Disney

assalamu alaikum,

So, without giving away too many details (even though I suspect a great many people who know me in real life read this blog without telling me so...), we went on a field trip to Disney this long weekend.

It was great! The trip began cold and wet- I mean, walking around in 50 degree downpours, cold and wet. But that first day was decent. Or, it would've been, if Delta hadn't lost my bags. At least I didn't have to make up a song ala 'United Breaks Guitars'. But when I got the bag back, it was missing some things.

Eh.

We visited 3 parks: Animal Kingdom (created since I'd last been to the parks... whoo boy, that was 13 years ago!), Epcot, and the Magic Kingdom.
It was interesting to see how many Muslims were at the park (answer: not many). I got so excited and would go, 'Muslim sighting!' every time I saw a group with women in hijab. That was fun, the kids got into that too.
And things were pretty crowded even though it was chilly and, well, February. I figured that the Southern Hemisphere folk were out in force; I heard a lot of Portuguese and Spanish going on around me. That was fun, too.

I miss Florida, miss puerto Rico, love those tropical, moist, warm climates. If 50 degrees is cold, I'll take it! Palm trees and sunshine make me happy. This trip was rejuvenating.

One of the kids gave me a heart attack, though, and it really took the enjoyment out of one of the days. She just walked off without saying where she was going to anyone in the group.

Worst 10 minutes of my life, to date. Indirectly I think I have Imette to thank for that. I now absolutely know what could happen when one person is off by themselves, confidently exploring in a public place. I guess I'm still processing her death, 3 years later.

But anyway.

Point for me is that I need to revisit the parks when I can go and shop and sightsee and ride things as an adult, without having to chaperone the young ones. This trip was all about them; I was so happy to see them enjoying themselves. They got to do their thing (and did it well, I might add), shop, ride (really tame and lame) rollercoasters and see attractions.

May was the point person for this trip. I'm really actively trying to learn more from and about May. She's really an amazing person. My upbringing taught me adult-centrism; it was harsh and showed me exactly how to behave around authority, even though it kept me safe. May's kids are sometimes disobedient, but they are loving and she really does focus on them. It's an interesting way to be, and I feel I need a lot more tenderness to go with my obedience.


So yeah, Disney. It was fun.

peace
twenny

Halal, Organic, Pasture-fed TURKEY for Eid

Assalamu Alaikum,

Long time no see, I know. Believe it or not, I posted several times in September... and took them down. Who needs to show their not-so-hot side all the time? I do it enough here.

I did want to pass on a link, in time for the Eid holidays: Halal Zabiha Organic Turkey.

I know I've got plenty of friends who only eat zabiha, or are trying to increase their animal-friendly eating; this combines both. I happen to know the family that runs Green Zabiha, so I know they're trustworthy. And, well, since I actually can spend the cash (not cheap but in line with what zabiha meat is out here in the Midwest), I want to give my whole family an Eid gift of wholesome food. They're not Muslim but they can still benefit.


Is anyone else geeked out and excited over the fact that Eid falls near Thanksgiving this year? Dude! I'm so happy to have a day off with my mother and sister again. It'll be a while before the day falls concurrently with a gregorian holiday again.

I'll be back. Got a post brewing on marriage advice, oh boy, just what we all want to hear.

peace


So yeah, get over to Green Zabiha if you want that turkey.

Un poco perdida

Assalamu Alaikum,

I dunno, my soul feels hispanoparlante, so forgive me if you don't read Spanish.

Me encuentro un poco perdida. No, y más que un poco.

Pero, ¿porqué?

Primero, es que siento traicionada. No solamente por el hecho del casamiento del niño, sino porque, otra vez me encuentro aquí, al medio año, sin casarme y sin prospetos en el área de casamiento. Por más que trato de negarlo, de ignorarlo, eso duele, mano. Duele mucho.

Faltan 30 días para mi vigesimo-octavo cumpleaños.

Tambien me siento apresionada de una manera súbtil, lo que me trae hasta la locura. Cuando yo llegue a mi lugar de empleo, lo dije al jefe bien claro: no soy una mujer sumamente organizada. Limpia, sí; organizada, no. Pero por entonces se le ha occurido no menos que dos veces a la mes condenarme por no ser organizada.

Hasta que, ahora no es que no soy organizada sino que me encuentro evitando, escaseando organizar. Primero porque, no sé cómo hacerlo. Y segundo, una llega a resentir mucho los característicos mas comentados, siento que me han dado hasta que sangra sin decir nada y estoy llegando al grito.

Además, me encantan los lugares organizados. No hay nadie que dé cursos de organizacion en universidad, pero eso es exactamente lo que preciso.


En otros lados, estaba hablando con una amiga el otro dia, y mencionó que un matrimonio que ella conozca estan pasando por problemas. Hasta me hizo hacer duaá por ellos, porque yo si intimamente entiendo lo que estan pasando: la mujer pasará muchas problemas en parir, y por entonces el hombre quiere casarse con otra mujer (son musulmanes y no permanezcan aquí en los EEUU). A ella le dará mucho si él tuviera otra matrimonio a la véz, y tampoco quiere divorciarse; él no quiere pasarse de su derecho de tener hijos y no quiere perjudicarle el salud a su primera mujer.

Ayyyyy que caso. Fíjate.

Aprecio mucho que por lo menos mi amiga no mencionó los especificos de la situación, ya que entiendo lo doloroso pueda ser si salga quiénes son.

Lo veo de ambos lados. Me habían dicho alguna vez que no podrìa tener hijos. Imaginate, ser mujer negra, alta, Y¿ esteríl? ¡ NUNCA me casaría! Especialmente en ésta comunidad de musulmanes, tan enfocados en procreación. Estaba muy nerviosa hasta que resolvieron lo que me pasaba. Y, a mi me encantan los niños; siempre he dicho que me gustaría tener a lo menos cinco. (jajaja, y todas mis amigas hasta hoy me dicen... espere hasta que tienes el primero, aver...)
Por eso es que, aunque no soy muy celosa, he caminado en los pasos de la mujer en ese matrimonio, y hice duà que Alá subjanaju wa taàla le resolviera lo que paso entre ella y su esposo.

