation I've been able to marinate in since moving to Conservopolis. It's wierd how into things you are just by living in the DC Metro area, and being away from it is kind of numbing. I just have to be more proactive about information than I did there.
While at halaqa (tuesday, not sunday) I completely went off into a tangent with Samina, asked her the story of how she and her husband met. Those are like my fairy tales, you know? I love to hear those stories. They give me hope. InshaAllah, one day. But she's also got me convinced (again) that I actually could do med school and then when I came out get rid of the debt. To tell you the truth, it's always the money in a situation that worries me, especially when I'm thinking about going back to school. But I really want either the nurse-midwifery or a medical degree. And Samina said that the people who seemed to do best were those who were married (humph) with kids (eg had a family- that I do have, even if my father will have thirty kinds of fits when I say, hey I want to go to med school. don't get me started.) Once I start, I won't let myself stop... inshaAllah. All things come from God.
Man, and we're reading the best book I've ever seen re:Qur'an in English for that same halaqa. It's called An Introduction to the Sciences of the Qur'aan, by Abu Ammaar Yasir Qadhi. I'm sure part of it is that since I've started going to this halaqa the whole subject has become even more interesting, but this book is also just well-written. I've not felt this excited about tafsir related anything since I almost bought Maarif ulQur'an after East Zone last year. Still debating that one.
Turns out I won't be able to go to MSA East Zone this year, which stinks. Elle is really upset, and I was looking forward to seeing everyone and getting into some fun with them. I also wanted to see Taraal since apparently he and Elle have gotten to the whole parent-meeting stage of not-quite-courtship. Super exciting that I was there when they met! SubhanAllah.
So yeah, everything is everything. I hope the same is for you.
peace
Twenny
Sunday, February 03, 2008
There's assistance and then there's that.
Assalamu alaikum,
Yes, I'm blogging in front of the Super Bowl. I'm on my sister's computer and she's TiVo'd it, so we re-watch the good commercials and kinda zone out on the rest. I'm taking the opportunity to do some blogging. So what?
Besides, the Patriots always win, it's nearly as sickening as those Yankees a couple years ago.
I had a really interesting conversation with "my assistant", the other teacher in my room half a day. I've had some real issues with her attitude, not least because I was given to understand that she was there in part so that I could rely on her greater experience in the early childhood education arena.
Because, while I do believe (alhamdulIllah) I'm capable of teaching children this young, there are things about teaching them that I just don't know, not having experience nor training in ECE and not having had children this age myself. And then when I came, and asked for her help in certain things, I got a lot of pushback from her, outright... insolence, I guess.
What really chapped my buns was that ultimately, I feel that the kids in the room are the ones who pay with an inferior level of education. Then, she was transferred to KG for half a day in the afternoon. While that brought relief on the one hand (no one judging me in my own classroom, refusing to take initiative yet making suggestions after the fact as to how I'm doing things incorrectly), it also upset me that she felt better in the KG room without at least trying to express any problems she had outright. I do NOT tolerate gossipping in the workplace, so I kept that to my family and confidants, but that whole situation wasn't (and isn't , but we've cleared the air... I'm getting there) helping my mental status.
Then I picked up some guts and finally just asked her to work with the older kids in group time with their literacy. I've been trying to do that, especially as some of the older ones can read and need more instruction. I pulled them out 3 times a week, but I know that she had done that sort of thing before. She let me know something that shocked me and made me understand her attitude: she makes less than $16,000 a year. And she does so simply because she doesn't have a bachelor's degree. SHe works the same hours I do, has 5 years of experience in pre-school, but is making less than half what starting teachers are offered.
No wonder.
So, I let her know that I needed her expertise. And further, the kids needed it. I understood, finally, why she had acted the way she did, but I'd gladly take on some things that she had been doing, if she'd apply her great innovative ideas to the older reading group. I said that I needed to be able to watch her, because while it was inspiring to hear her say that they needed to do more manipulative activities and less paperwork, being that all my experience and training is with adults and children at least 9 years old, the ideas are slow coming and hard to put into place. And I told her that I absolutely agree that her pay level is unjust.
It's getting better. I hope. I mean, I still sense that attitude and am much quicker to come out of my mouth and ask her if she's angry about something, but she's working with the kids, and has sent a letter to the parents saying as much, and I'm looking at what she does and learning from her activity. *sigh*.
It makes me realize a couple of things, one being that although I am competent to look after and teach pre-schoolers, it's not where I'm most involved and passionate. That's in part why I've taken so many tutoring spots; it cuts my time, but I LOVE teaching students that age, really showing my passion for learning. Plus, it's easier to help them fully understand what their teachers set them, stretch their minds, and think beyond where they are.
Pre-school- that's possible, especially when we can go outdoors and explore, or plant seeds, or just wonder at the creation of Allah, but it's a whole lot harder for me to wrap my head around indoors. And I have no- ZERO- prep time scheduled into my day, which I finally understand is just flat unfair. Bad enough I'm just now getting to pray dhuhr thanks to an awesome sister who's student-teaching and watches my people for 10 minutes. She's been a godsend, really. Worse that I see that creative materials are needed and that I have to create them- or have time to tell someone else how to create them- and I have to do that on my own scant time. The only non-scheduled time I have during the school day is lunch, for 45 minutes. I'm still training for the marathon and I don't want to give it up for less than life-changing reasons. I tutor and I go to halaqas, I go to the gym and then I go home- when I deviate from that I do things like nearly break my wrist and then have sucky weeks.
Something has to give, and until now the kids haven't been getting the education that I know they could get. I don't think that their education is inadequate, nor is their care. But I've always been one to want to be the absolute best at what I do. To not do so for whatever reason just bothers the mess out of me. It's probably half of my issues now.
Man, where did my positive blog posts go?
Anyway.
peace
Yes, I'm blogging in front of the Super Bowl. I'm on my sister's computer and she's TiVo'd it, so we re-watch the good commercials and kinda zone out on the rest. I'm taking the opportunity to do some blogging. So what?
Besides, the Patriots always win, it's nearly as sickening as those Yankees a couple years ago.
I had a really interesting conversation with "my assistant", the other teacher in my room half a day. I've had some real issues with her attitude, not least because I was given to understand that she was there in part so that I could rely on her greater experience in the early childhood education arena.
Because, while I do believe (alhamdulIllah) I'm capable of teaching children this young, there are things about teaching them that I just don't know, not having experience nor training in ECE and not having had children this age myself. And then when I came, and asked for her help in certain things, I got a lot of pushback from her, outright... insolence, I guess.
What really chapped my buns was that ultimately, I feel that the kids in the room are the ones who pay with an inferior level of education. Then, she was transferred to KG for half a day in the afternoon. While that brought relief on the one hand (no one judging me in my own classroom, refusing to take initiative yet making suggestions after the fact as to how I'm doing things incorrectly), it also upset me that she felt better in the KG room without at least trying to express any problems she had outright. I do NOT tolerate gossipping in the workplace, so I kept that to my family and confidants, but that whole situation wasn't (and isn't , but we've cleared the air... I'm getting there) helping my mental status.
Then I picked up some guts and finally just asked her to work with the older kids in group time with their literacy. I've been trying to do that, especially as some of the older ones can read and need more instruction. I pulled them out 3 times a week, but I know that she had done that sort of thing before. She let me know something that shocked me and made me understand her attitude: she makes less than $16,000 a year. And she does so simply because she doesn't have a bachelor's degree. SHe works the same hours I do, has 5 years of experience in pre-school, but is making less than half what starting teachers are offered.
No wonder.
So, I let her know that I needed her expertise. And further, the kids needed it. I understood, finally, why she had acted the way she did, but I'd gladly take on some things that she had been doing, if she'd apply her great innovative ideas to the older reading group. I said that I needed to be able to watch her, because while it was inspiring to hear her say that they needed to do more manipulative activities and less paperwork, being that all my experience and training is with adults and children at least 9 years old, the ideas are slow coming and hard to put into place. And I told her that I absolutely agree that her pay level is unjust.
It's getting better. I hope. I mean, I still sense that attitude and am much quicker to come out of my mouth and ask her if she's angry about something, but she's working with the kids, and has sent a letter to the parents saying as much, and I'm looking at what she does and learning from her activity. *sigh*.
It makes me realize a couple of things, one being that although I am competent to look after and teach pre-schoolers, it's not where I'm most involved and passionate. That's in part why I've taken so many tutoring spots; it cuts my time, but I LOVE teaching students that age, really showing my passion for learning. Plus, it's easier to help them fully understand what their teachers set them, stretch their minds, and think beyond where they are.
Pre-school- that's possible, especially when we can go outdoors and explore, or plant seeds, or just wonder at the creation of Allah, but it's a whole lot harder for me to wrap my head around indoors. And I have no- ZERO- prep time scheduled into my day, which I finally understand is just flat unfair. Bad enough I'm just now getting to pray dhuhr thanks to an awesome sister who's student-teaching and watches my people for 10 minutes. She's been a godsend, really. Worse that I see that creative materials are needed and that I have to create them- or have time to tell someone else how to create them- and I have to do that on my own scant time. The only non-scheduled time I have during the school day is lunch, for 45 minutes. I'm still training for the marathon and I don't want to give it up for less than life-changing reasons. I tutor and I go to halaqas, I go to the gym and then I go home- when I deviate from that I do things like nearly break my wrist and then have sucky weeks.
Something has to give, and until now the kids haven't been getting the education that I know they could get. I don't think that their education is inadequate, nor is their care. But I've always been one to want to be the absolute best at what I do. To not do so for whatever reason just bothers the mess out of me. It's probably half of my issues now.
Man, where did my positive blog posts go?
Anyway.
peace
Therapeutic.
assalamu alaikum,
I've come to just accept the fact that I need to be seeing a therapist- or at least someone I can talk to about various issues etc who has to keep them confidential and can help me identify hitches in my thinking and self-control. Yes, that would be a therapist. I asked my halaqa leader today if he knew of some and he said he'd forward the numbers to me.
When I left DC, I knew that being in Conservopolis would help me solve a lot of my financial issues, those related to the cost of living. I thought that I'd be able to put more of my cash toward bringing down my credit debt, and I was right about that. But certain things are causing me distress, and I don't know how to fix them. I see a repeating pattern that isn't cool. Typical example? Aversion to outward organization. I hate. i. mean. utterly. detest. creating lesson plans- which is a problem seeing as how I earn my living as a teacher. I don't like any sort of paperwork at all. What I live for and thrive on is the actual teaching, the more individualized work.
That plus the feeling of being ill at ease and slightly ill for months now, means that something is up.
Worst is that I don't feel comfortable telling that to my family. We've got enough issues as it is. I just don't have the fortitude to tell my mother, for example, that I think I'm totally depresed, that I don't feel I have the time or inclination to do the things required to do my job well. Keep in mind that naturally my family draws a lot of parallels between me and JW. He just came out of the hospital and is fighting taking his meds still. I know something is not right, and I do talk the day-to-day things out with my mother, which is an absolute lifesaver, but I'm just reluctant to tell her that I think I'm slipping and may need more. She told me today that she's recovering, that she feels better, after years of dealing with various illnesses, her own and my grandmother's. I don't want to pull her down now- she's my rock and my lifeboat and it's good to finally see her feeling well.
When it got really bad in portareeco, I went to see the severely overloaded shrink at the teacher's hospital. I just knew that the thoughts I was thinking were a little out of the bounds, that everything was getting messier and a little less sane daily, that I was way stressed. The shrink told me I'd be okay. She gave me pills. I didn't want to take them but when I did, I declare they saved my life. They were samples, and I don't know that she entered all of that into my medical file, but by the time they ran out I was on summer break, a little more able to deal, only working one job, and (though I didn't know it yet) very close to returning to the mainland, which I thought would help. It did, and it didn't, because though being near the ones who understand me best is crucial, it isn't the ultimate fix. I don't know what is. I do know I have to get out of my head.
This blog started as an experiment, on a dare from Sherry, who I don't think even blogs anymore. Come to think of it, she pulled me through when I was going through major blues even in college. She and Anita. Anyway, the point I was going to make is that it quickly became therapeutic. When I was physically isolated from the familiar, I had my friends inside the computer to pull me through. I still had horizons to explore. It helped to just talk stuff out, even if it was inside the computer. No matter how cautious you are and how stiff the boundary with those you don't know, caring comes through. It was very necessary to speak up, let my 'self' be free, examine myself and what's going on and yeah, get to know other people and care for them too. I sometimes felt- and feel- that what keeps me hanging on is knowing that someone out there really truly needs me, cares for me, wants to see me every day. Hmm.
No matter where, when I start shutting down, going inside my head, and talking noticeably less, something is up. I'm working on getting it together. And getting it out a bit more. Of course I'm making dua'a. And asking for more, because of course this is when my level of iman is ebbing. It suffers.
peace
TwennyTwo
I've come to just accept the fact that I need to be seeing a therapist- or at least someone I can talk to about various issues etc who has to keep them confidential and can help me identify hitches in my thinking and self-control. Yes, that would be a therapist. I asked my halaqa leader today if he knew of some and he said he'd forward the numbers to me.
