Hi, nice to meet ya :)
Adapted from a Facebook note I composed in July:
Adapted from a Facebook note I composed in July:
We sat at our desks, side by side, amidst paperback classics and quotes from famous names scribbled across the whiteboard. Posters were hung along the west wall of the classroom with faces on wallet-sized prints, faces that gazed at us throughout the year as a constant reminder that we’d, too, be leaving this class and this building in June, ready (or maybe not) to open the next chapter of our lives. It seems like the epitome of clichés: Life is a novel containing a beginning, middle, and end wherein we, the protagonists, find ourselves shaped by setting and touched by characters and situations.
Although we laugh at such ideas, we soon realize that they hold some truth. During the last week of my senior year of high school, I listened as my AP Lit teacher described the summer prior to college. She advised us to enjoy these months, saying that we’d never again have a summer of this kind and with this amount of freedom, a relaxing summer spent with friends in the place we called home. In a sense, I now see that time period as the binding that delicately separates childhood chapters from those of adulthood.
Some things change as you transition from high school to college; others remain the same. Many of us have experienced this phenomenon, and I’d like to share mine briefly with you. Some of you already know about an important decision I’ve made, but for those of you with whom I haven’t had the chance to talk, I apologize for telling you via an informal Facebook note. This has been a very personal journey for me, and I’m being honest when I say that it took courage even to tell the friends I’ve loved and known since elementary or middle school.
After going away to college, a lot of us lost touch temporarily as we settled in and adjusted to the changes (some of you, of course, I had the opportunity to meet while away at school). We were all busy then and still are now, and religion was not exactly the first topic of conversation that came to mind. As I progressed through high school, I started feeling disconnected from my church – the same Roman Catholic house of worship at which I had been baptized and attended my whole life. Specifically as a junior, I felt out of touch with the community and with Christianity, though my family was practicing, and I’d gone to church practically every week since my birth. Never once did I not love or believe in God or stray from religion itself; I just began to seriously think about my beliefs for the first time. When you’re raised a certain way, you tend to accept the things your family does and the ideas your parents teach you. As a child, you’re unable to really think for yourself when it comes to genuine life decisions. With time, you become capable of considering abstract thoughts and of rationalizing. Teenagers might embrace what they’ve learned, confident that they believe the same things. Some might completely rebel, perhaps to spite their parents. Others will fall somewhere in between, giving and taking until they find what they’re really looking for. That’s how life is. You’re presented with a situation that’s out of your control, and then it’s up to you to make choices and to react.
To make a long story short(er), I was in between. I had never questioned anything because, why would I? That’s how I had been raised. But a few friendships and a closer look at world religions sparked something in me – something that began as curiosity and ended with a decision to convert to Islam. The first time I truly considered changing my religion was during the summer of 2008, so while this may seem very new to some of my friends, it’s been an ongoing process for a few years now. I kept a lot of it to myself because I didn’t have the words to express what I was going through. I didn’t want to make people uncomfortable or simply confuse them with some jumbled and convoluted speech about my personal life. It was never an issue of trust. I’ve been so fortunate to have great people in my life. But I didn’t know what to say or how to say it. At times, I wouldn’t have even known why I was saying it. I was lost in the beginning stages of soul-searching, and I needed time to figure out why I wanted this sort of change.
The decision was made during the spring of my last year of high school. I researched and read books, took notes and asked questions, learning as much as I could about Islam. It was the right thing for me to do. Many people convert once they’ve become interested in the faith and decided they agree with the core beliefs; then, as a new Muslim, they start learning about the Islamic lifestyle and what it really means. It can be a stressful and haphazard process, and I wanted to go about it differently. I chose to keep my training wheels on for a while, rather than go for my first ride only to fall to the ground countless times. Without making my conversion official, I began to identify more with Islam while continuing to educate myself on the religion. If I planned to make a major life change, I wanted to make sure it felt right. I also wanted to be honest with loved ones. I didn’t want to come home one day and announce to my family that, hey, by the way, I just changed my life without telling any of you. So throughout the summer, I awkwardly attended Mass with my mom each Sunday and struggled in my seat at the kitchen table every time she voiced her desire for me to go to church and get involved in a Catholic organization on campus. I was finally able to tell some of my friends the truth, but the bulk of my stress remained as I kept it a secret from my parents. In the end, I moved in at Michigan State without telling them.
Things became both easier and more difficult once I was at school. It was easier to be true to myself because I was meeting new people and could explain my odd religious dilemma from the start. I didn’t have to deal with people who had known me before, with their reactions and judgments. At the same time, I knew I had to tell my parents – especially my mom, an open-minded but devout Catholic who holds a secretarial position at our church. Every college student must adjust to things such as classwork and new-found independence; I had to deal with my religious secret in addition to these normal stressors. I suffered from a lot of anxiety in the fall, most of which I kept to myself, and talking to my mom in late October finally jumpstarted the healing process for my broken spirit. Everything gradually improved as I convinced her that this was my decision, perhaps connected to interactions I’d had, but certainly not the result of some cause-and-effect relationship.