Tambien lo veo por el ról del esposo. Imagina que te enamoras con un hombre, y tenías posibilidad de casarse con otro a la vez, es decir, tener matrimonio polígamo. Como te casaste "por amor", y amas al primer hombre, no lo quieres dejar. Pero a la vez, quieres cinco hijos- o por lo menos, dos, si Dios quiere- y el amor de tu vida, tu primer hombre, esta planteado a frente del vìa. ¿Què harías? Aunque le dolía mucho a mi esposo, no puedo decir que decidiera a favor de no casarme con hombre que me diera hijo. Y como quiera nadie va salir ileso de la situacion. Tengo que orar por ambos.

¿Qué mas? Aún estoy de recuperación del choque del otro día. De verdad salió que el seguro de la mujer habìa vencido hace tiempo, lo que llevó la compañia a negarlo, y por entonces mis rates van a subir, thanks! Lo que me preocupa es que cuando me cotejaron el nivel de glucosa en mi sangre estaba sumamente alta, indicación nueva que el diabetes genetica de mi familia me caza de nuevo. Cosa es, que cada vez que paso por el examen de ayuno, mis nùmeros y niveles salen bajitos. No lo entiendo, pues hay mas duaá que hacer. Cosa buena que salio del dia pésimo que era mi mièrcoles: actuè como intèrprete por un hombre que estaba alla con su gerente (ambos trabajadores en una compañia de comida muy popular), y no solamente me dieron certificado para comida gratis, pero el doctor y la gerente de su oficina estaban tan impresionados, que me pidieron una tarjeta de informacion, ¡ para llamarme si es que me necesitan de nuevo! ¡Aljamdulilá!

Ahora, tengo que encontrar impresora.... pero finalmente, ¿no es un problema deseable?

peace

TwennyTwo

Mrs. Moore- and making it to Spring Break

assalamu alaikum,

Ohmagosh. Y'all, finally arriving at Spring Break was like making it to the end of a long hard workout that you didn't want to do in the first place. That was TOUGH! And I RESENTED it! We went from January to April with no breaks. I'm incensed that even though we're an Islamic school, we have to follow our local public district- and they based their break on the Christian calendar. That just meant that we went two months without a break, is all. That, and our break ends with Easter, so all the kids will be bombarded on their week off with pastel bunnies and candy and egg baskets and I don't know what all. I'm not mad at that; just that I'd be a lot more okay if, at Eid, we couldn't escape the 'Eid Mubaraks' and the 'takabarAllah'greetings, if sarees,and silks, and nice suits went on sale, if 'Eid Candy' were even a prospect.

Eh, part of this is that I'm grumpy because this break isn't long enough. I'm trying to figure out how to make it to see Umm Layth. It's been two months without a break, and my disposition suffered.

Two months is not that long. Unless you don't love your job. Then it's sucky.

Lots to think about. I'm currently typing with my Mac on my lap (I love Apple computers. I wish I had that huge Mac Book, but on the other hand, I love love love my baby and I'm happy I have it) while sitting in my bed, my legs propped on a pile of laundry. Who does this to themselves? I have a huge pile of laundry to do. ANd I really don't want to. Which is why I'm writing this post, to anticipate it being done and being able to do other stuff with my spring break.

I was just looking over my archives, and whoa, have I evolved in the past five years. I remember that chick who used to write here when she lived in portareeco, and she was fun, but having lived through what I did... I'm me. Won't be doing that again.

It surprises me how much more my spirituality comes out in my writing; Islam is definitely a fixed part of my identity. I realized it when I was trying to control my reactions earlier.
My favorite teacher, Mrs. A. Jeanne Moore, died on Sunday. I loved her dearly; it's a testament to her class that my Brotha from Anotha Motha (I'm officially giving im the blogname BAM) over there <--- agrees. (He's a grump-wump about teachers in general. Or he was when we were in high school.) She'd spell out the word 'Conservopolis' and made us learn it- this city's name is NOT a joke, even the national media misspells it occasionally. She taught me to write cursive. She taught me to love my self and enjoyed my wacky writing.

That last was most important for me, especially since Mrs. Moore was my first Black teacher. Now, Conservopolis has a decent educational system (even now one of our high schools is being featured on cable TV), and the program BAM and I began in was spectacular. We had two teachers per day from KG through 4th grade; but it wasn't until 2nd grade that we had Mrs. Moore. What she taught us counted; how she saw us stuck in a lot of ways.

(YES, I remember that this is a story about my spiritual identity creeping up on me everywhere. I'm getting there.)

Now, most of you know that I was raised as a Christian, where my mother was very spiritual and my father noncommittal as far as I could see (nowadays he goes to church regularly etc.), so we'd go to church with Mama. Mrs. Moore also attended the same church as my family. I don't know why I didn't realize this until after 2nd grade, but she did. So she was there to witness my pre-teen bossiness and our choir concerts. She was a Delta, and was so super proud when I did my debut with the Deltas. Yes, I'm a Delta Debutante! She sponsored me and came to my ball.

All that was before Islam.

Well, so yesterday my mother told me she died, and I just started sobbing. And the first thing I said? 'Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un' (From God we come, and to God we return). As I contemplated her life today, I thanked God for sending her to be my teacher- she retired just 3 years after I took her class. Today at the time of her funeral, I prayed for her- not the old prayers of my youth; no, what instinctively came to my mind were the pleas of the 'righteous legacy'. "Oh Lord! Expand her grave for her. Let her benefit from our good deeds. Oh Lord! Make the grave light for her, and let righteous Angels and sweet scents be her company. Oh Lord! Accept her good deeds, and make them outweigh the sins by seven times.". And then I added, to myself, 'She was not a Muslim, but she believed in You'.

Then I went back up to the school. The actual elementary school where we all took Mrs. Moore's class is gone, now; they tore it down and rebuilt it. When I walked in, who should I see but Mrs. C, the secretary from my days there! So I got the chance to let her know about Mrs. Moore.