When I left DC, I knew that being in Conservopolis would help me solve a lot of my financial issues, those related to the cost of living. I thought that I'd be able to put more of my cash toward bringing down my credit debt, and I was right about that. But certain things are causing me distress, and I don't know how to fix them. I see a repeating pattern that isn't cool. Typical example? Aversion to outward organization. I hate. i. mean. utterly. detest. creating lesson plans- which is a problem seeing as how I earn my living as a teacher. I don't like any sort of paperwork at all. What I live for and thrive on is the actual teaching, the more individualized work.
That plus the feeling of being ill at ease and slightly ill for months now, means that something is up.
Worst is that I don't feel comfortable telling that to my family. We've got enough issues as it is. I just don't have the fortitude to tell my mother, for example, that I think I'm totally depresed, that I don't feel I have the time or inclination to do the things required to do my job well. Keep in mind that naturally my family draws a lot of parallels between me and JW. He just came out of the hospital and is fighting taking his meds still. I know something is not right, and I do talk the day-to-day things out with my mother, which is an absolute lifesaver, but I'm just reluctant to tell her that I think I'm slipping and may need more. She told me today that she's recovering, that she feels better, after years of dealing with various illnesses, her own and my grandmother's. I don't want to pull her down now- she's my rock and my lifeboat and it's good to finally see her feeling well.
When it got really bad in portareeco, I went to see the severely overloaded shrink at the teacher's hospital. I just knew that the thoughts I was thinking were a little out of the bounds, that everything was getting messier and a little less sane daily, that I was way stressed. The shrink told me I'd be okay. She gave me pills. I didn't want to take them but when I did, I declare they saved my life. They were samples, and I don't know that she entered all of that into my medical file, but by the time they ran out I was on summer break, a little more able to deal, only working one job, and (though I didn't know it yet) very close to returning to the mainland, which I thought would help. It did, and it didn't, because though being near the ones who understand me best is crucial, it isn't the ultimate fix. I don't know what is. I do know I have to get out of my head.
This blog started as an experiment, on a dare from Sherry, who I don't think even blogs anymore. Come to think of it, she pulled me through when I was going through major blues even in college. She and Anita. Anyway, the point I was going to make is that it quickly became therapeutic. When I was physically isolated from the familiar, I had my friends inside the computer to pull me through. I still had horizons to explore. It helped to just talk stuff out, even if it was inside the computer. No matter how cautious you are and how stiff the boundary with those you don't know, caring comes through. It was very necessary to speak up, let my 'self' be free, examine myself and what's going on and yeah, get to know other people and care for them too. I sometimes felt- and feel- that what keeps me hanging on is knowing that someone out there really truly needs me, cares for me, wants to see me every day. Hmm.
No matter where, when I start shutting down, going inside my head, and talking noticeably less, something is up. I'm working on getting it together. And getting it out a bit more. Of course I'm making dua'a. And asking for more, because of course this is when my level of iman is ebbing. It suffers.
peace
TwennyTwo
Monday, January 21, 2008
I'm supposed to be getting the Pimp Car (tm) fixed.
assalamu alaikum,
And I will get it fixed. Before y'all jump on me for calling it anything associated with a noun traditionally meaning someone/a trade that oppresses women, just stop. Go google 1987 Chevrolet Caprice. Then come back and tell me I'm wrong.
But one night of sleep later and I'm still thinking of something that's been bothering me; mainly that I'm languishing in a world of women. See the comment above. I'd never have made it two years ago. You gotta problem with me calling it a pimp car? Aiight, sounds like your problem.
This is a personal problem. I tried to go over it with someone else here and it fell flat. My mother understands how I feel though. I think I've tried to go over it before; I didn't know that this feeling would follow me.
I don't really like women all that much.
No, that's not true.
I like women a lot, can chill and work with other women just fine. I need to say, gratefully, that I have been welcomed with assistance and open arms and open doors just about everywhere in the Ummacommunity here in Conservopolis. I just don't function at my peak, or do well emotionally, being around all women, all the time. Yes. That's it. This 24-hour women station is getting on my nerves. When I was in DC working as an interpreter/admin, the same thing got to me. I was living with two women (who later developed their own drama), TheGreatestBossEver (man) had left, leaving me in a place where 5 women and 1 man worked regularly. The man was the finance guy, so I didn't have much to do with him, but sometimes his presence did mitigate things. And one of the women took an active dislike to me but I digress. Even without the drama that woman caused I felt like I was gonna strangle one of these CHICKS. Eccccchhhh.
Then I got the job at Grocery Store, where the manager was Lisette, and she has another female trainee working her way to the top, but many of the others were guys. That worked well. I felt like I could let off some steam and be my straight-shooting self without having to worry about emotions and cattiness and moodiness all the time. A lot of the guys were teenagers so I got to be big sister all over again, in work-mode of course. And truthfully, my last set of roomies was the best because... they weren't very socially girly. We weren't all mushy and dramatic- one had her engagement break off and didn't engage in the hysterics and I felt able to help her through it without drowning in it.
Because my job was so public, there was never anything inappropriate but I felt/feel at ease in the um relaxed? way that men interact. I don't know why girls hit puberty and do all sorts of tension-causing things. But I do think I know why I was miserable almost all of my seventh-grade year when it came to friends. I was trying to fit in with the girls. I quit that mess and was happy through senior year... when I had to work with a bunch of girls again. I was good in college (athlete in a sport pretty much dominated by men with a strong women's team, then mentored by male student leaders who were years older than I) until I started trying to be more "halal in my interactions" and join sororities and stuff. Hmm. I think I'm seeing a pattern.
So I moved to Conservopolis, and that was a blessing from Allah all wrapped up in a bow. Alhamdulillah! No qualifications. I came here, I have a place to stay with my family and I see my sibs all the time, I feel like the pimp car was, again, wrapped up and presented to me (and has had NO problems until the other day when the wipers shut off as I was heading down a major highway at 9PM in a rainstorm at about 70MPH... yeah that was an iman-building moment), I have a couple jobs where I'm surrounded by Muslims. And by the end of any given day my teeth are on edge. Too many women? Not enough men? I'm thinking it's one of the two. To be truthful, it's leavened by the fact that all of my tutoring gigs involve my teaching boys.
So I was face-up on my bed trying to make sense of this, and my moms came to speak to me (one of the truly marvelous things about living in Conservopolis. Random Mama Access when I need it. AlHamdulillah), and as she was leaving I think I asked her did I always tend to get sort of depressed around girls. Or something like that. She paused at the doorjamb and told me, "I've been thinking about that. You know, I realize that Islam has some aspects that are good for you. And you need them. So that's good that you're in it. But I worry about you. You're around nothing but women all day long, and you have never done well like that. Are you sure that this being separated from men is a religious requirement? Or is it cultural? Because you can take the religion and leave the culture, you know."
Yup. My mama said that. Or pretty close to it. I kid you not. So first, a takbir that she's actually said 'Hey, I know Islam is right for you'.
But. Um, yeah, the person who can lay claim to knowing me best in the world pretty much outlines the exact same concern I have. And yes, I did tell her why I know that this particular way of being is part of the deen and not just cultural. She and my sister find the idea of not dating at all completely foreign. I shall not start down that path, only say that it ain't for me ANYway, something I decided BEFORE I was Muslim, because God knows what He's doing.
Is this something fix-able? I have no idea. I mean, I can... try to join the MSA at University of Conservopolis. I went to one of their events the other day, and it was a lot of fun. Everyone was separated, like there was no pairing off or anything like that, but everyone was having a good time and there was the chance for a couple of comments and the hum of the jokes in the background. The leader of my Sunday halaqa was there (we all respect him and look up to him so things were definitely kept on the halal more than usual), and everyone was having a good time.
At the same time, when you put people in the mix like that, folk start seeing things. One brother pulled me aside and asked me for advice because he 'saw' one of the older brothers flirting with one of the sisters. He claimed that he wasn't alone and there were others, his question being, what should he do? Step to the guy and tell him to quit flirting? Talk to the sister involved or to her older sibling? Say nothing? *sigh* Even with the best of intentions someone has to mess something up. I mean that empirically, without pointing any fingers at anyone in that mess. (I might talk a bit about that particular situation later, since it involves people who were at camp, and I don't know that I want to go there without talking out my camp issues. And I might not talk about it at all.)
I don't see a whole lot I can do. As my sister pointed out, my social interaction is very limited between trying to be good and pattern my interaction on the teachings of the Prophet as I learn them, and on the other side being a product of my culture and particular upbringing. I think I will join the UC MSA, that might help. (I'm concentrating VERY HARD on not thinking about a certain man I know is in that group. I don't want to join if Ima get crush-a-licious, I don't need that either.) I should also note that my interactions with my father and brother are not where they could be- one brother is on the West Coast, one is ill and needs my support, not the other way around, and my father and I both work hours where we don't see each other much. When we do, we talk about the Pimp Car. So my outs aren't really outs.
I guess this is the non-romantic side of my whining back in the day. I'm more intellectual, more jocular, less outwardly-focused than the women around me, and when I do find women like that, they're busy and don't have the ability to be friends. Much. I'm working on a couple of sisters at work who are younger and less dramatic, getting to know them better- of course, they work at the other side of the school, the middle school, which is where I trained probably because that's where my personality lies.
Ladies, if you've read this far, thank you. Please shed some light as you will. Guys, I'm not trying to leave you out, just doubtful any male readers still lurk here. And if you're lurking thanks for listening. My father (and my gut)insists that I get the Pimp Car fixed- I was supposed to be there two hours ago, so I'm outta here...
peace
TwennyTwo
And I will get it fixed. Before y'all jump on me for calling it anything associated with a noun traditionally meaning someone/a trade that oppresses women, just stop. Go google 1987 Chevrolet Caprice. Then come back and tell me I'm wrong.
But one night of sleep later and I'm still thinking of something that's been bothering me; mainly that I'm languishing in a world of women. See the comment above. I'd never have made it two years ago. You gotta problem with me calling it a pimp car? Aiight, sounds like your problem.
This is a personal problem. I tried to go over it with someone else here and it fell flat. My mother understands how I feel though. I think I've tried to go over it before; I didn't know that this feeling would follow me.
I don't really like women all that much.
No, that's not true.
I like women a lot, can chill and work with other women just fine. I need to say, gratefully, that I have been welcomed with assistance and open arms and open doors just about everywhere in the Ummacommunity here in Conservopolis. I just don't function at my peak, or do well emotionally, being around all women, all the time. Yes. That's it. This 24-hour women station is getting on my nerves. When I was in DC working as an interpreter/admin, the same thing got to me. I was living with two women (who later developed their own drama), TheGreatestBossEver (man) had left, leaving me in a place where 5 women and 1 man worked regularly. The man was the finance guy, so I didn't have much to do with him, but sometimes his presence did mitigate things. And one of the women took an active dislike to me but I digress. Even without the drama that woman caused I felt like I was gonna strangle one of these CHICKS. Eccccchhhh.
Then I got the job at Grocery Store, where the manager was Lisette, and she has another female trainee working her way to the top, but many of the others were guys. That worked well. I felt like I could let off some steam and be my straight-shooting self without having to worry about emotions and cattiness and moodiness all the time. A lot of the guys were teenagers so I got to be big sister all over again, in work-mode of course. And truthfully, my last set of roomies was the best because... they weren't very socially girly. We weren't all mushy and dramatic- one had her engagement break off and didn't engage in the hysterics and I felt able to help her through it without drowning in it.
Because my job was so public, there was never anything inappropriate but I felt/feel at ease in the um relaxed? way that men interact. I don't know why girls hit puberty and do all sorts of tension-causing things. But I do think I know why I was miserable almost all of my seventh-grade year when it came to friends. I was trying to fit in with the girls. I quit that mess and was happy through senior year... when I had to work with a bunch of girls again. I was good in college (athlete in a sport pretty much dominated by men with a strong women's team, then mentored by male student leaders who were years older than I) until I started trying to be more "halal in my interactions" and join sororities and stuff. Hmm. I think I'm seeing a pattern.
So I moved to Conservopolis, and that was a blessing from Allah all wrapped up in a bow. Alhamdulillah! No qualifications. I came here, I have a place to stay with my family and I see my sibs all the time, I feel like the pimp car was, again, wrapped up and presented to me (and has had NO problems until the other day when the wipers shut off as I was heading down a major highway at 9PM in a rainstorm at about 70MPH... yeah that was an iman-building moment), I have a couple jobs where I'm surrounded by Muslims. And by the end of any given day my teeth are on edge. Too many women? Not enough men? I'm thinking it's one of the two. To be truthful, it's leavened by the fact that all of my tutoring gigs involve my teaching boys.
So I was face-up on my bed trying to make sense of this, and my moms came to speak to me (one of the truly marvelous things about living in Conservopolis. Random Mama Access when I need it. AlHamdulillah), and as she was leaving I think I asked her did I always tend to get sort of depressed around girls. Or something like that. She paused at the doorjamb and told me, "I've been thinking about that. You know, I realize that Islam has some aspects that are good for you. And you need them. So that's good that you're in it. But I worry about you. You're around nothing but women all day long, and you have never done well like that. Are you sure that this being separated from men is a religious requirement? Or is it cultural? Because you can take the religion and leave the culture, you know."
