I didn't grow up in the Muhammad Ali era. I'm not a product of that time, I am a product of a post-9/11 era. But Ali's effect on my life is stronger than any knockout punch he can give. And that says a lot.

I remember being introduced to him two years after 9/11. The hatred toward Muslims was rising and I was more confused than ever. I remember asking every adult around me "Did we do something wrong? Why are we hated? Are we bad people?" I was reassured that we weren't, but every image of us that flashed across the televisions screens depicted us as "villains," "the veiled evils," "the terrorists," "the threats to our freedom" as President Bush always called it. That was what we became synonymous with, and I and every other Muslim around the world became guilty by association.

It wasn't until I was introduced to Ali videos that I saw something else. I watched him fight, I watched him speak, I watched how he carried himself and I was left in awe. I saw a fighter, a hero, a poet, a rebel, a man who roared as loud as lions, a CHAMPION. I was awestruck as he thanked Allah after every fight and name dropped him in every interview. "He prays to the same God as me?" I asked. "He's one of us?" I was reassured that yes, this world champion, this man hailed a hero around the world is in fact one of us, and he is one of the good guys. I couldn't believe it. We actually had someone, a representation of who we really are. It was a valuable discovery I made at such a crucial time.

As time passed, the hatred to Muslims no longer confused me, but turned into anger. The ignorant comments around me got worse, the media attacks affected people around me and I began to crack under pressure. I no longer wanted to identify as Muslim, I was angry my last name gave me away so easily. And then I stumbled upon Ali once again. One of my turning points in my life was seeing the photo of him holding a newspaper that said "Allah Is The Greatest."

Here I was trying to cower away from what I am, and Ali stood tall in his beliefs using every breath he had to remind people of where his faith lies. I once again sat through a reel of videos of him. This time older and more wiser. I let his words sink into my heart and talk me out of running away from who I was. I sat there as his loud and confident voice filled my ears. Every syllable hitting my heart, every word rewiring my brain and erasing all the distorted images the media fed me about who I was. I felt the tears well up in my eyes as he said

I know where I'm going and I know the truth, and I don't have to be what you want me to be. I'm free to be what I want.

I repeated it back to myself over and over, preparing to say it to anyone who dared question my beliefs. I took note of his confidence, his defiance of submission, his poetry style speaking, his quick wit. Ali spoke like he boxed. Quick, mean and strong. As I got older Ali became my motivational speaker, I sought him whenever I got beat down. I searched for him whenever my confidence was knocked down like his opponents. I ran to him for more knowledge when no one else gave me the answers. I learned from him what a champion was, not in the boxing ring, but in the ring of life.

My opponent in life was ignorance, the hatred people had of my very being. And Ali taught me how to fight back. Yes, their words were strong, but Ali's was more lethal. When they called him arrogant, a believer in evil, a traitor, he hailed himself The Greatest, earned himself the title of World Champion and lectured them on tolerance. He never let anyone dent his confidence. It was made of steel. He never let anyone push him out of his beliefs. He stool tall in his words and actions. When they threatened him, black listed him, jailed him, he spoke louder, fought back harder. When they stripped him of his titles, he came back and won more. When hounded with death threats he stood taller and walked the streets without a body guard. Proclaiming Allah was his bodyguard. Learning about him, was like discovering a real life superhero. As a child and now in adulthood, Muhammad Ali is my superhero. Muhammad Ali was my Western Muslim icon in a world where there wasn't any. My full name is Layla Ali Abdeljabbar. I remember family members and teachers calling me Layla Ali and joking that I was his daughter. I recall holding my head a little higher with pride. He wasn't my father, but after my father's death he became one because he reminded me so much of own.

Representation is so important, and unfortunately for Muslims we don't have the platform and can't trust the media to show accurate depictions of us. Muhammad Ali was always the loud voice for us. He was forever challenging ignorance with his unwavering confidence and spoke with such conviction. He showed Muslims in the best and brightest light available. I can't stress enough how much he affected my life and changed me for the better.

Ali once said "I wanted to use my fame and this face that everyone knows so well to help uplift and inspire people around the world." And he did. He inspired and uplifted me by igniting a fire within me, to fight against ignorance wherever I go. He uplifts me whenever hatred threatens to knock me down. I am forever grateful for that.

Rest easy Champ.