…and that is interfering with my happiness. Last night I went to sleep wondering what it must feel like to be Muslim. And under attack by the Trump administration. All of the United State’s core values are being challenged and changed. We are no longer, as of January 20th, the land of the free and the home of the brave.
This is what it is like for my next door neighbor and her family.
She is a single mom of 4 children. Refugees from Palestine and the turmoil that comes from the conflict between Israel and Palestine. She works 2 jobs to feed her family. Her sisters and their families are also refugees trying to make a go of it in the land of the free. All of them warm, welcoming people who invite us in for tea when we see each other out in the yard. The women are covered, the men quiet. Their English is hesitant at times, the children acting as interpreters for all of us. We laugh a lot and bemoan the fact that we can’t always understand each other. My neighbor’s father and mother especially wish they could speak English better.
They have the best cooking aroma’s coming from their house. They pride themselves on having lots of food to feed everyone.
So imagine, since January 20th, the feeling of fear and anxiety they feel over being Muslim. Imagine how they feel since Trump signed his executive order abandoning refugees and immigrants from Muslim nations.
Imagine how you feel when your child calls you at work telling you, mama, the FBI is at our door. What should we do. Someone has called the FBI to say that my next door neighbors are ISIS sympathizers. She races home to find the FBI searching her home. She is already upset that her citizenship test has been postponed indefinitely. Her parents in Palestine, getting ready for their annual trip to the United States to enjoy their children and grandchildren are denied access. They won’t be coming over anytime soon. Because they are Muslim. And now they worry about the neighbors suspecting them of being terrorists. How alone they must feel.
So that is why I am anxious, worried and sick to my stomach most days. My happiness is in peril. But I’m not Muslim. I can’t imagine for a moment what it must feel like for my next door neighbor and her family. All I can do is keep having tea with them, showing them kindness and understanding. Making sure that they know that they have a safe haven with us if they need it.
In Search of Happiness 