Y'all, I spent a good 20 minutes reminiscing with Mrs. C., since her son Jason was in my class. But I had to stop myself, because every other word out of my mouth would've been 'MashaAllah!' or , 'SubHanAllah!'
Like when she told me that she has a 9 year old grandson, or when she talked about how my old girlfriends now have kids. I really took notice of how often I had to change my expressions around. And I talk a lot. So for me to incorporate dhikr like that means I've made a good deal of addition to my vocabulary. ... MashaAllah.

Hmph. While I was in the office, another lady was there who remembered Mrs. Moore and happened to know of the church since her cousins (who I also grew up with, small world) go there. First thing she said, was, "Oh, you Muslim?" Second question was, "Oh, some man turned you into that?"


*sigh*.

The irony is, I WISH I'd married some man who insisted that his be an Islamic house.

As much as I have incorporated my praise and worship into my life, it seems I will always be an ambassador for Islam, so I better get a little more in.


I don't have much more to say... or rather, I can't seem to type it over the din of the clothes-pile under my feet. InshaAllah I'll be back before the end of the week.

peace

NaBloPoMo

Assalamu Alaikum,

Wow, NaBloPoMo is back. This is national blog posting month, in which you post every single day for a month.

I make no promises, but am starting out in good faith. Today was... I feel like I got nothing done toward MY goals today, just everyone else's.

But there's a social event at the downtown mosque today that I"m going to. So I'll do that, and moon over the fact that my Baji is sick. (Anyone have any cures for nausea that don't involve ginger? Or eating a cracker/dry carb before you sit up in bed? That and accupuncture is all I got. I'm pretty sure she's unhappy but since she's not talking... I thought I'd ask for help.)

One day. I make no promises, but here's the intention.

peace
TwennyTwo

Ramadhan Mubarak!

Assalamu Alaikum,

Well. Little time to say it, lots to say.

This year was my unique opportunity to bring in Ramadhan at ISNA. I love me some ISNA. When I was a teen I did the NAACP national Convention every year; I have graduated to the ISNA-itis. I was there, you probably saw me if you were there, and just didn't know it.

And, I met UmmZaid! That was mad cool. She could've been all shady and acted like she didnt' know me, and she didn't , we hugged, and I'm glad to see the face in front of the mind I love to read. InshaAllah we'll meet again.

I also met HijabMan, he's funny. I meant to go back to his booth and just ran out of cash (ISNA bazaar is not a joke, ya'll) so when I get paid (inshaAllah) I'll be over there pestering him to send me merch through the internet. I want the shirt that says Muslims love Jesus, too. So to the point.

I had the opportunity to explain just that to one of the workers at the convention center. He asked me, do ya'll have Jesus? And I really enjoyed the 10 minutes we took to speak. InshaAllah he'll be guided.

I also feel so loved after that convention. There was a point where I couldn't walk from one end of the hall to the other, for meeting someone I knew and hadn't seen in years. I needed that boost. It was sooo good to see my friends, my peoples I loved so well while in school, the forgiving and the loving. Man. When we get it right we Muslims really are trying to be closer to Allah and it shows.
I'm begininng to understand this about myself: that I need to feel loved like other people need to look good, or other people need to eat good food, or other people need to seek Allah. How I connect that to Islam and taqwa is my challenge moving forward.

I found a Qur'an that suffices. It doesn't have the fancy notches, but it does have the large print. Alhamdulillah!

It's back to earth now. I've been up too long; and I"m investing in some eye cream because this Ramadhan, with school starting tomorrow, promises to be short on that sleep stuff *groan*. May your fasts and deeds be accepted, may you be guided to remain on the straight path, may Allah bless you and your loved ones in all you do,amin. Ramadhan Kareem!

peace
TwennyTwo

Yup. Me.

assalamu alaikum,
,
Yes. Me. And what a ride the past couple of weeks have been.

I did get into the Fawakih program, and it is a lot of hard work! I didn't know how much I didn't know until I began. Wa Allahu Alim. I'm sleep deprived already from the studying. I like most of the people there, and the ones who get on my nerves have good intentions, inshaAllah, so I'm making the best of it and working hard to learn, learn learn! I'm happy even as frantic as I've been to study. You know how it's said that doctors are the worst patients? I'm starting to think that teachers are the worst students, wa audhu billah. This is hard!! I've burst into tears twice during tajweed class, and I don't know why it makes me so nervous. I think my perception that I'm the worst in the class isn't helping, especially when we have to listen to everybody else in the class and then recite behind them. I hate the reading in front of a lot of people, esp. the Sheikh- he's really good, I'm embarassed to read so badly when I really do know how to read better- and my roommate, who is excellent. And full of advice. The other teachers are pretty good as well. The program is so accelerated that I feel that's my major hurdle- what for everyone else in my group is review is new material for me and I'm suffering through, studying hard.

I'm making dua'a for one of the sisters there; on the second day her mother in law was put into the hospital because of an accident. She is so nice, and we were sorry to see her family in such pain when she was already struggling just to make it to the program- she has a tiny baby and two other kids. I look at her and learn exactly what dedication to learning is about. mashaAllah.

Because my boss has control and memory issues, and so forgot to tell me until I was 200 miles away at Fawakih, I'm leaving now to go back to Conservopolis and take care of some urgent work business. I'm very frazzled over this. Gas is super high, and now you ask me to make a four-hour round trip? Plus I'm missing the biggest day of f'il conjugations, and I'll have to do the homework and then drive back tomorrow morning. InshaAllah. The good news is that I get to hear Ustadha Noura Shamma give a talk tonight, and I get to sleep in my own bed. This is major. I probably won't get (or take) the chance again to come back during the month, so I'm taking advantage now.

InshaAllah I'll post again just to talk about what's going on here at Fawakih.

peace
TwennyTwo

just. don't. stop.

assalamu alaikum,

if you're going through hell
keep going
-unknown

And a very happy Memorial Day to you United States Americans out there.

i'm a jumble of emotions and actions and intentions just now. i woke up before fajr (way before fajr) thinking of my grandmother, the one who died not that long ago, and i haven't actually been the most cheerful chipper cheerleader lately anyway.