I had hoped to take my shahadah (declaration of faith) this summer before returning to school, and I plan to officially embrace Islam this month. With any choice, there are changes attached. I’ll be praying several times a day for five to ten minutes at a time and fasting during the month of Ramadan, and I won’t consume pork or alcohol. When people first think of Islam, restrictions and prohibitions come to mind. But what they see is only the surface; everything has a deeper meaning behind it. In the Qur’an, God says that there is some good in alcohol, but the harm often outweighs the benefit (poor judgment, drunk driving, health problems and addiction), and that is why Muslims are not to drink. Many college students choose to drink, and I respect their personal decisions. I may not always engage in the same activities as my friends, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about them or respect them.
Open-mindedness has always been something of value to me. It’s why I get frustrated with certain comments people make and why I’m saddened by the general lack of willingness to understand and learn about others. Some aren’t exposed to the resources, but when those who are choose to remain ignorant and to hate people who are different from them, it’s utterly disappointing. Along with my psych degree, I’ve decided to pursue a minor in religious studies and to continue my involvement in Campus Interfaith Council, one of the student organizations I joined as a freshman. I was elected the Community Service Chair for the 2010-2011 year, and I’m genuinely excited about my leadership position. It isn’t just about adding another detail to a résumé; it’s about meeting a diverse group of people and working together to promote coexistence. It’s something I’m very passionate about because of my own life and values. Whether it’s religion or anything else, diversity exists, and that’s not a bad thing. As a matter of fact, to me, it’s a beautiful thing.
I see the way Islam is portrayed in the media, and I understand that many Americans believe terrorism and oppression are synonymous with this faith and defining qualities of its followers. The only thing I can hope for is that people learn about Islam from educated Muslims or books and other legitimate sources – not by scrolling through random websites or taking everything reported on the news at face value. If nothing else, there’s just one thing I wish for you to take away from reading this: I’m always going to be me – no matter what changes come about. My most intense worrying has revolved around the idea that people I know and care about won’t accept this change or won’t treat me the same way they did before. I realize now that I could have saved myself a lot of mental stress had I focused more on my own peace and happiness, rather than the fear of disappointing others. Some converts adopt Arabic names and attempt to fully re-establish their identity. But that’s something I could never do. I’m not converting in an effort to wipe away the past.
I’m Erin, and I always will be. I’m still a dork. I still work way too hard in school. I still love to laugh. I still love music – listening to it and playing it. I still love my family and friends. And ice cream. I still want to travel the world. I don’t regret the years of dance and piano, of track and newspaper, of my friendships and memories with all of you. I may be ready to open another chapter, but that doesn’t mean I’ll forget the past. Even if the pages are worn and torn and the font faded, the story wouldn’t be complete without them.
Although we laugh at such ideas, we soon realize that they hold some truth. During the last week of my senior year of high school, I listened as my AP Lit teacher described the summer prior to college. She advised us to enjoy these months, saying that we’d never again have a summer of this kind and with this amount of freedom, a relaxing summer spent with friends in the place we called home. In a sense, I now see that time period as the binding that delicately separates childhood chapters from those of adulthood.
Some things change as you transition from high school to college; others remain the same. Many of us have experienced this phenomenon, and I’d like to share mine briefly with you. Some of you already know about an important decision I’ve made, but for those of you with whom I haven’t had the chance to talk, I apologize for telling you via an informal Facebook note. This has been a very personal journey for me, and I’m being honest when I say that it took courage even to tell the friends I’ve loved and known since elementary or middle school.
After going away to college, a lot of us lost touch temporarily as we settled in and adjusted to the changes (some of you, of course, I had the opportunity to meet while away at school). We were all busy then and still are now, and religion was not exactly the first topic of conversation that came to mind. As I progressed through high school, I started feeling disconnected from my church – the same Roman Catholic house of worship at which I had been baptized and attended my whole life. Specifically as a junior, I felt out of touch with the community and with Christianity, though my family was practicing, and I’d gone to church practically every week since my birth. Never once did I not love or believe in God or stray from religion itself; I just began to seriously think about my beliefs for the first time. When you’re raised a certain way, you tend to accept the things your family does and the ideas your parents teach you. As a child, you’re unable to really think for yourself when it comes to genuine life decisions. With time, you become capable of considering abstract thoughts and of rationalizing. Teenagers might embrace what they’ve learned, confident that they believe the same things. Some might completely rebel, perhaps to spite their parents. Others will fall somewhere in between, giving and taking until they find what they’re really looking for. That’s how life is. You’re presented with a situation that’s out of your control, and then it’s up to you to make choices and to react.