Yup. My mama said that. Or pretty close to it. I kid you not. So first, a takbir that she's actually said 'Hey, I know Islam is right for you'.
But. Um, yeah, the person who can lay claim to knowing me best in the world pretty much outlines the exact same concern I have. And yes, I did tell her why I know that this particular way of being is part of the deen and not just cultural. She and my sister find the idea of not dating at all completely foreign. I shall not start down that path, only say that it ain't for me ANYway, something I decided BEFORE I was Muslim, because God knows what He's doing.
Is this something fix-able? I have no idea. I mean, I can... try to join the MSA at University of Conservopolis. I went to one of their events the other day, and it was a lot of fun. Everyone was separated, like there was no pairing off or anything like that, but everyone was having a good time and there was the chance for a couple of comments and the hum of the jokes in the background. The leader of my Sunday halaqa was there (we all respect him and look up to him so things were definitely kept on the halal more than usual), and everyone was having a good time.
At the same time, when you put people in the mix like that, folk start seeing things. One brother pulled me aside and asked me for advice because he 'saw' one of the older brothers flirting with one of the sisters. He claimed that he wasn't alone and there were others, his question being, what should he do? Step to the guy and tell him to quit flirting? Talk to the sister involved or to her older sibling? Say nothing? *sigh* Even with the best of intentions someone has to mess something up. I mean that empirically, without pointing any fingers at anyone in that mess. (I might talk a bit about that particular situation later, since it involves people who were at camp, and I don't know that I want to go there without talking out my camp issues. And I might not talk about it at all.)
I don't see a whole lot I can do. As my sister pointed out, my social interaction is very limited between trying to be good and pattern my interaction on the teachings of the Prophet as I learn them, and on the other side being a product of my culture and particular upbringing. I think I will join the UC MSA, that might help. (I'm concentrating VERY HARD on not thinking about a certain man I know is in that group. I don't want to join if Ima get crush-a-licious, I don't need that either.) I should also note that my interactions with my father and brother are not where they could be- one brother is on the West Coast, one is ill and needs my support, not the other way around, and my father and I both work hours where we don't see each other much. When we do, we talk about the Pimp Car. So my outs aren't really outs.
I guess this is the non-romantic side of my whining back in the day. I'm more intellectual, more jocular, less outwardly-focused than the women around me, and when I do find women like that, they're busy and don't have the ability to be friends. Much. I'm working on a couple of sisters at work who are younger and less dramatic, getting to know them better- of course, they work at the other side of the school, the middle school, which is where I trained probably because that's where my personality lies.
Ladies, if you've read this far, thank you. Please shed some light as you will. Guys, I'm not trying to leave you out, just doubtful any male readers still lurk here. And if you're lurking thanks for listening. My father (and my gut)insists that I get the Pimp Car fixed- I was supposed to be there two hours ago, so I'm outta here...
peace
TwennyTwo
Sunday, January 20, 2008
pffoo *dust flies* Lo, these many days later
assalamu alaikum,
I feel like I've forgotten how to blog. Life, you know.
Since i last blogged I went to MYNA camp (which wasn't the best experience but I've been saving the negatives to spew on my blog instead of to the many people I know who've asked), said hello to 2008, said hello to 1429, lost my voice (again), developed yet another impossible crush, changed my doctor, and gone skiing and sprained (please let it only be a sprain! amin) my wrist.
I'm still here and still reading y'all, so don't give up on me yet! I'll be back inshaAllah. I've been going to two halaqas and I'm picking up some fascinating things to discuss. I did want to participate in Baraka's anthology, but it looks like I've missed my chance. Still, it might be an interesting entry.
I hope Muharram and January are going well for you.
peace
TwennyTwo
I feel like I've forgotten how to blog. Life, you know.
Since i last blogged I went to MYNA camp (which wasn't the best experience but I've been saving the negatives to spew on my blog instead of to the many people I know who've asked), said hello to 2008, said hello to 1429, lost my voice (again), developed yet another impossible crush, changed my doctor, and gone skiing and sprained (please let it only be a sprain! amin) my wrist.
I'm still here and still reading y'all, so don't give up on me yet! I'll be back inshaAllah. I've been going to two halaqas and I'm picking up some fascinating things to discuss. I did want to participate in Baraka's anthology, but it looks like I've missed my chance. Still, it might be an interesting entry.
I hope Muharram and January are going well for you.
peace
TwennyTwo
Saturday, December 22, 2007
"Eid Mubarak!"
Assalamu alaikum wa rahmatullah wa barakatuh...
... Eid Mubarak was my reply to the smart cashier at the Tar-jay who wished my a Merry Christmas as a well-thought-out 'afterthought' on 'Eid day. And I wish all of you an Eid Sa'eed as well.
It has been doom and gloom around here for a while, sigh. I'm hoping to pick up the tone. Today gave me hope- it was my mother's birthday (she hit a milestone today, alhamdulIllah!), but was one of the warmest Winter solstice days I've ever seen- we hit 61 degrees! It was beautiful. And the moon shone brightly through hazy dark clouds as we drove back from dinner. InshaAllah better days are coming, and we won't be living in sorrow as much. My brother is well, all praises to God for that.
Me? I'm baking cookies. I'm on break from the academy until the 2nd of January, and from day 1 I've been resting and alternately cleaning. And MYNA camp begins on December 26th! This will be my first time as a counselor, so I'm making dua'a for a good experience.
Now, I promised this to Dictator Princess a while back, please indulge me. I love memes! Gank away if you like this one- you have to answer five questions, and then others can ask for an Interview in comments. Let me know if you want in, and I promise to think up some good questions, inshaAllah.
1. A repeat of a previous question:What do you know now that you wish you had known before you converted? I am not talking about "big bad Islam", I mean like what do you know now that could have made the journey easier?
2. Children scare me to death. You teach several. What would you tell me to be more at ease in their presence?
3. Speaking of small children, what do you like about teaching preschoolers versus teaching junior high kids (besides avoiding major 'tude)?
4. I know why it was important to me to find a French-speaking Hombre. In this post you mentioned you would like to have a Spanish-speaking Hombre. Why?
5. One month all expenses paid vacation anywhere in the world. Where would you go and why?
Thank you for the interview!
Eid Mubarak, y'all!!
peace
TwennyTwo
... Eid Mubarak was my reply to the smart cashier at the Tar-jay who wished my a Merry Christmas as a well-thought-out 'afterthought' on 'Eid day. And I wish all of you an Eid Sa'eed as well.
It has been doom and gloom around here for a while, sigh. I'm hoping to pick up the tone. Today gave me hope- it was my mother's birthday (she hit a milestone today, alhamdulIllah!), but was one of the warmest Winter solstice days I've ever seen- we hit 61 degrees! It was beautiful. And the moon shone brightly through hazy dark clouds as we drove back from dinner. InshaAllah better days are coming, and we won't be living in sorrow as much. My brother is well, all praises to God for that.
Me? I'm baking cookies. I'm on break from the academy until the 2nd of January, and from day 1 I've been resting and alternately cleaning. And MYNA camp begins on December 26th! This will be my first time as a counselor, so I'm making dua'a for a good experience.
Now, I promised this to Dictator Princess a while back, please indulge me. I love memes! Gank away if you like this one- you have to answer five questions, and then others can ask for an Interview in comments. Let me know if you want in, and I promise to think up some good questions, inshaAllah.
1. A repeat of a previous question:What do you know now that you wish you had known before you converted? I am not talking about "big bad Islam", I mean like what do you know now that could have made the journey easier?
On a practical level- I wish I'd waited to start observing hijab. That's only because I think I'd've ended up wearing it regardless, but to do it when I did did NOT make my life any easier. Yeah. I really wish that I'd remembered that the most beautiful part of Islam is what occurs inside as a result of what I do outside. I lost track of that. This is a hard question- rarely do I take stock of what I've learned like that.
2. Children scare me to death. You teach several. What would you tell me to be more at ease in their presence?
Honey, be easy! They're sturdier than they look- you won't break them! ;o) Be the adult you always wanted to be around- loving and playful, thoughtful, considerate, listening, yet with limitations and boundaries. Have in your mind the image of each child as an interesting person that you want to know and to show love and affection, and watch how they open to you and you to them. Someone had to remind me not to hide the love I had for my preschoolers- for adolescents, the way to be around them is to still be at ease with yourself, but also be thoughtful and principled. They see adults as examples.
3. Speaking of small children, what do you like about teaching preschoolers versus teaching junior high kids (besides avoiding major 'tude)?
Oh, hmm, I guess I started to answer this in my last answer. I love that the world is so shiny and new with the little ones. I mean... words that rhyme are a big deal to a four-year-old. Snowflakes and rainbows are awesome to them. They wonder if Allah mixed in extra chocolate when He made black people. That kind of thing. I get to revive my sense of wonder in the Creation of Allah with preschoolers. That, and they are pure love, not afraid to hug or say hi, they rarely hide their emotions and they aren't deceptive at all. Jr. high kids are just getting into being adults, thinking, and taking action, so you have to think in steps ahead of them in ways that you don't need to do with pre-school.
I love them all for different reasons.
4. I know why it was important to me to find a French-speaking Hombre. In this post you mentioned you would like to have a Spanish-speaking Hombre. Why?
Well, I need to start off saying that's not an ABSOLUTE UNCHANGING REQUIREMENT or anything. But yes, I think a Spanish-speaking Hombre would be nice. I'm a Hispanophile, raised speaking the language and tasting and incorporating the culture into my manner and way of thinking (to a degree). It'd be nice to find someone who understands that part of me- that I'd want my children to learn Spanish as well as English and Arabic as home languages, that I can and do pronounce the rolled r and accents flawlessly, that I fix some mean arroz con habichuelas but still can't make coquito. Spanish language and the attending cultures are my first acquired love, and my huband would be number 2 in there, so it'd be nice if they could mix. *sigh*. Ojala... Too, Spain is a jumping block between the Islamic and the Western, or it was. I felt the connection was natural.
5. One month all expenses paid vacation anywhere in the world. Where would you go and why?
I'd commandeer a passenger jet and end up in Brasil, after first making stops in Culebra, Puerto Rico (or another similar PRIVATE beach), Malaysia, and Central Asia. Brasil is a passion of mine especially after I didn't go in undergrad for reasons I will not speak of here. Brasil received the biggest portion of the African diaspora and has a good number of Muslims. I speak the language and love the music etc. Culebra is this gorgeous teeny tiny island in the PR archipelago with crystal clear blue water and powdery-sanded beaches that are deserted in many places. I'd like to visit a private island and go swimming in the ocean freely again. Malaysia and Central Asia because they spark my imagination and the people I've met from those places have been some of the happiest and most centered I've ever known. And of course, they're all-expenses-paid- when would I get to do that again in my lifetime?
Thank you for the interview!
Eid Mubarak, y'all!!
peace
TwennyTwo
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Shock.
assalamu alaikum,
Alhamdulillah, my brother may leave the hospital some time today.
This is wonderful news and I'll be making dua'a for it to actually happen.
But.
Other shocking news: My baby cousin (barely 4 months) is dead and his older sister (also a toddler) was operated on last night. Apparently both were beaten by their caregiver while their mother, my cousin, was at work.
I am in shock. I cannot understand this. I do not. Audhu billah. I'm a zombie because I don't get it. Why? Why? Hurt a child that cannot speak? Hurt a bright innocent baby who brings joy to everyone she knows? Why? Why? Ya rabb...
The man is in custody and had better stay there, as the kids grandfather, my uncle, is understandably beyond furious. And more than half of that particular county (not in Conservopolis) is related to our family.
Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un.
Please pray for us all.
Alhamdulillah, my brother may leave the hospital some time today.
This is wonderful news and I'll be making dua'a for it to actually happen.
But.
Other shocking news: My baby cousin (barely 4 months) is dead and his older sister (also a toddler) was operated on last night. Apparently both were beaten by their caregiver while their mother, my cousin, was at work.
I am in shock. I cannot understand this. I do not. Audhu billah. I'm a zombie because I don't get it. Why? Why? Hurt a child that cannot speak? Hurt a bright innocent baby who brings joy to everyone she knows? Why? Why? Ya rabb...
The man is in custody and had better stay there, as the kids grandfather, my uncle, is understandably beyond furious. And more than half of that particular county (not in Conservopolis) is related to our family.
Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un.
Please pray for us all.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Lost his ever-loving mind
assalamu alaikum
I've been gone for a while. I know. I've thought about this place like every day. We've really been going through it, so I'm asking for dua'a. Long story short, my brother JW (I've mentioned him here in passing) is in the hospital about an hour north of Conservopolis. He's been there for more than two weeks; he was sent directly from his campus by his counselors and a favorite professor. He's very ill.
It is terrifying and horrifying to see. My brother is losing it. He's been diagnosed with a mental illness. Audhu billah.
It tears at my heart every time we've gone to see him (of the four of us close to him, one of us has been up to see him every day). It's clear that something is wrong. Please make dua'a and pray for his recovery.