It's a struggle. Everything is a struggle. More so now than most times, but. That's how it goes, idn't it?

It astonishes me that i am still processing grandma's death. because a year ago, she wasn't dead. And because before she was dead i didn't really need her. no, that's not right. More like i didn't really talk to her. Because we fought a lot before she died. A lot a lot. Too much. To the point where i could not see any other way to feel about her but a strong negative. i felt pushed into hating her and i couldn't stand that every time i approached her i was rebuffed or criticised. Every. Time.

It was the sheerest choking surprise when i looked at my mother's face and saw she wasn't lying or trying to deceive me when my mother said, "My mother loves you, honey." Love was the last emotion i'd use to describe what went on between my mother's mother and me. And i was hurt and mad and ashamed that i felt this way about someone and couldn't stop myself. It was my duty to love her and i did not see a way to do so. Forgive, maybe, but i still don't know where love would come from in that relationship. And i'm angry at myself for that, too. For not loving and for asking myself to love where i was so deeply hurt. i feel caught. even as i make dua'a to Allah to expand her grave and make it light, and i do that almost every time i pray. i don't know why.

Today i caught myself praying that my children never feel the way about my mother that i feel about my grandmother, that my grandchildren never feel that way about me.

ha. children. grandchildren. inshaAllah.

Shoot, now there's the question of the day- where does love come from at all? Must be from above. i don't want to be philosophical or anything, just that question seems really applicable to my life lately. i was able to stop taking certain meds, and that's great. but stopping means my mood swings to extremes as a side effect, until my body is back to 'normal'. (Don't use drugs, drugs are baaad). i start wondering if i really should feel how i feel. And what is love, anyway?

i went to the u of conservopolis msa picnic today. Got lost and got there really late. Frustrating, really, how i know so many places here, have been all over the city, and yet cannot drive myself to any of them because i didn't learn to drive and so didn't drive myself anywhere until after i left conservopolis. i know landmarks and not street names. The picnic today was at one of those places; we held my Sr. class cut day at the park there. Nine years ago this week, as a matter of fact.

good grief, i've been out of high school for nine years. that's a whole 'nother pot of anguish right there. Or, it could be, but i'm not going there.

as happy as i was to be out-of-doors on probably one of the last pretty days before that huge band of tornado-and-thunderstorm weather hits (and i'm still praying for those killed in the last couple of days), man, i've got to get me some girlfriends or something. And that takes time. And a certain softening of my personality that comes, like, twice a year maybe. Otherwise my directness and forthrightness and brashness doesn't lend itself to being close with the women in this particular group. *sigh*.

i know it's how it's supposed to be, and some of my fave women were there, but some of the Catty Crew were also there. I have to forgive their youth a LOT, and i have some forgetting to do over the MYNA camp this winter. And i hope they can forgive whatever they must be seeing in me. i can be a hard person to deal with.
And it was one of those things where the sisters 'mingled with' and 'ignored' the brothers. We all shared the same space but there wasn't a lot of talking, which, again, i mean, alhamdulillah, it's something i still struggle with all the time. My assistant, A., was there, and i was glad to see her but i think we shouldn't maybe see each other so much. Seema was there. A couple other sisters i love talking to were there. Marya was there. So was Farhan. In fact, i think that whole family was there. i like his sister, but didn't get to talk to either of them as much as i'd like.

i spend so much time looking out, or looking back, or looking forward, but the reason i'm going through so much is because i want to be happy with the now. And that's a hard balance to find. As goal oriented as i am, as many things as i want for myself, i know i get too focused with what should be, too wrapped in the target to feel the bow. i forget that in order to fly i have to let go, too.

And i have to forgive myself. Everybody has bad days. i've been listening and taking in what others say, and it's been causing me hell. i can't allow my good days to be determined by anyone else's gauge. Maybe my desk and my bedroom are all awry, the details of xyz event aren't written, i forgot to say salaams to someone, i'm not meek and certainly not married. i haven't been to the gym that i'm paying for in a month, my brows are bushy, and my mood has changed from this second to that.

But hey, my shoes are on the right feet, my clothes and body are clean, there's gas in my car and food to eat (ho, boy, is there food to eat...), i show up to work. once in a while i even halfway smile. i'm still going somewhere- one foot in front of the other. i'm still going through hell. That's okay. i just can't stop.

peace
TwennyTwo

Belong... y, dudas.

assalamu alaikum,

"Don't take it personal. No matter what people say to you, don't take it personal. I't's not about you. It's about them." -Yahaira Liriano

I used to could hate me some Yahaira. I mean really couldn't stand her. She personified everything about GIRLS in general I don't like.

But that doesn't mean she isn't right.

It has been a day. My 'kids' (I am childless, thank you very much) had their 'graduation' program today. Meaning a little more than half of the morning class was promoted. To kindergarten. And the parents were so complimentary (Alhamdulillah, everything went well and no one tripped and fell off the stage). And my room mothers made sure the food went without a hitch.





You know what my problem really is? Exclusion.

I like to be included in things that catch my interest. It's fun to be a part of a group that promotes my favorite team, for instance. I'm no different from anyone else in that, I hope.

And so it surprises me that I still get heartily, heavily, truthfully and genuinely angry when I am excluded from things. I get furiously upset when I see other groups of people deliberately excluding others. This is the aspect of cliques and such that I was thinking about when I deliberately wrote the title, "I. hate. GIRLS.".

It makes me sad that I even got so angry that I wrote that. I love girls. I see myself in them. I am one. Alhamdulillah. As much as I miss my lifeline circle of guys I do adore being a girl in so many little ways. And men can be clique-ish, too. Lord knows I have seen it.

But this has been characterized as such a feminine trait, and I see it so MUCH in the little (tiny!) girls I work with, that I'm just beyond the anger to wondering. What is this really about?

Belonging.

Why do girls learn to be so darn clique-ish at such an early age? It's annoying. It's infuriating. And it becomes ingrained.

