To My (Possible) Future Daughter,

Back in the good old days when I was about your age, they would say that individuality is one of the most important factors of your life. But when I was growing up, that's not how I felt at all. My mindset was: it doesn’t matter what you wear, how you speak, or who you hang out with because in the end, passing judgment is a normal, natural, and often unconscious human act. I’m hoping that by the time you read this, people will be more open-minded and accepting of the different individuals they come across. But in case things possibly get worse, I want to explain what I dealt with while growing up. I want you to be stronger than I was; I don’t want you crying into your pillow every night, feeling sorry for yourself, or walking with your head down. I want you to be humble, yet proud of all the things you’re going to accomplish and where you come from. If I can make that happen, I’ll truly be able to call myself the best mother in the world.

After Kindergarten, grandma, grandpa, your two uncles, and I temporarily moved to Iran. Grandma’s dad had liver cancer and we wanted to spend his last few years by his side. When I turned 8 years old, your grandmother told me that I had reached the age to start wearing my scarf. I was so excited to know that I was going to represent something important. At the time, it felt like my Hijab was something so sacred in our family, and that made me proud to be Persian. I started fasting, praying, going to the mosque, and fulfilling the deeds of “a good Muslim” after I turned 9 years old. At the same time, your great grandfather passed away, and after a few months of mourning and adjusting to the changes in our lives, we moved back to America. This is when my life changed forever. This is why I am the woman I am today.

After we moved back to the U.S., I resumed my everyday life as it was two years before that. I went to school with the same “friends,” music room, art room, gymnasium, and cafeteria. In my mind, everything should've been back to normal. Only one thing had really changed, and that was me. I was no longer wearing the short pink skirt with a pretty, sparkly bow on my head. I wore a white scarf with red flowers on it, long jeans, and a sweatshirt. I don't think I'll ever forget my old friends’ faces as they stared at me. “Elhaam? You’re back? What’s that on your head?” they asked. At first I didn't realize this, but trying to explain Islamic concepts to a group of 10 year olds wasn’t exactly the easiest task. I thought my best friends would be excited to see me and to know that we were going to see each other every day at school. I truly was convinced that I was still the same girl, and that the only thing that was different was that I had a scarf on my head. But much to my surprise, not only did I no longer have a group of friends, but I was also teased, taunted, and embarrassed by the boys and girls around me. I soon learned why life as I knew it was about to change.

I came back to America after a tough, emotional turmoil. September 11, 2001: this is the day that Al Qaeda’s terrorists attacked the World Trade Centers in NYC and took away thousands of lives and left families utterly heartbroken. You will probably study all about this in your history classes, but this tragic event affected me more than most people know. The amount of times I was called a killer or a terrorist is unfathomable. I can still recall when a boy tugged off my scarf one day. I was certain that I wasn't the only Hijab-wearing girl in the U.S., so did this mean that thousands of Muslims were going through the same thing that I was?

Everyone was just so angry and perplexed by the inhuman attack that they put a general stereotype against Muslims. Despite this situation, I didn’t take my scarf off because I wanted to follow my own lifestyle and thought that eventually, I would find happiness. However, as I grew older, the comments began to change. I would open up my locker to find notes telling me to kill myself and that I was worthless. I hated myself, I hated the situation, and I hated life. Sometimes I feel like I had the ability to take away years of misery and obtain acceptance if I just took off my scarf, but I chose not to, and I eventually became a self-conscious, introverted girl. In high school, though, I found some people that loved me for me. They didn’t think my scarf made me any different from them. Feeling love from my friends started making me comfortable in my own skin again. There would be the occasional negative comments about Islam or certain discussions that I felt uncomfortable participating in, but for the most part, I felt okay. I still can't help but think that it would’ve been so easy to just take off my scarf and be a “normal” teenager. Then again, what really is normal?

My religion did start off as an expected part of life. But as I got older, I looked more into religion and found that the moral of all Abrahamic religions is basically the same. Obviously they all follow different lifestyles, but the basics of the religions seemed intertwined. I'm sure you ready know that now, I’m not a very conservative person, but a person who appreciates culture, family, and love.

My biggest wish for you to be a blissfully happy girl that knows what she wants and doesn’t settle for less. I need you to understand that I’m never going to force you into believing something that you don’t believe in. I don’t want you to have a fabricated lifestyle – I just want you to be honest and open about your thoughts and beliefs. In the same way that I respect your lifestyle, I want you to respect everyone else's thoughts and beliefs as well. Don’t make assumptions based on stereotypes and generalizations. Don't let someone's skin color, occupation, or religion interfere with how you value them as a human being. The only thing you can do to make me a proud mother is not to be a great human being, just try to be a humane being. Be yourself, follow your heart, and stay true to your beliefs. Oh, and one more thing. Don’t let toxic people interfere with the choices you make, because the truth is that this is your life, and the most important thing is that you are genuinely happy and content.