To make a long story short(er), I was in between. I had never questioned anything because, why would I? That’s how I had been raised. But a few friendships and a closer look at world religions sparked something in me – something that began as curiosity and ended with a decision to convert to Islam. The first time I truly considered changing my religion was during the summer of 2008, so while this may seem very new to some of my friends, it’s been an ongoing process for a few years now. I kept a lot of it to myself because I didn’t have the words to express what I was going through. I didn’t want to make people uncomfortable or simply confuse them with some jumbled and convoluted speech about my personal life. It was never an issue of trust. I’ve been so fortunate to have great people in my life. But I didn’t know what to say or how to say it. At times, I wouldn’t have even known why I was saying it. I was lost in the beginning stages of soul-searching, and I needed time to figure out why I wanted this sort of change.
The decision was made during the spring of my last year of high school. I researched and read books, took notes and asked questions, learning as much as I could about Islam. It was the right thing for me to do. Many people convert once they’ve become interested in the faith and decided they agree with the core beliefs; then, as a new Muslim, they start learning about the Islamic lifestyle and what it really means. It can be a stressful and haphazard process, and I wanted to go about it differently. I chose to keep my training wheels on for a while, rather than go for my first ride only to fall to the ground countless times. Without making my conversion official, I began to identify more with Islam while continuing to educate myself on the religion. If I planned to make a major life change, I wanted to make sure it felt right. I also wanted to be honest with loved ones. I didn’t want to come home one day and announce to my family that, hey, by the way, I just changed my life without telling any of you. So throughout the summer, I awkwardly attended Mass with my mom each Sunday and struggled in my seat at the kitchen table every time she voiced her desire for me to go to church and get involved in a Catholic organization on campus. I was finally able to tell some of my friends the truth, but the bulk of my stress remained as I kept it a secret from my parents. In the end, I moved in at Michigan State without telling them.
Things became both easier and more difficult once I was at school. It was easier to be true to myself because I was meeting new people and could explain my odd religious dilemma from the start. I didn’t have to deal with people who had known me before, with their reactions and judgments. At the same time, I knew I had to tell my parents – especially my mom, an open-minded but devout Catholic who holds a secretarial position at our church. Every college student must adjust to things such as classwork and new-found independence; I had to deal with my religious secret in addition to these normal stressors. I suffered from a lot of anxiety in the fall, most of which I kept to myself, and talking to my mom in late October finally jumpstarted the healing process for my broken spirit. Everything gradually improved as I convinced her that this was my decision, perhaps connected to interactions I’d had, but certainly not the result of some cause-and-effect relationship.
I had hoped to take my shahadah (declaration of faith) this summer before returning to school, and I plan to officially embrace Islam this month. With any choice, there are changes attached. I’ll be praying several times a day for five to ten minutes at a time and fasting during the month of Ramadan, and I won’t consume pork or alcohol. When people first think of Islam, restrictions and prohibitions come to mind. But what they see is only the surface; everything has a deeper meaning behind it. In the Qur’an, God says that there is some good in alcohol, but the harm often outweighs the benefit (poor judgment, drunk driving, health problems and addiction), and that is why Muslims are not to drink. Many college students choose to drink, and I respect their personal decisions. I may not always engage in the same activities as my friends, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about them or respect them.
Open-mindedness has always been something of value to me. It’s why I get frustrated with certain comments people make and why I’m saddened by the general lack of willingness to understand and learn about others. Some aren’t exposed to the resources, but when those who are choose to remain ignorant and to hate people who are different from them, it’s utterly disappointing. Along with my psych degree, I’ve decided to pursue a minor in religious studies and to continue my involvement in Campus Interfaith Council, one of the student organizations I joined as a freshman. I was elected the Community Service Chair for the 2010-2011 year, and I’m genuinely excited about my leadership position. It isn’t just about adding another detail to a résumé; it’s about meeting a diverse group of people and working together to promote coexistence. It’s something I’m very passionate about because of my own life and values. Whether it’s religion or anything else, diversity exists, and that’s not a bad thing. As a matter of fact, to me, it’s a beautiful thing.
I see the way Islam is portrayed in the media, and I understand that many Americans believe terrorism and oppression are synonymous with this faith and defining qualities of its followers. The only thing I can hope for is that people learn about Islam from educated Muslims or books and other legitimate sources – not by scrolling through random websites or taking everything reported on the news at face value. If nothing else, there’s just one thing I wish for you to take away from reading this: I’m always going to be me – no matter what changes come about. My most intense worrying has revolved around the idea that people I know and care about won’t accept this change or won’t treat me the same way they did before. I realize now that I could have saved myself a lot of mental stress had I focused more on my own peace and happiness, rather than the fear of disappointing others. Some converts adopt Arabic names and attempt to fully re-establish their identity. But that’s something I could never do. I’m not converting in an effort to wipe away the past.
I’m Erin, and I always will be. I’m still a dork. I still work way too hard in school. I still love to laugh. I still love music – listening to it and playing it. I still love my family and friends. And ice cream. I still want to travel the world. I don’t regret the years of dance and piano, of track and newspaper, of my friendships and memories with all of you. I may be ready to open another chapter, but that doesn’t mean I’ll forget the past. Even if the pages are worn and torn and the font faded, the story wouldn’t be complete without them.
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