I wish I could exclude myself from that statement. But I've done it to others. In reaction, or hurt, or, may Allah forgive me if it's true, perhaps out of sheer ability to do so, to push the other away.

************************************************************

People get really really angry, sometimes, if you project what you're thinking or your motivations or your skills onto them. It's not the best habit to have.

I wish I could see evidence of people thinking of the opposite, though.
If I don't project some of my very human feelings, motives, and abilities on the people I meet, then I become pretty inconsiderate, incurious, condescending. That's a sociopath in the making, when you take it to the extreme level.

*************************************************************

JW has not said shahadah. I don't know what to do for him. He clings to his dunyawi ways, wants to go to Vegas for his milestone birthday coming up, wants to earn a living on some definitely haraam means. The hope in my heart was so sweet and I'm just sad. Would you exchange akhira for the ability to play poker for cash? Belief can't be forced.


**************************************************************


I was born Black and Female in the United States. Try as I may, I think my culturalization will follow me forever. When I stop and think about it, it's the little insinuations made over my lifetime, the whispers from shaitan and my background in the back of my mind- and then I'm mad about it.

Farhan is Palestinian and fair. Farhan is tall. Farhan is "hot" (my assistant's words, not mine. I was hoping he wasn't as handsome as I thought, but I'm getting to that.) This is pretty inconsequential as far as I'm concerned. That's how he is, right?

The whispers start in my mind. Why is he checking me out? Why me? Is he one of
those?, the ones who chase black girls for no good reason? Does he see my spirit, how much I rejoice in Islam, that I love kids, that I'm a bookworm, that I'm actually a little bit shy? Why me?

Then they continue. Nothing remarkable over here. He should be looking at Wilma, or Sima, they're Palestinian and beautiful. Otherwise, why would everyone tell me they're looking for an African American (never Black) brother for me?

InshaAllah, part II

assalamu alaikum,

Okay... so I had said, Ah, well. Marya wouldn't make it to halaqa. It's always a good time learning sooo much mashaAllah.

Still, y'all know I was not trying to miss halaqa on Sunday! I wanted to see if Farhan would make it a record-breaking 3 in a row.

And there I was, laid up with a fever. Feeling TERRIBLE.

So I made dua'a, something akin to, "Please send me down the path You choose, for Your sake.If I need to go, show me how. If I don't, make that the better way to me, amin."

My doctor and my sister had already fussed at me that I didn't need to be out of bed, and I didn't really want to go. I was feeling that bad.
But I didn't want to miss anything good, either. I finally had the new book we're reading at halaqa... and I was starting to be crush-a-licious, all right. Maybe this was a way of telling me to sit my butt down somewhere and chill out. It has happened before.

My fever came down a bit. And then I got up, went into my brother JW's room, and woke him up. "Come with me," I said, "In case I need you to drive because I don't feel good. It's just a movie with lunch at Bro. Leader's house, not the hardcore halaqa like usual." I'd've never been tempted to ask him before, but because he knew I'd been ill...

But JW has been stuck in ahem atheist opinion for some time now. He doesn't like "dealing with religious people", as he puts it; "God is a control mechanism." I've been trying to get him to talk to Bro. Leader or Nerd for a while and he always resists. I thought maybe he'd just enjoy the movie and being around young people. And maybe I really would let him drive the Pimp Car (tm) if I felt really really sick.

This time he got up, took a shower, and came with.

So, yay! I was feeling a bit better, and going to an easy halaqa, and JW was with me.

When we got there, the halaqa was watching an Ahmed Deedat movie, and he's slaying the guest speaker over "Cruci-FICTION" (I actually recommend finding that DVD if you can. It was great. Watching the Christian pastor skate around direct points presented to him every time he spoke. We laughed several times during what could've been a serious, heavy debate). We sat down, and I looked around...Marya hadn't made it. But lo and behold, sitting with the other brothers, Farhan was there.

I don't mean to blow this out of proportion, y'all. Everyone was focused on the movie and what we were supposed to be studying. It's not that I was exchanging burning glances with Farhan across the room. No. It was on the halal. I mean, my little brother and his little brothers were there, with about 7 other people. Including Bro. Leader, who is very very strict about interactions. Nah, it's just that this is very exciting for me. And he Kept Looking At Me. *grin*

At least now I know I wasn't imagining this, because when we got in the car for the first time, JW told me that he knew Farhan was the guy who kept looking at me (I told him to watch on that and see if I was trippin'). And he is like a hawk when it comes to his big sisters. Hmph.

Yes, I did say when we got into the car for the first time. Way to pay attention, you!

Okay, so Farhan and company left early because there was a basketball tournament at the masjid in Conservopolis they didn't want to miss. One of the sisters, the one who said, "You guys look JUST alike, that's amazing" pulled me aside and asked, "Is he (JW) muslim?" And I whispered back, "Not yet! I just want him to get used to the ideas here." Something inspired hope for the day.

JW and I left after the movie was finished. And as we leave, we're chatting, and JW begins with, "I still don't see how you can prove God is real." Ack! And just after we left the halaqa! I tried, I really did, to point out the signs of nature, and the reasons why I believed personally, but then I said, "Wait. I'm not equipped to really really answer your questions, because I don't know enough. But I bet Brother Leader can."

JW proceeded to protest. He doesn't really like to ask 'religious people' these questions. And Brother Leader probably didn't want to deal with him. I countered with the fact that he seemed perfectly fine with letting JW into his house without knowing him. Then I pulled out my phone. "I'm calling him," I said.

So we turned around, after Bro. Leader invited us back to his place to talk things out. I stuck around to hear the beginning of the discussion, about why the universe has to have God in order to hold it together. And the complexity of a single strand of DNA, much less any organized being. And how could any of the things we know come to be without a creator. They were off. Good grief, I'm glad I called Bro. Leader, because he's one of the few that could even keep up with JW's mind.