JW is a national-class musician, with an amazingly quick mind. I've always said he was the brightest of all of us, even if his grades did not reflect all of that. Yesterday, alhamdulIllah, was the best day of all those he's been there- it was like seeing him again. Because at the first visit... his eyes were wild, and bloodshot. He was stopping to pause and detect the messages that were being transmitted through the hospital television monitor. He kept telling us that people were coming to kill him.
He meant it.
My family was okay before this and inshaAllah we'll be okay afterward. If different. As hard as it will be to pay for treatment, at least we live where there's an option. And thank God someone at that school noticed that something was wrong. I don't know how he'd have made it another three weeks at university without help. By the time they put him in he was clearly... sick.
I know I'm different. I hear myself when I say the word 'crazy' to mean 'weird or out of whack'. I remembered several times how I said the word 'shizo' to mean crazy in front of my friend, S. and how she reproached me. I know what she felt, now. I think the worry is the worst. But I'm ashamed of a lot of my internal reactions to all of this. I cringe at my reaction when I don't want to take the two hour round trip to the hospital after having worked all day. Last Monday I just took a day off and cleaned my mother's house (a bit. It needs like another two days. I just can't take them. Sigh.) instead of going to school like my life is normal and okay.
And since my parents worry whenever I miss a day of work ( like the 2 days my doctora demanded when I had the flu and strep at the same time= yay preschool) I neglected to inform them that I did so. I'm getting to the point where when I actually make a decision instead of dithering I'm extremely disinclined to defend or argue about it. I'd been letting some things slide and I realized that if JW isn't doing so well, I have to step up my game. I don't get the option of being depressed myself. I'd been slowly dissolving myself, letting certain things go, and I know that midwinter is never my best time. I know it was happening, and I was trying to get a hold of myself- and then JW was hospitalized. I got some issues to get out so I'll be blogging by hook or crook soon. I just hope I don't get called out, because the resulting meltdown would not be pretty. I'm glad my sister is here. She's my lifeline right now, as I am hers.
Yeah.
Oh, DP, I saw your comment and will be answering later, inshaAllah. Sisters, brothers, other friends inside the computer, if you read me, please comment. I like my friends inside the internet to be as vocal as I am in real life. And being alone is not what's up right now. Get at me...
peace
TwennyTwo
I've been gone for a while. I know. I've thought about this place like every day. We've really been going through it, so I'm asking for dua'a. Long story short, my brother JW (I've mentioned him here in passing) is in the hospital about an hour north of Conservopolis. He's been there for more than two weeks; he was sent directly from his campus by his counselors and a favorite professor. He's very ill.
It is terrifying and horrifying to see. My brother is losing it. He's been diagnosed with a mental illness. Audhu billah.
It tears at my heart every time we've gone to see him (of the four of us close to him, one of us has been up to see him every day). It's clear that something is wrong. Please make dua'a and pray for his recovery.
JW is a national-class musician, with an amazingly quick mind. I've always said he was the brightest of all of us, even if his grades did not reflect all of that. Yesterday, alhamdulIllah, was the best day of all those he's been there- it was like seeing him again. Because at the first visit... his eyes were wild, and bloodshot. He was stopping to pause and detect the messages that were being transmitted through the hospital television monitor. He kept telling us that people were coming to kill him.
He meant it.
My family was okay before this and inshaAllah we'll be okay afterward. If different. As hard as it will be to pay for treatment, at least we live where there's an option. And thank God someone at that school noticed that something was wrong. I don't know how he'd have made it another three weeks at university without help. By the time they put him in he was clearly... sick.
I know I'm different. I hear myself when I say the word 'crazy' to mean 'weird or out of whack'. I remembered several times how I said the word 'shizo' to mean crazy in front of my friend, S. and how she reproached me. I know what she felt, now. I think the worry is the worst. But I'm ashamed of a lot of my internal reactions to all of this. I cringe at my reaction when I don't want to take the two hour round trip to the hospital after having worked all day. Last Monday I just took a day off and cleaned my mother's house (a bit. It needs like another two days. I just can't take them. Sigh.) instead of going to school like my life is normal and okay.
And since my parents worry whenever I miss a day of work ( like the 2 days my doctora demanded when I had the flu and strep at the same time= yay preschool) I neglected to inform them that I did so. I'm getting to the point where when I actually make a decision instead of dithering I'm extremely disinclined to defend or argue about it. I'd been letting some things slide and I realized that if JW isn't doing so well, I have to step up my game. I don't get the option of being depressed myself. I'd been slowly dissolving myself, letting certain things go, and I know that midwinter is never my best time. I know it was happening, and I was trying to get a hold of myself- and then JW was hospitalized. I got some issues to get out so I'll be blogging by hook or crook soon. I just hope I don't get called out, because the resulting meltdown would not be pretty. I'm glad my sister is here. She's my lifeline right now, as I am hers.
Yeah.
Oh, DP, I saw your comment and will be answering later, inshaAllah. Sisters, brothers, other friends inside the computer, if you read me, please comment. I like my friends inside the internet to be as vocal as I am in real life. And being alone is not what's up right now. Get at me...
peace
TwennyTwo
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Hues
assalamu alaikum wa rahmatullah wa barakatuh
The upside of not having been all about the blog this month is that I've been living. Downside? I miss all the goings-on, all the fun stuff. It's Thanksgiving Day here, and while giving thanks liberally I also had the time to peruse various blogs. Yay!
I stopped over at DP's spot, which led me to Safiya at Outlines, which led me to Umar Lee, and all of them talked in some way about spouses and husbands and interracial relationships etc. So now, my turn to think a lil bit about all of this. And I've been avoiding the topic for such a time as would lend itself to my being open and vulnerable about it.
Y'all know I'm not married. Most of the people who've read this blog came to notice it because of a post that was basically whining about options for young unmarried Muslimas. Or making valid points on the options for unmarried muslimahs, depending on your paradigm. I'm not actively searching; rather making a lot of dua'a after fruitless searches. My eyes are out there but not much else.
In reading the responses to Umar Lee's posts on the topic I've seen a lot of hateration going around, especially when it comes to American Black Women being marriageable. I've seen it so much that I've had to catch myself; at one point I had absorbed the viewpoint that my being Black made me less desireable to Muslims of other races and cultures. I actively have had to reject that inside my own head. Now, you all know that I am intensely glad that Allah saw fit to make me Black, and thankful that I am an educated professional in this country. wa Astaghfirullah. It was abhor-ably easy for me to detect that 'don't bring one of Them home' attitude through the computer screen as well as through my everyday encounters, the chance remarks, the sideways looks and the non-looks. Audhu biIllah. Shaitan is really sneaky on this one.
As for the looking- I've just stopped looking and started making dua'a instead. It's funny that when I mention that I want to get married to some of the sisters who ask about my marital status in this city (I'm new to a lot of people here), they inevitably ask what kind of brother I'm looking for. To which I reply: A good, educated man. Aisha looked at me askance when I gave her my off-the-cuff answer that I didn't care as long as he was educated and spoke Spanish. "Spanish? " she cocked her head at me, really puzzled. "When I stub my toe or yell that's the language I tend to work in," I answered half seriously.
The truth is that I... almost... I want to say 'I don't care', in that peculiarly American way that I have of using that phrase, but that's not specific enough. I don't care- about the small stuff. Or rather, I don't have a picture all prettily painted in my mind, waiting for Allah to *poof* make Optimal Husband appear and ride me into the sunset. I guess somewhere in here I've grown up, because even the idea doesn't appeal any more. Reality sneaks into my dreams daily.
No picture in my mind, hence, I can no longer reel off a gigundo list of qualities, attributes, characteristics, and assets that my future husband MUST have in order to even have a chance at my hand. Used to be ol' boy would be oh, 6'5 1/2" tall (exactly), have a Ph.D or an M.D. in his field of choice, and have impeccable manners, and love his mama to distraction. Now, though, my criteria have been way simplified after I've lived a while and done some praying and contemplating and had some of those loonnnng discussions with people I trust over cups of na'na' late at night. He has to be able to answer these questions:
1) What is your understanding of God, the Qur'an, Salat, the prophets, and the hereafter?
2) How do you feel about children?
3) Describe your relationship with your family, especially your brothers, sisters, and mother.
4) What are your goals?
5) What do you see as your and my responsibilities as Muslims, spouses, and citizens?
6) How do you handle your financial responsibilities?
And before everyone and their wali jumps all over my case, should a brother actually be serious about his suit, I'm prepared to answer those questions as well as other similar ones.
What infuriates and disturbs me is that this whole practice and permissiveness of turning down potential mates based on their skin hue and nationality and other cultural stereotypes is on a real jahiliyah tip, one that Allah and his Prophet alayi salatu wa salaam warned us about... some people need to go read surat al Asr, for real! One of our halaqa leaders always (always) ends dua'a with that- and the reasons are evident. I guess because I've done my share of crushing on various people (and that's all I need to say about that, ain't it?) I know that men of all hues can be mentally and physically attractive. How dare ANYONE lump all of that spark potential into the thin little layers of epidermis and throw away what Allah has given us? It's just taking the easy way out to separate and categorize and stigmatize on skin and culture. It's a lot harder to say, hey, this brother has good adab, appears to all who know him to be trying to get some taqwa, let's look at him a little more, oh, and he's of a brighter/darker hue. No, that's getting too deep into this selection thing. Audhu billah.
Also, it annoys me that the colorstruck members of the American Black ummah, especially brothers, are the ones who are being pointed out in all of this. What is that supposed to mean? Is it supposed to bother me that men of my own hue will search outside of their native country for women with features unlike mine? Or perhaps I'm meant to feel (even more) inferior based on the choices of those who assign no value to me? I love Black men. I was raised by and with Black men. I am thus beloved of Black men. And that's all that means. It takes little away from me to have a Black man love a non-Black woman unless I make it so. I get to choose whether or not to drink the cup of haterade. If Allah has willed an African wife for an African American man, then great for him, and if He hasn't, then great, too. Our trials are assigned, designed, and tailored just for the individual. Don't let me stand in your way.
And too, it annoys me that people automatically assume that I will only accept a Black man for a husband. Sisters come back with, "Well, I don't know of any African American brothers who are single...", I guess immediately discounting other brothers. Why would that be? Anyone who knows even a little about me realizes that I'm very open-minded in my preferences. I am positively Black for myself, that's something that radiates in the air around me, but I can't say that it means everything around me must be Black! Come on, now. It comes back to being put into boxes again on a scale so grand it boggles the mind. If Allah has decided that the best mate for me is not of my hue, then I'd be an outlandishly crazy fool to turn Him down and hunt for what my dunyawi mind and nafs tells me I ought to want. Beyond that, I've been GIVEN criteria to search for what I SHOULD want, so why not let Him lead me to what will make everyone involved happy? Plus be pleasing to Allah? I don't understand how people don't get this.
Or, to put it into a simpler metaphor: I wanted a car. I Asked (made istikara) for a car (and a computer and a husband but let's stick to the car...). And then when people asked, I said I wanted a foreign, youngish, manual trans, dark colored car with just enough leg room. And as I was about to buy that style of car (using riba'a no less, may Allah forgive me) with about 110K miles on it, the deal fell through. And I was led instead to a light colored, domestic, 20 year old, huge car that I paid for cash.
It is impossible for me to be any happier with what I have. I am exstatic. I have a car! It's distinctive and it runs well and I avoided something I KNOW causes the displeasure of the One who loves me most. Good thing I wasn't blinded by all the hues of trouble I could've gotten into.
peace
TwennyTwo
The upside of not having been all about the blog this month is that I've been living. Downside? I miss all the goings-on, all the fun stuff. It's Thanksgiving Day here, and while giving thanks liberally I also had the time to peruse various blogs. Yay!
I stopped over at DP's spot, which led me to Safiya at Outlines, which led me to Umar Lee, and all of them talked in some way about spouses and husbands and interracial relationships etc. So now, my turn to think a lil bit about all of this. And I've been avoiding the topic for such a time as would lend itself to my being open and vulnerable about it.
Y'all know I'm not married. Most of the people who've read this blog came to notice it because of a post that was basically whining about options for young unmarried Muslimas. Or making valid points on the options for unmarried muslimahs, depending on your paradigm. I'm not actively searching; rather making a lot of dua'a after fruitless searches. My eyes are out there but not much else.
In reading the responses to Umar Lee's posts on the topic I've seen a lot of hateration going around, especially when it comes to American Black Women being marriageable. I've seen it so much that I've had to catch myself; at one point I had absorbed the viewpoint that my being Black made me less desireable to Muslims of other races and cultures. I actively have had to reject that inside my own head. Now, you all know that I am intensely glad that Allah saw fit to make me Black, and thankful that I am an educated professional in this country. wa Astaghfirullah. It was abhor-ably easy for me to detect that 'don't bring one of Them home' attitude through the computer screen as well as through my everyday encounters, the chance remarks, the sideways looks and the non-looks. Audhu biIllah. Shaitan is really sneaky on this one.
