"Do you want to kill us?"
It's a question I get a lot. I'm a Muslim Somali American living in St. Cloud, Minn. My family of 10 emigrated here in November 1993, and I became American by the old-school system called assimilation. It's challenging in places like St. Cloud, a Catholic town that's earned the nickname White Cloud because of its demographic make-up.
In recent years, though, the city's demographics have begun to shift. Between 2009 and 2014, our small African American population doubled. Our Latino population grew by about 50 percent. St. Cloud has been adjusting to this change, but it hasn't gone so well. I've watched as residents throw temper tantrums about people like me, about parents who want to make a better life for their children.
Around my neighborhood white people post signs that read, "This is America, and we have a right to offend everyone. Don't like it, too bad" and "Get prayers out of school." There are organized groups that call for a limit on the number of legal refugees allowed to live here. My Somali Muslim friends have confided in me about rental discrimination, customer service discrimination, public school discrimination and employee discrimination.
Once, during a panel discussion on Islamophobia, a couple approached me."Your people have crowded America," the wife told me. "You live for free, eat free, and all you do is take ... from people like my husband and I. You bring your culture and your religion and want to take over. No more. We're tired. We just want America back." Her docile husband nodded in agreement. Afraid to further her hurt, I listened and apologized. As they walked away, the husband left me with a last thought: "You're OK. You're an American. You speak English."
In this lack of enthusiasm for diversity, I saw an opportunity. I saw a platform for people like me to educate. So for the last six years I've been traveling around the city, giving talks about my faith. I hope to humanize Islam, Somalia, refugees and others who are different to privileged, white Americans. I, a Muslim Somali American refugee educator, need acceptance in order for me and my people to flourish.
At one recent gathering I sat on a panel vulnerably facing more than 100 inquisitive residents. I was handed a handful of anonymous questions. Aware of my inferiority in age, wisdom and religion, I managed to keep a steady smile as I choose my poison: Who is Allah? How is Allah God? Do you feel oppressed? How do you pray? Why do you wear the veil in America?
A particular question pulls me in: Who is Allah? I ruminate. Allah is God, Allah is Yaweh. Islam's holy text is the Koran. The Koran is written in classical Arabic. Like the Bible and Torah, it has been translated to fit the modern times. As a result, Allah, Yaweh and God are all the creator of mankind. I pray to God, Yaweh and Allah. Same difference.
I worry, though, that this explanation won't really address the fear baked into a lot of these assumptions. So I decide to go with a more controversial point: Do you want to kill us? It's a question I've heard a lot over this election season, a fear perpetuated by the way Donald Trump has been campaigning. Trump has scorned Obama for not using "radical Islamic terrorism" to describe the Islamic State. He believes Islam, a religion of over a billion followers, is ISIS. He's sold that message all over the country.
As I consider how to answer, I think about my language. Somali is tonal. It's taught me that in life, sometimes it's not what you say but how you say it. I recall this lesson in my answer to the inquisitive audience. Reiterate the question: Do I, a Muslim, want to kill you? Respond: "Absolutely not. My faith states ... if any one killed a person, it would be as if he killed the whole mankind ... (Koran 5:32). Ladies and gentleman, Islam teaches me discipline through prayer, fasting, and peace. Violence is never an option or thought for practicing Muslims."
A sigh of relief fills the room. Suddenly I appear more human.
Editorial on 12/04/2016