Eid In America Narrative

I glared with envy at the TV screen, screenplaying the joy on the Pakistani children’s faces, arriving to the immensely decorated mosques alongside their parents. They were dressed in vibrant colors and jewelry reflecting off of the early morning sun’s glare. It was Eid, one of the biggest Muslim holidays. Eid Mubarak! was our greeting to each other as my father prepared for his train ride to work and I did for my journey to school. Dressed in a navy blue shirt and khaki pants, strolling through the piles of dirty snow and ice in the freezing cold temperature of February, conflicted thoughts crossed my mind, Why can’t we be like them? What is so different about Eid in America than anywhere else?

“Eid was always better in Pakistan” were constant reminders from my mother who grew accustom to the traditions of her homeland. From spotting the full moon the night before to preparing the various entrees of food for relatives who would arrive the next day, it was reminiscent of her childhood memories. In America, Eid was an unknown phrase to many, a word of confusion. Leisure time was not provided instead it was considered a regular business day, I was to report to school and my parents were both expected to come to work. This impediment to the holidays significance led my family to stop taking part in the festivities of Eid.
“It's not the same as it was before” was their response but it wasn't enough for me, I wanted to know what makes Eid so special. “Why can't we prioritize and celebrate our own way?” exhausted at my stubbornness to her shutdowns, we learned to adapt old cultural beliefs with a new system of