As for the looking- I've just stopped looking and started making dua'a instead. It's funny that when I mention that I want to get married to some of the sisters who ask about my marital status in this city (I'm new to a lot of people here), they inevitably ask what kind of brother I'm looking for. To which I reply: A good, educated man. Aisha looked at me askance when I gave her my off-the-cuff answer that I didn't care as long as he was educated and spoke Spanish. "Spanish? " she cocked her head at me, really puzzled. "When I stub my toe or yell that's the language I tend to work in," I answered half seriously.
The truth is that I... almost... I want to say 'I don't care', in that peculiarly American way that I have of using that phrase, but that's not specific enough. I don't care- about the small stuff. Or rather, I don't have a picture all prettily painted in my mind, waiting for Allah to *poof* make Optimal Husband appear and ride me into the sunset. I guess somewhere in here I've grown up, because even the idea doesn't appeal any more. Reality sneaks into my dreams daily.
No picture in my mind, hence, I can no longer reel off a gigundo list of qualities, attributes, characteristics, and assets that my future husband MUST have in order to even have a chance at my hand. Used to be ol' boy would be oh, 6'5 1/2" tall (exactly), have a Ph.D or an M.D. in his field of choice, and have impeccable manners, and love his mama to distraction. Now, though, my criteria have been way simplified after I've lived a while and done some praying and contemplating and had some of those loonnnng discussions with people I trust over cups of na'na' late at night. He has to be able to answer these questions:
1) What is your understanding of God, the Qur'an, Salat, the prophets, and the hereafter?
2) How do you feel about children?
3) Describe your relationship with your family, especially your brothers, sisters, and mother.
4) What are your goals?
5) What do you see as your and my responsibilities as Muslims, spouses, and citizens?
6) How do you handle your financial responsibilities?
And before everyone and their wali jumps all over my case, should a brother actually be serious about his suit, I'm prepared to answer those questions as well as other similar ones.
What infuriates and disturbs me is that this whole practice and permissiveness of turning down potential mates based on their skin hue and nationality and other cultural stereotypes is on a real jahiliyah tip, one that Allah and his Prophet alayi salatu wa salaam warned us about... some people need to go read surat al Asr, for real! One of our halaqa leaders always (always) ends dua'a with that- and the reasons are evident. I guess because I've done my share of crushing on various people (and that's all I need to say about that, ain't it?) I know that men of all hues can be mentally and physically attractive. How dare ANYONE lump all of that spark potential into the thin little layers of epidermis and throw away what Allah has given us? It's just taking the easy way out to separate and categorize and stigmatize on skin and culture. It's a lot harder to say, hey, this brother has good adab, appears to all who know him to be trying to get some taqwa, let's look at him a little more, oh, and he's of a brighter/darker hue. No, that's getting too deep into this selection thing. Audhu billah.
Also, it annoys me that the colorstruck members of the American Black ummah, especially brothers, are the ones who are being pointed out in all of this. What is that supposed to mean? Is it supposed to bother me that men of my own hue will search outside of their native country for women with features unlike mine? Or perhaps I'm meant to feel (even more) inferior based on the choices of those who assign no value to me? I love Black men. I was raised by and with Black men. I am thus beloved of Black men. And that's all that means. It takes little away from me to have a Black man love a non-Black woman unless I make it so. I get to choose whether or not to drink the cup of haterade. If Allah has willed an African wife for an African American man, then great for him, and if He hasn't, then great, too. Our trials are assigned, designed, and tailored just for the individual. Don't let me stand in your way.
And too, it annoys me that people automatically assume that I will only accept a Black man for a husband. Sisters come back with, "Well, I don't know of any African American brothers who are single...", I guess immediately discounting other brothers. Why would that be? Anyone who knows even a little about me realizes that I'm very open-minded in my preferences. I am positively Black for myself, that's something that radiates in the air around me, but I can't say that it means everything around me must be Black! Come on, now. It comes back to being put into boxes again on a scale so grand it boggles the mind. If Allah has decided that the best mate for me is not of my hue, then I'd be an outlandishly crazy fool to turn Him down and hunt for what my dunyawi mind and nafs tells me I ought to want. Beyond that, I've been GIVEN criteria to search for what I SHOULD want, so why not let Him lead me to what will make everyone involved happy? Plus be pleasing to Allah? I don't understand how people don't get this.
Or, to put it into a simpler metaphor: I wanted a car. I Asked (made istikara) for a car (and a computer and a husband but let's stick to the car...). And then when people asked, I said I wanted a foreign, youngish, manual trans, dark colored car with just enough leg room. And as I was about to buy that style of car (using riba'a no less, may Allah forgive me) with about 110K miles on it, the deal fell through. And I was led instead to a light colored, domestic, 20 year old, huge car that I paid for cash.
It is impossible for me to be any happier with what I have. I am exstatic. I have a car! It's distinctive and it runs well and I avoided something I KNOW causes the displeasure of the One who loves me most. Good thing I wasn't blinded by all the hues of trouble I could've gotten into.
peace
TwennyTwo
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
The Agitator: On Leaving the Deen, Part II
peace,
This is the second part of a conversation begun here.
I was watching the agitator this morning; I'd added the soap, the clothes, let the steamy water run in... and then I let the agitator hypnotize me. I have a lot to ponder, these days.
Yesterday I attended a very small part of a training meant to certify me to be a counselor at a muslim youth camp. And I loved what I saw of the training; but the jury is still out and a decision not made about whether or not I'll actually go. Part of that is just the fact of the timing; the camp would cover a very important week in the life of my family and friends. But some of that is because I'm a convert, and still learning some of the things my kids may already know.
So in the first part of these discussions we discussed that the first part of any action should be listening, really actually listening and knowing where this sister or brother is coming from, born or convert.
I think the next step will be then tailoring what we have to say to that person's mindset. The Prophet, alayhi salatu wa salaam, used to do this. And to do that, we have to check ourselves at the door.
Listen, you asked for suggestions, you never said they had to be easy!! This is something that we've all failed at once or twice.
A great many of those who come to Islam leave because after they met Islam, they fell into company with The Muslims. Y'all know what I'm talking about. Part of trying to actually have some taqwa should be denying ourselves and the nafs anyway, but especially when dealing with those newly arrived to submission. It's a form of submission itself. I mean, we all take precautions when dealing with newborn babies; leaving our boisterousness and dirty hands for where they belong. We need to do this with newly-born Muslims as well. They're just as damageable, impressionable, just as tender on the inside. If we take our own preconceptions of what taking Shahada means, and what has to be done first, our attitudes toward how and where and why one should live, well, we'll certainly overwhelm another person. I'm halfway overcome myself just thinking of all of that myself. I'm not saying don't be the genuine you; more that we need to be as careful around new muslims as we are around FBI agents- more because inshaAllah new Muslims will automatically be on 'our side'. If that makes sense.
Then we have to address both the academic and the social thirst that a new Muslim has. I've actually been invited to take part in an initiative here in my new community that addresses this, by making up new Muslim packets to be presented to people when they suddenly (for us anyway) walk into the masjid and take shahada. I think that'd've been big for me, and so that's one way to go with others. Nothing major; just a friendly letter from a fellow muslima to say, hey, welcome! We join you in Islam. Here's a list of resources and things you might want to know. Please come to these people if you have questions. And our weekly event blahblah happens every such and so day at this time and we want to invite you! Here are the basics of islam (of course someone actually goes over this with the person, too). Congratulations, mabrook!
And then would start the listening.
I know this is mad idealistic, but at the same time, it's an actual start... that's just what came out of the wash. Anything else you have in mind, shoot. It's been an excellent conversation so far.
peace
Twenny
This is the second part of a conversation begun here.
I was watching the agitator this morning; I'd added the soap, the clothes, let the steamy water run in... and then I let the agitator hypnotize me. I have a lot to ponder, these days.
Yesterday I attended a very small part of a training meant to certify me to be a counselor at a muslim youth camp. And I loved what I saw of the training; but the jury is still out and a decision not made about whether or not I'll actually go. Part of that is just the fact of the timing; the camp would cover a very important week in the life of my family and friends. But some of that is because I'm a convert, and still learning some of the things my kids may already know.
So in the first part of these discussions we discussed that the first part of any action should be listening, really actually listening and knowing where this sister or brother is coming from, born or convert.
I think the next step will be then tailoring what we have to say to that person's mindset. The Prophet, alayhi salatu wa salaam, used to do this. And to do that, we have to check ourselves at the door.
Listen, you asked for suggestions, you never said they had to be easy!! This is something that we've all failed at once or twice.
A great many of those who come to Islam leave because after they met Islam, they fell into company with The Muslims. Y'all know what I'm talking about. Part of trying to actually have some taqwa should be denying ourselves and the nafs anyway, but especially when dealing with those newly arrived to submission. It's a form of submission itself. I mean, we all take precautions when dealing with newborn babies; leaving our boisterousness and dirty hands for where they belong. We need to do this with newly-born Muslims as well. They're just as damageable, impressionable, just as tender on the inside. If we take our own preconceptions of what taking Shahada means, and what has to be done first, our attitudes toward how and where and why one should live, well, we'll certainly overwhelm another person. I'm halfway overcome myself just thinking of all of that myself. I'm not saying don't be the genuine you; more that we need to be as careful around new muslims as we are around FBI agents- more because inshaAllah new Muslims will automatically be on 'our side'. If that makes sense.
Then we have to address both the academic and the social thirst that a new Muslim has. I've actually been invited to take part in an initiative here in my new community that addresses this, by making up new Muslim packets to be presented to people when they suddenly (for us anyway) walk into the masjid and take shahada. I think that'd've been big for me, and so that's one way to go with others. Nothing major; just a friendly letter from a fellow muslima to say, hey, welcome! We join you in Islam. Here's a list of resources and things you might want to know. Please come to these people if you have questions. And our weekly event blahblah happens every such and so day at this time and we want to invite you! Here are the basics of islam (of course someone actually goes over this with the person, too). Congratulations, mabrook!
And then would start the listening.
I know this is mad idealistic, but at the same time, it's an actual start... that's just what came out of the wash. Anything else you have in mind, shoot. It's been an excellent conversation so far.
peace
Twenny
Saturday, November 10, 2007
NaBloPoMo, HA!
Assalamu alaikum wa raHmatullah wa barakatuh
Yeah, so I thought I was going to do NaBloPoMo. Looks like I blew my blopos instead. I'm here though. Going shortly to take a glucose challenge test. Those of you who know what that's about... yeah. Apparently doc thinks I've got some insulin resistance going on. Since my father is diabetic, that's something I'm taking pretty seriously... before I saw her, I went and got my gym membership and started working out again.
Yes, the ol' gym membership. I signed up at a nationally known gym that decided to change its name to Urban Active. I was ticked. Urban Active?! I ask you! That sounds like I'm coming to run around my ghetto block or something. But the amenities are the same, and I think the general manager (that's who I got to speak to, yay me) took off like $200 in initial fees simply because I was up front about the fact that I think the name change stinks. Huh.
They do have an all-women's, screened-off weight and cardio station, which is why I'm paying the big bucks. That, and it's easier to get there than to get home after work, always a plus. Especially when gasoline for my '87 bigole huge car is at $3.25 a gallon for REGULAR. What a fine time I picked to begin driving. I was thinking when I took up my tutoring positions that they'd be money I could use for, I dunno, retirement savings or house savings or school, but no, it's gas money. I've started hypermiling just because of the hit to my pocket- it actually works well around here. City of the Seven Hills and all.
Anyway, I got the gym membership in part because I'm training to run the Flying Pig on May 4th inshaAllah. Mark that date down! I don't know if I'll do the half or the full marathon but I'm determined to cross the finish line. Training and cross-training is 6 days per week.
After my glucose challenge inshaAllah I'm headed to training to be a counselor for a Muslim youth group. Can you believe that the training is from 9A to 8P on a Saturday? I didn't find out about it until 11 this morning, but I really really love kids and would like to work with them, so inshaAllah I haven't missed anything I can't read up on or make up. We'll see. And one of my halaqas is holding a movie night, which I'm looking forward to, so wow, finally a busy Saturday! Hope yours is going well, too.
peace
TwennyTwo
Yeah, so I thought I was going to do NaBloPoMo. Looks like I blew my blopos instead. I'm here though. Going shortly to take a glucose challenge test. Those of you who know what that's about... yeah. Apparently doc thinks I've got some insulin resistance going on. Since my father is diabetic, that's something I'm taking pretty seriously... before I saw her, I went and got my gym membership and started working out again.
Yes, the ol' gym membership. I signed up at a nationally known gym that decided to change its name to Urban Active. I was ticked. Urban Active?! I ask you! That sounds like I'm coming to run around my ghetto block or something. But the amenities are the same, and I think the general manager (that's who I got to speak to, yay me) took off like $200 in initial fees simply because I was up front about the fact that I think the name change stinks. Huh.
They do have an all-women's, screened-off weight and cardio station, which is why I'm paying the big bucks. That, and it's easier to get there than to get home after work, always a plus. Especially when gasoline for my '87 bigole huge car is at $3.25 a gallon for REGULAR. What a fine time I picked to begin driving. I was thinking when I took up my tutoring positions that they'd be money I could use for, I dunno, retirement savings or house savings or school, but no, it's gas money. I've started hypermiling just because of the hit to my pocket- it actually works well around here. City of the Seven Hills and all.