And then I grabbed (an excellent cup of) tea, and then sacked out on the really comfy couch in the formal-ish living room of their house while the kids played badminton in front of me. I was burning up again, so I took some meds, even as I was so excited. Maybe this would be the day my brother took shahada. I drifted off and one of Bro. Leader's awesome daughters covered me with a blanket and they tip-toed out of the room.


This is real life, and there's no ecstatically happy ending. JW didn't make shahada by the time I awakened... but I'm really praying on it. Maybe he will. I know that he and Bro. Leader talked that second time for a good three hours. JW has a lot to think about.

I know I ended up thinking about several things on the way home in the car, saying, "InshaAllah... inshaAllah..." Only if He Wills it. Regardless, I know I'm okay only with that.

peace,
Twenny Two

InshaAllah... part I

assalamu alaikum,

Hmm, not so productive a weekend for me. I woke on Saturday with ganas to get some MAJOR cleaning, weeding, and organizing done. Last week I planted some flowers- dahlias, petunias, impatiens, coleus, all red, and some stevia to go with the na'na' on the porch for tea- for my Mama while she was in South Carolina with my great-grandmother. I also started some loads of laundry that were sitting, folded and waiting to be put away. I also intended to rest a bit, since my preschoolers are going on a trip to the world-renowned Conservopolis Zoo at 8:30 AM Monday. (Man, don't those PM preschool parents just luurve me!)

Yeah so I was going to do all that and just started feeling terrible. Achy. And ended up flat in the bed for most of Saturday with a 102 fever. That's with medicine. I was a sick Twenny.

This wouldn't've been such a big deal except for: a) all that stuff I really really wanted to do above; b)the zoo trip coming c) halqa on Sunday.

I know I'm rambling! Yes, there is a story about someone learning more about Islam! Part of the story is getting you to the good parts. This is why I was bummed about missing halaqa:

See, I know I told y'all about the Native Deen concert in Conservopolis, but I left out some juicy things until I was sure they were worth mentioning.

While at this conference and concert, I was sitting next to the wife of my halaqa leader, May, on the aisle. Across the aisle from us were a girl who was familiar to me from some girls' parties at 'Eid last year. I'd met her a couple of times, she was nice, but her name escaped me for one reason or another. (She's Marya, by the way.) There was a man sitting on her immediate right. I've seen him at halqa like twice, total, at this point.

He keeps looking over at us.

At this particular point I know this brother is either peepin' me, or May. And everyone and their mama knows May is married to my halaqa leader. And she hasn't been any more outstanding than usual today. Maybe he's just debating whether to say hello. Maybe he's looking at me. Maybe. Or maybe someone behind us. Or maybe I'm trippin'. I figured I was trippin'. And, that if I saw ol' bro at halaqa the next day, maybe then I could start thinking he was looking my way.

And then I told myself not to be so conceited and went about enjoying the concert.

Next day, however, I get to halaqa at the masjid late (it was Mother's Day, so I'd been planting in the rain) and look who's the only person there waiting with our leader...yup, mystery brother. That was a surprise since he hadn't been at halqa in some time. I don't think I'd seen him there twice in a row before.
He's definitely LOOKING AT ME. This was disconcerting. He was sitting beside Bro. Leader and I kept catching him looking away as I looked up. Huh? Do I got toothpaste on my face or something?

Whatever, right?

Right.

So the next day there was an aqiqah for another notable family in the community and once again we're all there. I got to sit at the table with Marya and asked, "Who was that guy with you yesterday, your husband or uncle or brother?" She laughs when I say 'husband' and goes, "Nah, that's my big brother Farhan. Neither of us is married." Crucial info there.

Skip forward through a really tough week to Friday night gathering. Yay- Marya's there! If nothing else, I figure I've got a new friend, because we have a lot in common. We're both really tall. She's studying to be a nurse, and has a big family. We both speak Spanish, and she's spent some time in Germany as well. And we both love kids. This sister is just interesting, mashaAllah. It's so nice to find someone with similar interests who is close to my age here. We talked the whole night about everything from school to clothes to kids to careers, and I enjoyed her company.

But imagine what starts going though my brain when, after she says salaams and sits down with a plate of food, the first thing she says is, "So what's going on on the marriage front for you?" And when I say nothing much, she asks, "And what exactly are you looking for in a brother? Like, to marry?"

Word? It's like that? Now that's interesting.

So I invited Marya herself to the halaqa today, figuring I'd never seen her there, she'd enjoy it... etc. And she begs off by saying she has two exams on Monday- but she might decide to study really hard on Saturday, in order to make it on Sunday.

and then I end up sick with a fever! Of all the things to happen.

InshaAllah, khair, right? What Allah has decreed will happen, right?

I'm so happy about what did happen...y'all wouldn't believe it if I told you.

Or will you?

peace
TwennyTwo

Roundup

assalamu alaikum,

Okay, so if you read my last post you might be wondering what I've been doing with all this time I have on my hands. Besides being a magnet for 3 to 5 year old muslims. Or being a naughty counselor and egging people into dangerous things:



(What you don't hear on the video is me saying to Nerd (my crush) and company, "You should do it! George of the Jungle. No, Tarzan! Go do Tarzan!" and then sitting and watching events unfold. I'm an oldest kid like that. You can totally hear me saying 'Wow', though.)

Yeah. I've been reading. Y'all should check this out:

I love PostSecret. And the Mother's Day secrets are tugging at me. They'll only be there until next Sunday, so this link goes quick...

Brother Umar Lee is bringing it as usual with a post on one sister's experience in Metro PD custody. (Metro referring to Washington, DC for those who never lived or went to college there). There's a local citizen's meeting on May 14th, so if you live in the urrea you may want to check his post for more info.

The debate is still going at UmmZaid's spot over the Philly Germantown masjid's decision not to hold janaza for a brother who killed a police officer after having robbed a bank.
Also, I've been fascinated by her search for decent, plain jilbabs. But that's just me.

A very belated Mabrook! goes to Nzingha on her newest son, Umar. You can read up on what's happened since he came here.

I can't believe I'm not hearing more about what's happening in Lebanon. But the 60th anniversary of a certain oppressive occupation is everywhere you look, astaghfirullah.

