I will always feel at home in the UAE’s friendly spaces

Maryam Ismail looks at the changing sentiments towards Muslims in America based on her own experience

Commentator Bill Maher's popularity in the US has added fuel to the fire of anti-Muslim sentiment. Rebecca Cabage / AP Photo

I don’t know how Facebook’s algorithm works, but there is always some bad news about Muslims on my feed. Every day I read about the hate and mayhem that many Muslims face in America. Having lived just two kilometres away from the site of the World Trade Center in New York City didn’t help, either. I still remember fully armed soldiers guarding the railway and bus stations, and the nervousness of those who saw the smoke of the burning towers.

From September 12, 2001 onwards, almost everyone in the United States was restless with worry and fear. There was talk of war, hidden terror cells of jihadists bent on killing Americans by poisoning the water supply or blowing them up with dirty bombs. Walking around in the hijab was like having a target on my back; there were constant Muslim jokes and questions about Sharia for which I had no answers.

By the end of 2002, my patience with the promise of America had run out. I couldn’t take it any more. So, when the call came to leave, I ran. I left everything behind, including some dear family members and wonderful friends. But I never looked back. Some other expatriates complained about how better things were back at home, but not me. Recently, I was stuck between two Brits comparing fish and chip shops in Dubai. “There is no place that serves a good fish supper,” they moaned. When they turned to me, I confessed: “I don’t miss anything about America.” They gasped. “Really?”

Coming to the UAE was like getting oxygen after an asthma attack; I could breathe freely.

“Give me your tired, your poor, your masses yearning to breathe free …” These are the words at the base of the Statue of Liberty, yet this ideal, testimony and promise I have found not in America but in sitting in the mosques and family-friendly spaces among masses of women dressed like me in the hijab and abaya.

I later returned to America to teach at a university. And while things were better, I still felt that I was different from non-Muslims. People still asked the same questions and had the same ideas. When was it going to change?

With the Boston Marathon bombing and the rise of ISIL and Boko Haram, the scab was torn off America’s wound. Now, it seemed infected and people were looking for a way to kill what they saw as the “virus of Islam”. Some of the most famous Muslim-haters in the media, including Bill Maher and Pam Geller, were gaining in popularity adding fuel to the fire of anti-Muslim sentiment. This led to attacks on Muslims and people who looked like Muslims. This frightened me, but this time, I just had to go back.

Two weeks ago, I landed in New York on the worst of nights; a hot Saturday, when happy hour was ending and people were coming back home after having a few too many intoxicants. I just knew that they’d look at me cockeyed and say, “Hey, you’s a Moozlim!” followed by “Get her!” And yet, none of this happened.

Everyone was quite nice; it seemed that they were just talking to me as if there was nothing different about me. I was quite amazed. From Chinatown to New York Penn Station, to Kearny, New Jersey, everything was swell. I had a great time with my family and friends.

The visibility of Muslims might have something to do with it. They seem to be everywhere nowadays. When I was in university there was one hijabi graduating; now there are hundreds attending the same school. Also, the visual landscape of the media has changed; there appears to be more mixing of ethnicities, at least on television and around New York City.

Yet, in smaller towns, things seem the same – the same people doing the same jobs and living the same way, although with less money. This made me wonder: what had really changed and how much of it would last? I was just a fly on the wall, looking around with my tiny vista in front of me. And what I saw made me want to come home again very soon.

Maryam Ismail is a sociologist and teacher who divides her time between the US and the UAE