Anyway, I got the gym membership in part because I'm training to run the Flying Pig on May 4th inshaAllah. Mark that date down! I don't know if I'll do the half or the full marathon but I'm determined to cross the finish line. Training and cross-training is 6 days per week.
After my glucose challenge inshaAllah I'm headed to training to be a counselor for a Muslim youth group. Can you believe that the training is from 9A to 8P on a Saturday? I didn't find out about it until 11 this morning, but I really really love kids and would like to work with them, so inshaAllah I haven't missed anything I can't read up on or make up. We'll see. And one of my halaqas is holding a movie night, which I'm looking forward to, so wow, finally a busy Saturday! Hope yours is going well, too.
peace
TwennyTwo
Saturday, November 03, 2007
The voice of Samina S.
Assalamu Alaikum,
I walked into the kitchen last night and told my mother, "I just realized again that I'm the only black woman teacher at the school." She laughed and asked was this new? That's a joke between us because my mother teaches at a well-known university and has for over 20 years. She's been the only black woman teacher in her department the entire time she's been there. She probably understands the ins and outs of that feeling more than anyone else.
I'm not. NOT NOOOOTTTT going into racial politics here. Just pointing out a nuance of the environment where I work. It's interesting working in an Islamic school, especially in an area where there just aren't as many Muslims. I was spoiled in DC; there are Muslims of every stripe, color, belief... here people ask which masjid you go to and from that know everyone you've met at that center. It's a different world.
Class has more to do with my feeling off-kilter than race, I think, but both are involved. The majority of my students have affluent families. During Ramadhan I was invited to some of the most amazing places for iftar; what was comforting was the fact that despite the cushy surroundings I managed to fall into comfortable, grounded, real company, the few sisters whose invitations and interactions have put me at ease.
Samina S. is one of those. She doesn't have a blog, but late on the night of October 31st she wrote something that hit home and told more about the atmosphere at the masjid and the center than I could describe in my little post. She said I could feel free to post if I wished (thanks, Samina!) so I'm doing so... let me know what you think.
peace
I'll probably be commenting further tomorrow. Sis. Umm Zaid reminded me that it's NaPoBloMo so I'll do my best to post every day (!). InshaALlah.
peace
Twenny Two
I walked into the kitchen last night and told my mother, "I just realized again that I'm the only black woman teacher at the school." She laughed and asked was this new? That's a joke between us because my mother teaches at a well-known university and has for over 20 years. She's been the only black woman teacher in her department the entire time she's been there. She probably understands the ins and outs of that feeling more than anyone else.
I'm not. NOT NOOOOTTTT going into racial politics here. Just pointing out a nuance of the environment where I work. It's interesting working in an Islamic school, especially in an area where there just aren't as many Muslims. I was spoiled in DC; there are Muslims of every stripe, color, belief... here people ask which masjid you go to and from that know everyone you've met at that center. It's a different world.
Class has more to do with my feeling off-kilter than race, I think, but both are involved. The majority of my students have affluent families. During Ramadhan I was invited to some of the most amazing places for iftar; what was comforting was the fact that despite the cushy surroundings I managed to fall into comfortable, grounded, real company, the few sisters whose invitations and interactions have put me at ease.
Samina S. is one of those. She doesn't have a blog, but late on the night of October 31st she wrote something that hit home and told more about the atmosphere at the masjid and the center than I could describe in my little post. She said I could feel free to post if I wished (thanks, Samina!) so I'm doing so... let me know what you think.
peace
Many first generation kids can relate to my story: I was born in pre-Disney Orlando, Florida a year after my professional parents immigrated to the United States from Pakistan. They worked their way up the career ladder, sacrificing much to send us to the best private schools, carpooling to Sunday schools so we could learn Islam, trying to learn enough of the American culture to understand us, yet fervently praying inside that we would not assimilate too much. This mish mash of experiences provided a breeding ground for a variety of incidents that ultimately shaped my generation’s identity. Yep, we were the brown kids in kindergarten who had the only smelly tuna sandwich as an alternative to the lunchroom hot dogs. We were the second graders with the braids who wore the long dresses and pants in Florida’s 95 plus degree summers. When Thanksgiving came around, our moms would bake a chicken (because they did not know where to find the halal turkeys) with all the side items so we wouldn’t miss out. We didn’t get the Christmas presents even though we sang “Rudolph the red nosed reindeer” and “Jingle Bells” at the top of our lungs from October to March, and our Eid holiday was in the summer! Middle school was another world altogether. The excuses we made for not attending homecoming dances and football games were pretty ridiculous. I wonder if anyone really believed we had to be out of town coincidentally every weekend such events occurred. When high school came, all bets were off. We had the dads whose one look would scare us away from lip gloss altogether, forget the “real” makeup. Dating, ha-ha, God forbid if a guy from class called about a homework assignment and the conversation lasted beyond five minutes… And I had the cool parents, not all my friends were so lucky.
So did I have an unhappy childhood? No way! Despite the inferiority complex my generation has collectively inherited, most of us survived intact and recall happy youths. When I look back I know there are a few key things that allowed this to happen. First and foremost, Allah blessed me with parents who loved me unconditionally and did the best they knew. I cannot even imagine the culture shock they experienced coming to this country leaving behind their families, culture, religions, and ultimately their whole identity and trying to adapt to this “whole new world.” (That would be a completely different essay someone else would have to write, but remember that the next time you meet that new doctor from Pakistan who’s driving the Mercedes SUV and his ‘hoity toity’ wife is carrying the aqua Gucci bag with the matching sandals on the perfectly manicured feet). Anyways, getting back to the point, my parents also socialized with people of similar backgrounds and luckily for me they had kids my age that often attended my schools. So we went to the desi parties, the one place we actually fit in, and ran around, giggled, sang, ate the same food as everyone else, begged our parents for sleepovers, and basically had fun. Looking back, I realize those get-togethers and the lifetime friendships they formed were essential to maintaining our (and I suspect our parents’) sanity. So when we went back to school on Monday morning and had as I would later call it, a “low self esteem” moment, we had our friends and weekends to fall back on.
Sunday school was our other saving grace. We were blessed with a teacher who was an African American convert. She taught us Islam the way it should be taught- in a clear, straightforward way with “normal” English and lots of patience. Her lessons began in her own modest home over vanilla wafers and fruit punch. Only later did our community have a masjid (a large result of her commitment) with a full time Sunday school. She taught us the basic pillars of Islam, what they really meant, how to pray, how to fast, stories of the prophets, and what it meant to be a Muslim. I honestly believe her commitment to us learning our religion was one of the greatest blessings in my life because she instilled pride in the religion. I do not know how Islam is taught to kids in Muslim countries, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Even though I do not follow my Islam perfectly, the foundation of knowledge is there, Alhamdulillah. I also regret that our community as a whole did not give her the respect and worth she deserved (and I think this is a common flaw in the Muslim communities), but Allah will reward her inshaAllah.
High school and college were probably the toughest times for my friends and I. We had the usual identity crises, magnified by where we came from, rebellions, etc, etc. The details are better left alone, but as a whole we came out on the other end all right. Most of us followed “the mold” of college, marriage, careers, and kids. And here I am in my thirties, married, having the career, and trying to figure out how to do it right with my kids….inshaAllah.
It’s funny people are frequently interested in my perspective. Is it because I am an ABCD, because I married one, or because I have the outward appearance of worldly success? Here’s a secret or two, I don’t have any more answers than the next person, my whole generation has an inferiority complex that we try to mask with professional careers and guess what, we find that hoity toity Pakistani lady I mentioned above quite intimidating.
Anyways, here’s a few things regarding raising my kids that are important to me. After having been that only brown kid in the class trying to hide the fact that no Santa came to my house, I want things to be different for my sons. Yes I had a happy childhood, but my Muslim friends made a huge difference. Feeling like you belong to a community is very important to childhood development. Of all the valid reasons to send kids to an Islamic School, this is my number one. My 4 year old “fits in.” It may sound funny, but being able to eat what everyone else is eating is pretty cool. He is singing, “Ramadan, Ramadan” and “We are Muslims” instead of the Christmas carols I learned. He is learning stories of the prophets instead of stories of old St. Nick. Islam is our identity and being in this environment allows him to be proud to be a Muslim. I hope this builds his confidence inshaAllah, so his generation does not have to hide its identity.
Now here’s a whole other potential essay: the pros and cons of an Islamic school. Can’t do that justice here, but a few things I have to address. Some of my friends think our school is not Islamic enough. Maybe so, but the intention is there, and there’s only one way to go. Trust me it’s still better than the alternative. If you still don’t agree please do me a favor and don’t bad mouth the school in public, it discourages others and that hurts us. And one more thing, politics are everywhere. I went to the best private high school in Orlando and the politics were disgusting. Same thing for the teachers, even the best schools have a few bad teachers, and believe it or not sometimes you learn more from them. Other peers think sending your kids to an Islamic school shelters them and makes them ill prepared for the “real world.” I believe there is no better preparation for facing the “real world” than having confidence and knowing who you are. And trust me, even though my kid goes to an Islamic school, he knows about Diego and Pizza Hut and of course, Disney world. I don’t worry about him being out of touch with the ‘pop culture’. As far as academics goes, certain basic standards are necessary, but remember each kid has strengths and weaknesses. I have a friend who graduated from my high school class, went to Dartmouth and is now a drummer in a rock band (not to knock his career choice). Once again, If you still don’t agree please do me a favor and don’t bad mouth the school in public, it discourages others and that hurts us. Strength comes in numbers and if we want improvements we need our numbers.
So getting back to the point, and I’m beginning to forget why I am writing this myself, someone from our Masjid administration recently asked my husband to meet with us to discuss our outlook as an “open minded” representation of what our generation was thinking. That along with an interesting book I am currently reading (Eboo Patel’s Acts of Faith) inspired me to write this.
The masjid in our community is probably one of the most beautiful masjids in the country. Tours are given here to the public and MashaAllah, people walk away truly impressed. I remember the feeling I had when I first saw this masjid, I could not believe something so elaborate existed in this country. May Allah bless the generosity of the people who built the masjid. This institution is well respected in the city and the inter-faith efforts on behalf of the administration are truly remarkable.
Now what would people of my generation want out of a masjid? To put it simply in one word, Inspiration. After all the ultimate goal of every Muslim is to serve Allah and improve our faith. How do we do this in a culture where we are so busy with the fast life of work and kids? If only we could come to the masjid and each time we walked away be inspired to become better Muslims, inshaAllah. Or imagine when the public tours are given, the spirit of inspiration is so strong that the desire to learn what Islam really is about is piqued. Recalling the success of my long ago Sunday school teacher, I think a few simple elements are essential. To begin with knowledgeable teachers with command of the English language is essential. With all due respect to our elders, my generation has a tendency to “tune out” if the lecturer has an accent or does not speak clearly. And I can only imagine what our kids (or visitors) will do. I don’t ever want them to be bored by the masjid, especially one as beautiful as ours. Also knowledge is a cornerstone of our religion. So ideally an imam with such qualities would be great. In the meanwhile, if we have members of the community blessed with knowledge and a commitment to teach, I would hope politics would be pushed aside and such teachers would be given the opportunity to teach us how to practice our religion and improve our iman. These are the jewels of our community who should be given the utmost respect and encouragement. We should also invite as many scholars as we can on a regular basis. Yes in post 911 we have to be careful of who we give the platform to, but let’s not make it reach a level of paranoia. Any teacher of Islam with true knowledge will relay the message of peace that is the cornerstone of our religion.
In a nutshell, we would like to see the inner beauty of our masjid match, if not exceed, the exterior beauty of the facility. To do this, the ugly head of politics, egos, and arrogance needs to be removed. Instead we need an open platform where people can express their concerns with a certain level of administrative accountability and transparency inshaAllah. There really is no choice here because the alternative of not doing so includes dividing the community, having ego wars, boring (and losing) our youth, wasting the beautiful facility, and looking bad to the non-Muslims. This would truly be a loss; one that our generation is not wiling to pay.
Well, here’s the viewpoint of one ABCD trying to figure it out. By the way, I wonder what they’ll call the next generation of ours: any ideas? One last thing, no offence if you drive a Mercedes, own a Gucci bag, or match your shoes to your purse.
~Samina S.
I'll probably be commenting further tomorrow. Sis. Umm Zaid reminded me that it's NaPoBloMo so I'll do my best to post every day (!). InshaALlah.
peace
Twenny Two
Friday, November 02, 2007
Still light
assalamu alaikum,
I think that's the biggest change yet. I've gotten so used to saying Assalamu Alaikum that I forget the greeting is for Muslims and wanna go say it to everyone. AlhamdulIllah.
I've been popping in over at Shabana's and Dictator Princess's and UmIbrahim's and Umm Zaid's and Izzy Mo's spots but wanted to let y'all know that not only am I still alive but kickin' and being blessed by Allah subhana wa ta'ala. The months of adjustment have passed. I wanted to blog. I let exhaustion and a promise I made to myself not to complain get in my way.
