When she was a little girl in kindergarten, Marlaina Elizabeth celebrated Christmas with her mother and father. She attended a private Catholic school and enjoyed life running around as a little kid with her friends and siblings. When Ameena was a little girl in third grade, she liked to ride her bike after school in the street. Under her helmet, she wore her hijab. One day, two men drove past her in a truck, pointing finger guns at her and telling her to go back where she had come from. Two different names, with two different stories, but the reality is that they have shared the same experiences. "WHAT? HOW, Kayla?!" you may be asking at me, if you a) know my name, b) are easily excitable, or c) all the above. It's because Marlaina and Ameena share the same exact DNA. Plot TWIST, yeah? Ameena told me that when she was nine years old, she chose to ditch the name Marlaina and rename herself Ameena—a symbol of her commitment to her new faith of Islam. By the time Ameena was in 6th grade, she had moved to a new public school district. One day after middle school gym class, she was changing in the girls locker room and took off her hijab to brush her hair. A girl whose locker had been across from her all year long walked into the locker room and stared at her as if she were a stranger, not realizing it was Ameena uncovered. The girl turned to her friends and asked who the girl brushing her hair was. “Is she new here?” she had asked them. Ameena did not tell me this story. I know it because I was the girl who hadn’t recognized her when she was uncovered. PLOT TWISTED YOU AGAIN. Now, a decade later, I met up with Ameena to get to know her. These are a few of the discussions we had throughout our time together. “Do you remember that, in the locker room?” “Yeah…” “I remember also being surprised that your hair was lighter and kind of red. I thought it would be much darker.” “Yeah, it’s light brown.” “Like chestnut?” “Sure, like chestnut.” “Can you explain your conversion to Islam?” “Yeah…. so. It’s complicated. My biological dad isn’t in the picture. My mom married a Muslim man from Morocco when I was one.” “And did he adopt you?” “Yes… but hang on. It’s really important for me to say that it was my mom’s decision to convert.” “As opposed to your dad making her?” “Right.” “Do people usually assume that?” “Yes. So I have to clarify.” “So what did make your mom wish to convert then?” “Well… for one, she was never very religious when she was a Christian, and she didn’t like that in Catholicism you have to confess your sins to someone else— she just wants to go straight to God.” “Oh, I believe that, too… as a Christian.” “Yeah. I think once she just started learning more about Islam she was just interested. My dad wasn’t very religious in his faith either, so we all learned together. Like he used to celebrate Christmas with us, but as we learned more, he started following Islam more closely, too.” “What did you think of the changes in your mom? Did you convert when she did? Did you understand?” “Well I wanted to do whatever my mom did, so I started covering in second grade and she explained to me how serious it was. Then I changed my name. I would say by fourth grade I actually started understanding stuff.” “How would you describe what Islam is?” “It’s one of those things where I’ve talked to so many people about what Islam is to me. I don’t just like saying what it is— only what it is to me. I know I’m just one person in this big religion so I feel like a tiny voice… I know only a few people can actually hear me, but it’s important for people to understand that this is just my take on it. I have a strong connection to my faith, but not my religion.” “So do you pray throughout the day?” “Um… I haven’t done my prayers in a while like I should, I’ll be honest.” “Why do you think that is?” “I’ve just been trying to figure myself out. I’ve been to parties; I tried walking around without my hijab.” “Is it okay if I put that in my blog?” “Yeah. To me if I can’t say it to just anyone, then I shouldn’t have done it. I want to talk about it. I’m an open book.” “Okay cool. What was that like, walking around without your hijab?” “I didn’t like it. I tried it at night because I thought it would be easier in the dark when it’s hard to see me anyway. I tried it during the day once when I was walking to my car, and I immediately thought, ‘Nope, nope, nope’ and I went back in and put it on. That was when I decided that if I couldn’t do it in the daylight, then it wasn’t for me to not wear my hijab.” “Do you read the Quran?” “I used to a lot, every day. I’ve slowed down since junior year. Then classes got real.” “Do you go to the local mosque around here?” “No.” “Why not?” “For me, if I were to go, I’d need to go with another Muslim friend because I don’t feel strong enough in my religion to go alone.” “How do you feel about being a Muslim in America?” “I like this country because the freedom, but at the same time I’m disappointed that HERE, I’m still stared at every day for what I wear. I wish people weren’t so stuck in their own bubbles. I wish everyone could just talk to each other and just walk up and say hi and not have to worry about differences. The majority is not willing to change and open up and learn in America, even though we say we are. I think tradition is great to a point, but we need to grow, too.” “Holler.” “Yeah. If I want to change that, I need to talk to all who will listen. The nice part is though, there are people who aren’t like that.” “What do you want to do after you graduate in May?” “I plan to teach English and travel to teach English in South Korea.” “No North Korea?” “DEFINITELY NOT North Korea.” “You don’t think it’d be fun?” “NO. Definitely not.”
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