Like many, the hullaballoo over whether or not aid was getting into Myanmar was making me sick. Looks like things are going now, according to the BBC. And of course I was watching to see how folk did in North Carolina and Indiana. Can I dare to start rooting for a candidate yet?

Yup. Been occupied.

peace,
TwennyTwo

Open. Your. Eyes.

Assalamu Alaikum,

Oh, man. Yesterday I needed someone to hold me back. I won't say what I did in the privacy of the teacher's lounge, because, well, it doesn't sound very nice. I hit a limit of fury yesterday. It's not good to feel that outdone at your place of employment.

Remember, I've said so many times that it's never the child who causes me problems. It's usually adults who won't act right.

Long story short, there's a female parent of a child who is causing problems because she's kicking up a fuss about her child.

Now, this is, at the root, what every parent wants to do. You all want your child to do well and you'll do what it takes to make that happen. You'll talk to the teachers and ask for extra work. You'll have him do that work, with a lot of help from you, under your very careful and watchful eye. You'll teach your child in the way of Allah. You'll help the child against herself when she needs it.

If this were that and only that, I could fully understand and bring the fullness of my patience to the situation. But it isn't. It's about this woman's refusal to see what her child does and how the child affects others. Like telling me you've enrolled your child in a pretty tough extra-curricular class and then telling me that you know your child, of course your child doesn't hit others. And of course, I should have a gentle and special way to have this child follow instructions, unlike the other children who obey me the first or even the second time I tell them something. Right. Just explain to me how out of 38 children how your child is the only one who is having accidents and being injured so, if your child never disobeys her teachers or hits and taunts the rougher kids until they snap. You seek that information, but when I tell you you don't see. Open your eyes!

I think another thing that bothers me is that there's another mother and another child who DO deserve help and the best of our resources, and I'm missing how both of these situations are being treated equally. And I'm sad that it probably means that neither of the children will be at our school next year. *sigh*. At least I'm not worried I won't be at the school next year.
I'm really sad for the first child I mentioned, because this child is so manipulative and sneaky that the child needs the boundaries that we provide. Really. Child A does so much better when we're firm but loving, that mother's insistence on being gentle and solicitous with this one child drives me wild- that isn't actually what will serve her child best, in my professional opinion. Anyway.

Yesterday we had about a half-hour meeting, and after that, I was through. I'm done. There are 26 school days left this year and I'm just going to work toward getting through all of them well, with smiling kids at the end. I'm also going to have to keep this child separated from certain others. Fine. You'll pay me to do that, it'll get done. And then I hope you go to another school, because that's the only way you'll learn exactly how your child is, and you'll learn to open your eyes.

And that's all I want to say about that.

In other news, I have no idea what I'm doing this summer, and May begins... tomorrow! My Master's application for the University of Conservopolis is due, um, tomorrow. Ask me if I've begun. No, don't. And gasoline is up to $3.65 a gallon here. A friend invited me to stay at her house five minutes from work, and at first I refused, until she made me accept (anyone else have Egyptian friends? I love her so much mashaAllah!), and then when I came out and saw how high gas was I was glad she beat me into it!

And... I think my last crush is off the potential marriage list. We'll see. He's going to Jordan for a year to learn Arabic starting this fall. I still think he's an awesome guy, but at the same time, this past weekend someone made me realize that um, I'm not unique in thinking that. His family is very well known, which I think is a big factor in that. And I want someone who wants me for me, not looking for an ideal social match. Not that he's said that or anything.

Off to work... make dua'a for me!

peace
TwennyTwo

Wants

assalamu alaikum,

I've been lost. I'm trekking my way back. Thanks for reading, really.

****

I tutor several students, off and on, at the middle school and high school levels. Incidentally, they're all boys- not sure why. That's probably just how the community is around here. I don't know nearly as many teenaged girls as I do boys here in Conservopolis. Girls, where are you?
irrelevant.

What I was going to say is that I've had all of these students go through an exercise to build their own goals. It's simple, really: you have someone ask, over and over again, "What do you want?" and write down EVERY answer. Then go through and weed out the things of the moment from the true goals.

Alhamdulillah, one student replied, "I want to go to Jennah alFirdous, inshaAllah, and be in the shade of Allah and the company of the Prophet on the last day." No kidding. A fourteen-year-old told me that (he wasn't trying to impress me).

And then I kept asking.
You want that? What else? What do you want along the way? When do you want it? How do you want it? How do you want to gain the pleasure of Allah (swt) inshaAllah?

All of the boys do this. Then I make them tape up their goals on a wall or mirror they'll see daily. And put dates on them (well, all but the goals like the one above. That one isn't one I hope to be able to put a time and date on). ANd then review them weekly and monthly and see them daily and determine not only what it is that they want from this life, but to see that they're the ones who determine how this gift of life is spent. Parents do a lot, but they have only so much to work with. Allah has granted us life. We've got to use it.

And yet I've gotten away from that myself.

How often is it that the teacher loses sight of the student for the knowledge? Today I went through and re-made my own goals.

It was humbling and amazing to see how I'm holding myself back from taking advantage. It's scary. *sigh*.

peace
TwennyTwo

Reflections

assalamu alaikum,

Yes, so I'm averaging about two posts a month this year. How far I've come. I'm writing through a splitting headache just now- otherwise I won't get a chance for a while. I've been "thinking" my posts for weeks now. By the time I get to sit down, they're all forgotten. Maybe I should go back to good'ol paper journaling for good. On the other hand, what I like about blogging is the ability to share, and get feedback on the thoughts I actually publish. I'm thinking about moving to wordpress, but only if and when I have time to actually do stuff with the blog and not just neglect it for weeks at a time. I dunno. We'll see.

The school was on spring break last week. I'd made a whole bunch of plans for what I'd do. Puh-leeze. I slept the first 6 days, ran around running errands on the seventh, and then on the last three went to St. Louis for the MSA Central Zone conference. The conference was good, but sparsely attended- even the campus where we were was on spring break, and half of the students who'd registered and paid to attend didn't show. I guess they were on break, too.