Case in point: The other day I was up in arms b/c the director of the school told me I can't go to Juma'a at the masjid (RIGHT. ACROSS. THE LOT. not complain'in but dag how close can I be and not go?) because of my responsibility to the kids... even if I got a substitute. I pointed out that no, it's not obligatory on women but at the same time... girls have to miss certain weeks anyway; and as preschool teacher I don't get opportunities to prayin jama'at much anyway (the rest of the school prays dhuhr together daily), and I really benefited from the khutba the day I did go. Then resisted the urge to come up in the twennytwo spot and complain.
SO alhamdulillah today the director copied the khutbah and put it in my box. Every little blessing I can get. Glad I didn't complain.
By the way TAKBIR I have a car! It's huge and white and qualifies for historical plates and alhamdulillah it starts. It drinks gas, but I'm working a 2nd job for that (y'all didn't really think I'd stop working multiple jobs, did you?). I'm hanging out with my sister on a regular, I'm getting to work on time. I won't put the complaints out yet. Y'all will hear them but now it's all about the praise...
Welcome to those in my new community I've invited here. This is me, the real unadulterated deep down thing; inshaAllah we'll talk. To my old friends in the computer, I miss you and iA will be popping in soon.
peace
TwennyTwo
I think that's the biggest change yet. I've gotten so used to saying Assalamu Alaikum that I forget the greeting is for Muslims and wanna go say it to everyone. AlhamdulIllah.
I've been popping in over at Shabana's and Dictator Princess's and UmIbrahim's and Umm Zaid's and Izzy Mo's spots but wanted to let y'all know that not only am I still alive but kickin' and being blessed by Allah subhana wa ta'ala. The months of adjustment have passed. I wanted to blog. I let exhaustion and a promise I made to myself not to complain get in my way.
Case in point: The other day I was up in arms b/c the director of the school told me I can't go to Juma'a at the masjid (RIGHT. ACROSS. THE LOT. not complain'in but dag how close can I be and not go?) because of my responsibility to the kids... even if I got a substitute. I pointed out that no, it's not obligatory on women but at the same time... girls have to miss certain weeks anyway; and as preschool teacher I don't get opportunities to prayin jama'at much anyway (the rest of the school prays dhuhr together daily), and I really benefited from the khutba the day I did go. Then resisted the urge to come up in the twennytwo spot and complain.
SO alhamdulillah today the director copied the khutbah and put it in my box. Every little blessing I can get. Glad I didn't complain.
By the way TAKBIR I have a car! It's huge and white and qualifies for historical plates and alhamdulillah it starts. It drinks gas, but I'm working a 2nd job for that (y'all didn't really think I'd stop working multiple jobs, did you?). I'm hanging out with my sister on a regular, I'm getting to work on time. I won't put the complaints out yet. Y'all will hear them but now it's all about the praise...
Welcome to those in my new community I've invited here. This is me, the real unadulterated deep down thing; inshaAllah we'll talk. To my old friends in the computer, I miss you and iA will be popping in soon.
peace
TwennyTwo
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Oh, and can somebody tell me...
peace
... why there is a big butter-colored statue of a man supposed to be the Prophet Jesus peace be upon him not 20 miles up the road from the biggest masjid on I-75?! Madness. Y'know, as crazy as it got in portareeco they never had that.
I'm just sayin'.
peace
... why there is a big butter-colored statue of a man supposed to be the Prophet Jesus peace be upon him not 20 miles up the road from the biggest masjid on I-75?! Madness. Y'know, as crazy as it got in portareeco they never had that.
I'm just sayin'.
peace
Ramadan Mubarak- Guess I got some catchin' up t'do
peace,
Okayyyy... tis late. I love Ramadan! I missed it! I waited all year for it! And now it feels like work, isn't that funny? I've been reading everyone, just no time for my own piece.
First of all, I have to say that this lil'ol ball of ardh is really really small. I was invited to an iftar at the home of the in-laws of one of my co-workers. Turns out that one of the women there knows Umm Zaid. TINY TINY SMALL WORLD. I couldn't believe it. SO that was cool.
Second, it's unimaginably harder and yet easier living with my parents. Like, easier, in that if I ask for things I can get them. As in, if I don't want to cook for iftar, my mama will cook for me (and that is mad cool after being up and working since before fajr, y'all). But also? I have this hugely hard painful knot of tension in my back from an off-hand remark someone made this morning. *sigh* Allahu Alim. I am here for a reason and I REFUSE TO COMPLAIN further. Y'all tell me if you catch me complaining, I mean it.
Third: I am in love with teaching pre-school, which is good. The re-learning I have to do is gi-normous, but the rewards are great. I mean, I get to teach kids dua'a! I get to teach them to blow their noses! I get to teach them that people have spit, not spitted. And then when I'm tired of teaching come the sweet ones under my guard. I get to pick them up. I get to give hugs and reassure them that everything is okay. I get the one who says, so softly... "Miss Two? Miss Two? Miss Two?" ... "Yes, hon? What is it?" "I love you, Miss Two."
Dude, do I deserve this?
Regardless, I'm here.
ma salaama, peace
oh yeah. PS. Please make dua'a, as I am making istikhara to buy a car. By Friday inshaAllah.
peace
Okayyyy... tis late. I love Ramadan! I missed it! I waited all year for it! And now it feels like work, isn't that funny? I've been reading everyone, just no time for my own piece.
First of all, I have to say that this lil'ol ball of ardh is really really small. I was invited to an iftar at the home of the in-laws of one of my co-workers. Turns out that one of the women there knows Umm Zaid. TINY TINY SMALL WORLD. I couldn't believe it. SO that was cool.
Second, it's unimaginably harder and yet easier living with my parents. Like, easier, in that if I ask for things I can get them. As in, if I don't want to cook for iftar, my mama will cook for me (and that is mad cool after being up and working since before fajr, y'all). But also? I have this hugely hard painful knot of tension in my back from an off-hand remark someone made this morning. *sigh* Allahu Alim. I am here for a reason and I REFUSE TO COMPLAIN further. Y'all tell me if you catch me complaining, I mean it.
Third: I am in love with teaching pre-school, which is good. The re-learning I have to do is gi-normous, but the rewards are great. I mean, I get to teach kids dua'a! I get to teach them to blow their noses! I get to teach them that people have spit, not spitted. And then when I'm tired of teaching come the sweet ones under my guard. I get to pick them up. I get to give hugs and reassure them that everything is okay. I get the one who says, so softly... "Miss Two? Miss Two? Miss Two?" ... "Yes, hon? What is it?" "I love you, Miss Two."
Dude, do I deserve this?
Regardless, I'm here.
ma salaama, peace
oh yeah. PS. Please make dua'a, as I am making istikhara to buy a car. By Friday inshaAllah.
peace
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Poised at the Exit: On 'Leaving the Deen' part I
Assalamu Alaikum wa rahmatullah wa barakatuh,
Aiight. First, you should know that this and the posts like it are in response to some internal Muslim thangs we got goin' on. But to get what I'm saying, please first go read Aaminah here and Umm Zaid (she started it! and not in a bad way, either, calm down) here.
This is what I wrote in reply to Aaminah's amazing post:
It's late, I'm tired, but this needs to be addressed. I'm one of the lucky ones in that I have no children and Alhamdulillah no diagnosed mental illnesses. But this comes at such a pertinent time for me; once AGAIN I'm the new Muslimah on the block, and I'm struggling to meet, to take ACTION and be a part of this Ummah and pull my own self away from all these darned precipices.
Umm Zaid said a couple days ago that it's the natural state of faith to increase and decrease. Well, aiight, but if it decreases and you don't know that, after the high, the rush of running to meet Allah and accept his offer of submission for the first time, wouldn't you feel empty? How do we take some serious action to reflect how serious this is?
My apologies if this is jumbled. It's late. And I'll continue later inshaAllah, but there are other things I want to talk about and miles to go before I sleep. Jazak Allah khair to Sis. Aaminah and Sis. Saraji Umm Zaid for writing and getting me started. It's on, let's see our Ummah get somewhere on this.
peace
Aiight. First, you should know that this and the posts like it are in response to some internal Muslim thangs we got goin' on. But to get what I'm saying, please first go read Aaminah here and Umm Zaid (she started it! and not in a bad way, either, calm down) here.
This is what I wrote in reply to Aaminah's amazing post:
ups.
Just went back and read the comments.
So, now that the um venting comment is done... I think I'll start here and move to my blog, and I do apologize for the long comment but I wanted to speak to y'all, here, too.
What AM I doing? Very little. I've had the position of the 'new one' in the community for... almost since I converted, actually, due to moves and such.
What could be done? What can I do? What would I like to see based on what I'm missing? Okay, let's talk about that, then:
1) Know where people are coming from. I just sat for a good 10 minutes after my colon up there thinking about what I, a new muslimah, would want people to know in order to help me.
First is, take some dawa classes and know what people might be coming from and what they're hoping for in Islam. That's not a joke.
Why?
Well, everyone is tired of seeing people with their hand out at the masjid. And yet everyone appreciates help when they need it. I came from a background where the religious institution was the FIRST resort where social help was needed. Need a ride to the service? If we don't have a van, let me see who lives close to you and can give you a ride. New to the area? Here, this is the paper list of what's going on here through the week, of course you're welcome to join us, doesn't matter if you have to come a bit late. Hungry? our institutional kitchen may have something to tide you, but we also know where you can go.
You know, so much of Islam is about denying the nafs, but when you come from a background where you're not sure how your soul will stay undamaged and still in your body, denying what you know are basic necessities is NOT what you want to hear. Neither are superficialities. Listen to new people. I think the first thing is to know what people are likely to NEED or REQUEST, intellectually as well as physically, and joyfully help your fellow muslim, born or discovered, feel like they're in a place where they will have care taken for them.
It's late, I'm tired, but this needs to be addressed. I'm one of the lucky ones in that I have no children and Alhamdulillah no diagnosed mental illnesses. But this comes at such a pertinent time for me; once AGAIN I'm the new Muslimah on the block, and I'm struggling to meet, to take ACTION and be a part of this Ummah and pull my own self away from all these darned precipices.
Umm Zaid said a couple days ago that it's the natural state of faith to increase and decrease. Well, aiight, but if it decreases and you don't know that, after the high, the rush of running to meet Allah and accept his offer of submission for the first time, wouldn't you feel empty? How do we take some serious action to reflect how serious this is?
My apologies if this is jumbled. It's late. And I'll continue later inshaAllah, but there are other things I want to talk about and miles to go before I sleep. Jazak Allah khair to Sis. Aaminah and Sis. Saraji Umm Zaid for writing and getting me started. It's on, let's see our Ummah get somewhere on this.
peace
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Workin' hard is hard work!
peace,
Assalamu Alaikum wr wb...
I know. It's been a month and a day. I've done so much in the past month, alhamdulIllah! I'm here, teaching pre-school, and okay.
more later!
Assalamu Alaikum wr wb...
I know. It's been a month and a day. I've done so much in the past month, alhamdulIllah! I'm here, teaching pre-school, and okay.
more later!
Saturday, August 04, 2007
then He answered
peace,
You know, if I were to hear this from anyone else, I'd think it was a lie. It's incredible. Also awesomely true.
Okay, so go back and read the last to understand the attitude of uncertainty and fear I had going on.
This is what has happened since:
Thursday, I attend the opening night of the MAS Maryland Tarbiya and Ilm summer camp. The one I paid for early, even though it put me right at the edge, financially. I'm beginning to understand that I need an Islamic immersion every couple months or so, and this was the way I chose to do it this time.
My ride to camp? Mahmood, he of the speeding foot and fascinating mind. I embarassed myself by keeping him waiting. And then hugging one of my friends while he waited. I don't wanna talk about it. I'll get there.
The relief of camp in part had to do with being in a practically all-female environment, too.
Thursday through Sunday- a whole weekend- camp was focused on self-knowledge and being close to Allah, and featured camp bunks, great (I mean ALHAMDULILLAH great) food, nature walks, and lots of learning and reading. And praying. Learning new dua'a, learning the reasons and protections from them, and praying every prayer plus sunnah plus qiyam on time. It was marvelous. And my personal prayer theme was Trusting Allah. I just wanted/want to get to the point where all that I do is what He wants me to do and all that I want is His way, His will, His light, His love. That was my prayer.
Of course, y'all know me- so I'm sure some of that came out in "Just tell me what to do for You!" format. Anyway.
At the end of Sunday when we're all leaving and turning our phones back on, I've got 10 missed calls. Turns out a director for a private school where my parents live wants me to interview.
I called him back: "I can't interview. My grandmother just died and then I went to a Tarbiya and Ilm retreat; it would be incredibly irresponsible for me to miss any more time, especially for something like this."
His response? "We can meet you on a Saturday."
Yes. Yes, we ended up meeting on the following Saturday after 'Asr (around 5:30 local time at this point).
Those of you familiar with the educational world know that this isn't done. Interviewing a teacher on a Saturday?
So I rent (with many attempted interventions from shaytan- remind me to let y'all know why you shouldn't use Pric.eline EVER for car rentals) a car and drive the 520 miles to my parents' house, shower, and meet the director and the vice principal at the school.
