A day of terrorism and also of heroism. A day of remembrance.
I don’t know if this is a coincidence, a sign from God or a moment of clarity, but this past week was the first time I saw a Muslim reciting Namaz (prayer) on the busy streets of New York. And then I saw it again. Two different days. Two different times. Two different people. One New York. 9/11 gave birth to Islamaphobia and those who know me know my life goal is to bring voice to the Muslim community, bring knowledge about the peace, and be the “one Muslim friend that changed your perspective” even if I don’t have all the answers. So naturally, a part of me respected these individuals but I stopped short to realize I was also afraid for them. Fear. The one of many NY fears. Maybe its a sign or a progress for the Muslim voice, that New York after eleven years remembers but ignorance doesn’t prevail… maybe its a new world of remembrance.
As Muslims begin to take out their tucked away Tasbihs (rosary) and Obama and Romney put down their swords momentarily to remember. To remember the day that trembled the entire country, which only after a year of being in New York I already see the pain that NYers went through. Real pain. Pain that starts and ends with “I lost my brother” or “My friend lost her dad.” The pain, the scare, the anger and the loss New York went through the rest of the country cannot believe, but they can remember. The pain that never dies even after the anger does. The pain that NY holds on to daily and today, eleven years later, New York remembers in a new world of remembrance.