I enjoyed the trip. St. Louis was a nice city, not that I got to see much of it. I became really good friends with the women who went with us. I went with the University of Conservopolis MSA- and you know how they roll, girls in one car, guys in the other. So it was good to relax and just talk, read, and eat, learn about and from one another. More than half of us ended up, um, not praying during the trip. I don't know what that was about. But anyway, I genuinely liked every single one of the women with us, and that was a treat.

I'm up in the air on whether or not that was my last MSA trip. I'll have been out of undergrad five years (yikes!) this May. On one hand, I do feel, just a bit, that I should have outgrown the group. But on the other hand, I haven't. Maybe I'm attracted to groups that have either mature or even just likeable people. I'll go anywhere I can to learn a little more about Islam, add to the pieces of understanding and truth I've picked up since my shahada.

Too, we're Muslims, and that seemed to come first at this particular C-Zone conference.. East Zone conferences I've attended in the past have definitely had a bit of that "ISNA Saturday Night" feeling, and I was able to just gravitate toward the actual learning portions of the conference. EZ definitely was more meat market, more "foo foo", appearance based, and um... young, as in immature. There were way more people there, too.
This conference really didn't have much of that. The people there seemed for the most part to be actually focused on living as Muslims, day in and day out, in our communities and in this country. The speakers were all actual imams, sheikhs, learned individuals. I'm trying to think if even one was a woman... I don't think any of the main speakers were female. Not that that bothers me. I'm just sayin'.

As an MSA conference, of course there were like 4 main areas under which all of the lectures and breakout sessions seemed to fall: How to Live Like a Muslim, Bringing Islam to American Communities, The Cultural Gap Between Backhomelandia (ht to Umm Zaid)and the USA, and, ever-present, Gettin' Hitched and Otherwise Keepin it Halal Around The Other Gender.

Oh, which reminds me what I wanted to say about that.

I forget that I'm a convert sometimes. When I'm allowed to. When it's just me and my rug and my Lord. When I'm going about my business. When I'm living a life carefully groomed toward ever more taqwa and ibadah (worship) inshaAllah. That aspect of my Islam is not one I've decided to keep on the outside as part of my identity. I'm Muslim. It's annoying sometimes to go through the 20 questions with every Muslim I meet and after I answer, "My parents are from Alabama", I get the, Oh, MashaAllah, A Convert How and Why Did/Do You Do It? speech. (Not sure why I'm capitalizing everything in sight. Bear with me.)

However, because I am a convert, there are certain things that I see that are particular to being a new Muslim especially in the US. My feeling is that while converts may be a small portion of the world's Muslims, we're a big fount of increase in Muslim numbers. We're not an ignorable minority, because many converts still have social currency in the sections of society they belonged to before Islam. Which means, if a convert radiates contentment and joy even during the hard times after conversion, then there's more opportunity for more dawah as people who know this person see that in them. On the other hand, all of us have heard of the convert who was truly a convert but was disillusioned in Islam and turned away, complaining bitterly to the people to whom they've returned. If nothing else, attention needs to be paid to this group, just little touches that make converts feel able to integrate smoothly from where they are to the Muslims Allah wants them to be. That sounds idealistic, but that's how I feel.

And yet, especially when it comes to things like MSA conferences, aspects that would especially apply to converts are repeatedly ignored. And when they're brought up, they're brushed off or treated as side notes. It's frustrating. The particular thread that comes to mind is (of course) one of the breakout sessions that was about marriage and how to actually approach the other person blah blah blah. I hope y'all get the gist. Just as last year, I brought up the question of what the speakers (fortunately great speakers and pretty knowlegeable, I thought) would tell a convert or even a student from a not-so-practising Muslim family whose parents aren't able or don't want to help him/her get married. And the silence was big. It was as if these guys hadn't even ever considered the possibility that that could even happen.

Of course, they answered the question. The response was (I wish I had my notes with me) something like, 'they should ask friends or someone they can trust, or even get their parents to help them. Their parents should want to help them since they love them. Since yes, mashaAllah there's an ever larger number of people coming to Islam through our college campuses we should be open to this possibility."

Sigh. Discuss. I've gotta go. InshaAllah when I get back to the computer I'll talk more about that--- and the fact that the man I've had my eye on was on this trip. Heh Heh Heh. Yay cliffhangers!

peace
TwennyTwo

Wa tawasil bis Sabr, aaameeen

peace,

One of my tutees (what is the word for that? And how come I don't know as a tutor? mercy. Anyway) just taught me Surat al Asr. Being the teacher I am I immediately taught it to my preschool (those who didn't know it). And I'd been upset because his family asked me for half my usual rate- but look what I got in return! I've been wanting to learn for so long now that I'll take what I can when I can and then spread the love. And boy has that particular reminding surah come in handy lately.

That's a great lesson in patience for me. Things have been more or less worked out here at the school. My assistant won't be with me next year, it looks like- she'll be in a room with a teacher she likes who will teach her new things. That's good. I'm glad she got at least something she wanted. I wish I didn't perceive this sour attitude from her about it. She doesn't like my teaching style at all. *sigh*. I'm trying to be good so I won't say anything else about it. I've decided to return to portareeco this summer if only to finish the education program and get my Conservopolis State teaching license so people can't jerk me around like this.

Meanwhile, my brother is off his meds again. It's a real catch-22. If he's at school, he's less likely to take the meds, always stressed, around the wrong influences, and more likely to have a mental break. If he's not in school at least half-time, my parents' insurance won't cover him, so he won't have the meds to take, even though he won't be in an environment so conducive to mental breaks. He needs the insurance. The bills for his hospital stay were nearly forty thousand dollars. So he needs to be in school (or get a job, yeah right). But school is what stressed him in the first place. Sabr. Prayer. Patience. Yeah.

I voted today! Independent, of course. So booyah, primary hype! I didn't vote for a candidate at all!

I've got the spectre of a surprise inspection hanging over me. Gotta go do lesson plans.

peace
TwennyTwo

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

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'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

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