This is when I bust the superduper list of questions/reasons why I can't and shouldn't take this job.
"I had a license in Puerto Rico, but it wasn't for this state. I no longer have it; and I've never worked with pre-schoolers before. I don't know if I could take this position without licensing prospects."
Response? "There are four $35, reimbursed classes you need to take in order to get the preschool provider title. As a former EMT, you already are familiar with 3 of them, and the fourth on child abuse recognition is part of your previous training as well. The school holds that license. In addition, if you get a master's degree in education, since you already have many of the credits, we can fast-track you to the private school license. If you want the full state license, and still need some courses after you check that out at the local university, we offer up to 50% of tuition reimbursement for your courses with a limit of a certain amount, of course."
Yeah. That took me a sec to get. But then...
"I don't have the money to move on the spot, especially if you want me to be here and teaching in three weeks. I give a final exam in two weeks, and I"m obligated until then. "
Response? " We've given you top salary for a new teacher, with insurance beginning the day you'd arrive in the city, plus full relocation expenses. We'll give you a day or two around the first date, we understand you'd be moving and all."
RELOCATION EXPENSES? From a SCHOOL?! Y'all better say mashaAllah.
"I don't have a car. And after the bereavement and burial of my grandmother, plus all the travel before her death, my fam won't be in position to help me get one. My getting here daily might involve my being here at the masjid as early as 6:30 AM and then as late as 6:30 PM every day. I don't want to take this job knowing that I may not be able to get here on time every day. What you're paying wouldn't quite be enough for me to handle a car payment."
Response? " Well, let's look through the teacher files and see if anyone is close to you, who ought to be able to carpool... 12312...12345-"
"Wait, 12345? That's my parents' zipcode! What street?"
The street the director reads is the one right behind my parents' house. He offers to call that teacher and ask her about carpool arrangements. We're all pretty sanguine at that point- if she wants, she doesn't even have to pick me up. I can walk to her house even if there's a foot of snow outside, no problem. And I can help with gas, too.
We go to visit the classroom and I ask a ton of questions, all which are answered by the vice director, who's awesome- she's leaving to move to Jordan. She tells me quite enthusiastically how great life as a muslim is in my parents' town, and reassures me that I'd have a connection to the youth through one of the teachers at the school, who's big into MAS and knows a lot of other young ladies.
The director reminds me that he'd love to meet my parents, esp. my mother, as I leave the school. He's given me a printed copy of my contract outlining all the terms including salary and the expected amount of relocation expenses, pre-signed by the director of the masjid's school board.
I'm dazed.
I go home and discuss with my parents. My father isn't thrilled that I'd be back- but on the other hand, as I let him know, my primary purpose in moving would be to teach, while living such that I can knock out the Puerto Rico debt once and for all. Then I'd be off to nursing school with the advantage of not having to work and being able to live on scholarships/loans if I need to do that.
The kicker? After I'm back in DC, exhaustedly teaching 3 sessions per day at the little English school that could, I get a call from the director of the school. He's offering me a position with a woman who'd pay me $25 per hour for about 2 hours of tutoring for her kids in English daily. With that, he says, about $500 per month over my salary, I could actually afford a car. He goes so far to say that his goal is to have me possibly driving before school starts the last week of August.
And to me, that means I could potentially begin education classes at the city's state school. With a car in working order- and $400/month would get me a great used car, inshaAllah, not to mention new (but I refuse to finance that much if at all possible)- I could get to and from night classes without running my parents nuts.
That's when I said subhanAllah. I was praising God from the minute I got the calls at camp, but this has been one pointer after another, leaving me no choice but to choose this. I mean, I'd be working at a recognized Islamic school, with children at an awesome developmental age. I'd be given the chance to knock out an oppressive amount of debt and live with my family while I do so. I'd be near my mother, who has just lost her mother and craves family. I've been given the chance to redeem and renew myself.
SubHanAllah.
There are still kinks to be worked out; everything is not hunky dory. I had just found a Qur'an teacher in a sister (ummm okay I'll call her Sis H.) I met at camp; so many friends I have are here. I dont' know what's up with Mahmood. ( when I asked sis. H. about being crush-a-licious, she agreed to ask the fam if he's looking to get married...!!!) Issues with taxes from PR are still trying to follow me around; I have to clean my room tonight (yeah) and find someone to take over my lease, lest I be stuck with $650 rent for a place I wouldn't be using and can't afford to hold. But after the blessing of this week... I refuse to be worried. I will just do everything in my power to be responsible enough to get to Ohio and start working for Him there.
I mean... I yelled a question. I asked. And I got a definite answer to act on. How real and good and true and awesome is God!! Takbir!
You know, if I were to hear this from anyone else, I'd think it was a lie. It's incredible. Also awesomely true.
Okay, so go back and read the last to understand the attitude of uncertainty and fear I had going on.
This is what has happened since:
Thursday, I attend the opening night of the MAS Maryland Tarbiya and Ilm summer camp. The one I paid for early, even though it put me right at the edge, financially. I'm beginning to understand that I need an Islamic immersion every couple months or so, and this was the way I chose to do it this time.
My ride to camp? Mahmood, he of the speeding foot and fascinating mind. I embarassed myself by keeping him waiting. And then hugging one of my friends while he waited. I don't wanna talk about it. I'll get there.
The relief of camp in part had to do with being in a practically all-female environment, too.
Thursday through Sunday- a whole weekend- camp was focused on self-knowledge and being close to Allah, and featured camp bunks, great (I mean ALHAMDULILLAH great) food, nature walks, and lots of learning and reading. And praying. Learning new dua'a, learning the reasons and protections from them, and praying every prayer plus sunnah plus qiyam on time. It was marvelous. And my personal prayer theme was Trusting Allah. I just wanted/want to get to the point where all that I do is what He wants me to do and all that I want is His way, His will, His light, His love. That was my prayer.
Of course, y'all know me- so I'm sure some of that came out in "Just tell me what to do for You!" format. Anyway.
At the end of Sunday when we're all leaving and turning our phones back on, I've got 10 missed calls. Turns out a director for a private school where my parents live wants me to interview.
I called him back: "I can't interview. My grandmother just died and then I went to a Tarbiya and Ilm retreat; it would be incredibly irresponsible for me to miss any more time, especially for something like this."
His response? "We can meet you on a Saturday."
Yes. Yes, we ended up meeting on the following Saturday after 'Asr (around 5:30 local time at this point).
Those of you familiar with the educational world know that this isn't done. Interviewing a teacher on a Saturday?
So I rent (with many attempted interventions from shaytan- remind me to let y'all know why you shouldn't use Pric.eline EVER for car rentals) a car and drive the 520 miles to my parents' house, shower, and meet the director and the vice principal at the school.
This is when I bust the superduper list of questions/reasons why I can't and shouldn't take this job.
"I had a license in Puerto Rico, but it wasn't for this state. I no longer have it; and I've never worked with pre-schoolers before. I don't know if I could take this position without licensing prospects."
Response? "There are four $35, reimbursed classes you need to take in order to get the preschool provider title. As a former EMT, you already are familiar with 3 of them, and the fourth on child abuse recognition is part of your previous training as well. The school holds that license. In addition, if you get a master's degree in education, since you already have many of the credits, we can fast-track you to the private school license. If you want the full state license, and still need some courses after you check that out at the local university, we offer up to 50% of tuition reimbursement for your courses with a limit of a certain amount, of course."
Yeah. That took me a sec to get. But then...
"I don't have the money to move on the spot, especially if you want me to be here and teaching in three weeks. I give a final exam in two weeks, and I"m obligated until then. "
Response? " We've given you top salary for a new teacher, with insurance beginning the day you'd arrive in the city, plus full relocation expenses. We'll give you a day or two around the first date, we understand you'd be moving and all."
RELOCATION EXPENSES? From a SCHOOL?! Y'all better say mashaAllah.
"I don't have a car. And after the bereavement and burial of my grandmother, plus all the travel before her death, my fam won't be in position to help me get one. My getting here daily might involve my being here at the masjid as early as 6:30 AM and then as late as 6:30 PM every day. I don't want to take this job knowing that I may not be able to get here on time every day. What you're paying wouldn't quite be enough for me to handle a car payment."
Response? " Well, let's look through the teacher files and see if anyone is close to you, who ought to be able to carpool... 12312...12345-"
"Wait, 12345? That's my parents' zipcode! What street?"
The street the director reads is the one right behind my parents' house. He offers to call that teacher and ask her about carpool arrangements. We're all pretty sanguine at that point- if she wants, she doesn't even have to pick me up. I can walk to her house even if there's a foot of snow outside, no problem. And I can help with gas, too.
We go to visit the classroom and I ask a ton of questions, all which are answered by the vice director, who's awesome- she's leaving to move to Jordan. She tells me quite enthusiastically how great life as a muslim is in my parents' town, and reassures me that I'd have a connection to the youth through one of the teachers at the school, who's big into MAS and knows a lot of other young ladies.
The director reminds me that he'd love to meet my parents, esp. my mother, as I leave the school. He's given me a printed copy of my contract outlining all the terms including salary and the expected amount of relocation expenses, pre-signed by the director of the masjid's school board.
I'm dazed.
I go home and discuss with my parents. My father isn't thrilled that I'd be back- but on the other hand, as I let him know, my primary purpose in moving would be to teach, while living such that I can knock out the Puerto Rico debt once and for all. Then I'd be off to nursing school with the advantage of not having to work and being able to live on scholarships/loans if I need to do that.
The kicker? After I'm back in DC, exhaustedly teaching 3 sessions per day at the little English school that could, I get a call from the director of the school. He's offering me a position with a woman who'd pay me $25 per hour for about 2 hours of tutoring for her kids in English daily. With that, he says, about $500 per month over my salary, I could actually afford a car. He goes so far to say that his goal is to have me possibly driving before school starts the last week of August.
And to me, that means I could potentially begin education classes at the city's state school. With a car in working order- and $400/month would get me a great used car, inshaAllah, not to mention new (but I refuse to finance that much if at all possible)- I could get to and from night classes without running my parents nuts.
That's when I said subhanAllah. I was praising God from the minute I got the calls at camp, but this has been one pointer after another, leaving me no choice but to choose this. I mean, I'd be working at a recognized Islamic school, with children at an awesome developmental age. I'd be given the chance to knock out an oppressive amount of debt and live with my family while I do so. I'd be near my mother, who has just lost her mother and craves family. I've been given the chance to redeem and renew myself.
SubHanAllah.
There are still kinks to be worked out; everything is not hunky dory. I had just found a Qur'an teacher in a sister (ummm okay I'll call her Sis H.) I met at camp; so many friends I have are here. I dont' know what's up with Mahmood. ( when I asked sis. H. about being crush-a-licious, she agreed to ask the fam if he's looking to get married...!!!) Issues with taxes from PR are still trying to follow me around; I have to clean my room tonight (yeah) and find someone to take over my lease, lest I be stuck with $650 rent for a place I wouldn't be using and can't afford to hold. But after the blessing of this week... I refuse to be worried. I will just do everything in my power to be responsible enough to get to Ohio and start working for Him there.
I mean... I yelled a question. I asked. And I got a definite answer to act on. How real and good and true and awesome is God!! Takbir!
Friday, July 27, 2007
Right now
peace
so right now i'm throwing my fist up at the sky and hollering,
"where is my sustenance! You promised! where is it?! how am i supposed to make it?!"
in a friendly, loving, obedient and respectful way
of course
and while my head knows i am owed nothing but death i need my heart to be at peace with it
but not so as to hasten that particular debt collector
and all i'm really saying is that i work all day every day and i work alone
(but for You)
so not paying the rent or not eating shouldn't be an option because i work
(for You alone)
if one more person tells me i have to sacrifice they will truly sacrifice themselves for my sake
i know what i have to do
i know how it is (its hard)
i don't know how to be. show me how to be patient. show me how to be frugal. show me how to be friendless. show me how to be homeless.
its not that i dont trust You more like i don't trust me
but i live for You and You, you're up there sending down sustenance
right
and i don't want to miss it so i'm looking real hard
right now
i don't want to make any decisions because they're all bad
except that i still trust You
right now
i need You for real
that's all i'm saying
so right now i'm throwing my fist up at the sky and hollering,
"where is my sustenance! You promised! where is it?! how am i supposed to make it?!"
in a friendly, loving, obedient and respectful way
of course
and while my head knows i am owed nothing but death i need my heart to be at peace with it
but not so as to hasten that particular debt collector
and all i'm really saying is that i work all day every day and i work alone
(but for You)
so not paying the rent or not eating shouldn't be an option because i work
(for You alone)
if one more person tells me i have to sacrifice they will truly sacrifice themselves for my sake
i know what i have to do
i know how it is (its hard)
i don't know how to be. show me how to be patient. show me how to be frugal. show me how to be friendless. show me how to be homeless.
its not that i dont trust You more like i don't trust me
but i live for You and You, you're up there sending down sustenance
right
and i don't want to miss it so i'm looking real hard
right now
i don't want to make any decisions because they're all bad
except that i still trust You
right now
i need You for real
that's all i'm saying
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