"Allahu Akbar." In American society, I've heard this phrase used in two ways: first, to mimic terrorists of Middle Eastern origin, and second, a call to prayer. Sadly, I'm not sure whether it's the former or the latter that I've heard more frequently. The juxtaposition between the two is incomprehensible. How can such a beautiful phrase, that translates literally to "God is the greatest," be used as a catchphrase for mockery, contempt, and humiliation? The essence of the phrase is something many can relate to, but it is those same people who feel at ease using the phrase as the butt of their jokes. Could you imagine someone taking a holy line out of the Bible to make light of some sin? It simply wouldn't happen. So where has this lack of respect and understanding stemmed from?

On September 11, 2001, the unthinkable happened. The Twin Towers in New York City were mercilessly attacked by a group of Islamic terrorists who were part of the terrorist organization Al-Qaeda. The attack crippled the country, as it targeted buildings that were our country's beacons of success, power, and freedom. After the towers fell and our country reeled from devastation, we needed someone to blame. Something needed to be done. What ensued was a manifestation of growing and deep-seated prejudices.

If we want to face the identity of our country with honesty, we must admit that our country has hinged its success on racist ideals. Prior to slavery, the United States was an average-level country in economic terms that seized its land through a harsh genocide. After 245 years of enslaved labor, the United States emerged a superpower. These biases are still engrained in the actions and ideals of our nation. For people to think that racism in our society does not exist, they are doing their fellow citizens an ignorant injustice. We are a land that harbors discrimination. We can see it in the media with ongoing incidents involving racially charged violence. And we can see it in the discrimination and hatred that surrounds Islam and Muslim Americans.

After 2001, being a Muslim in the United States meant being under added scrutiny. Muslims have become a cadre for social and political pundits, a scapegoat for deeply engrained political prejudices, and a punching bag for ignorant criticism. The statistics that pertain to American views on Islam are as follows: four out of ten Americans view Islam unfavorably; nearly 50 percent of Americans think Islam promotes violence amongst its believers; nearly 50 percent believe that civil liberties should be curtailed for Muslim citizens; and 63 percent of discriminatory cases reported were by a "Muslim" name, or a person of that ethnicity or background, according to a Pew Research poll) The statistics go on and on, but the picture of Muslims in American society has been painted. The manifestation of growing and deep-seated prejudices is alive and growing.

I can attest to this. When I was younger, I subconsciously identified this discrimination in the airports, where a domestic flight check-in that should routinely take less than an hour becomes extended to three times the length. I felt it in school when a girl told others in my class that prior to meeting me, she was terrified of who I was and what I might do to her. I felt it when I felt ashamed of my culture when I never should have been. And I still feel it.

I feel it when my friends make terrorist jokes. They don't hurt, but they still serve as a marker of what I look like and where I come from. I still feel it when I tell people I am pre-med and realize that I am just one of the many other Pakistani immigrants going down the all-too familiar path to prove themselves. I feel it when I listen to the news and see a nation banding together to infiltrate and change regions of the world that they see as threatening. I feel it when I realize that I have not been back to my home country in nearly ten years. But most importantly, I feel the prejudice because when I was ashamed and uncomfortable with my background, I actively chose to reject it.

When I was young, I cared more about what people thought. I did not cultivate my own opinions or thoughts. Why would I want to hang out with people from my own culture and background when it seemed that everyone around me rejected them? It is a sad and sobering truth that I am only now coming to face. It was a consequence of the world I lived in, the times I lived in, and the people that surrounded me. My development is nothing to be ashamed about. I am proud of the person I have become and how I was raised. I may have rejected my culture in my youth, but I still have the opportunity to learn more about the life and culture my parents grew up in. And I still have the opportunity to try and change the caustic environment regarding Muslim-Americans in the United States.

Islam is a religion of peace and love. The religion, at its core, follows the tenets of treating everyone as your neighbor, to give charity, and to pray and have faith. These are ideals that almost every religion follows, but for Islam, they tend to be overshadowed and overlooked. Furthermore, it is the notion of spreading goodwill and faith that is taken out of context. Many people assume that Muslims want to spread their religion across the world, but in actuality, it is their kindness and love that is meant to be shared.

Furthermore, all religions are subject to the perception of man. All religions have people that are bad and good. Islam is a religion of 1.5 billion people. If the religion truly promoted violence and hatred, then the world would actually have a problem with Islam. The world does not have a problem with Islam, and it does not have a problem with Muslims -- the world has a problem with extremists who are fueled by contempt and hatred. Many of issues that drive extremist actions are political, not religious. The fact that members of Al-Qaeda and ISIS affiliate themselves with religion is infuriating. But it is even more saddening that people around the world believe the mirage they have created. When people are able to justify killing others in the name of a religion, they inherently cannot belong to that religion because they violate the main tenets that religion preaches. They are no longer Muslims. They are no longer followers of religion and faith.

I was raised a Muslim. I grew up in the culture. I read the Quran and I prayed. Though I may not follow the religion anymore, I choose not to do so because I am a college student and I feel the need to radically challenge everything in my life. I don't necessarily know what I am or what I believe in, and I am more than okay with that. Life and spirituality, for me, are an ever-changing endeavor, and it is knowledge and experience that I seek to help formulate my beliefs. That being said, I truly think indulgence in Islam has made me a better person. It made me kinder, more compassionate, and more loving. It made me different, which has prepared me for adversity of all kinds. It has given me the background and exposure to write an article such as this one to stand up for a group of people who are marginalized and often times hated for their thoughts and beliefs. If you consider yourself a good human being, reach out to your fellow Muslim brothers and sisters. Get to know their views on life.

Do not be afraid of their Hijabs or shaggy beards. Do not assume they are unwilling to share information with you about their religion. Become a seeker of knowledge. With knowledge, we shed ignorance. And shedding our ignorance removes the prejudices that exist in our society. It is with these small steps that allow us to make strides in diminishing discrimination in our country. It is through education and awareness that we can strengthen our relations in the "terror regions" of the world. If we are truly patriots, we will strive to make our country better. So do your country a favor and don't ostracize other citizens that are not like yourself. Regard them as your equal and, more importantly, regard them as your fellow Americans.