At school there was constant bullying, some mocked my scarf claiming that my bun was a bomb, but I would smile and ignore. I made my name sound more American and denied that I have any cultural background outside of the U.S. I was losing myself and I could feel it. I was like a Martian, an alien unknown to everyone. Each day I would lock myself in my room and cry till I felt nothing but numbness, it had become a routine. My family would try to make me feel like a princess but each day I returned feeling like trash. That was until one day; these guys in the back of the class started yelling “Allahu Akbar” and played a bomb explosion right after. I asked them to turn it off but they refused claiming that they were just sharing some knowledge with their fellow classmates about how people like me were only good at blowing things up. It was then that I realized that I was NOT good at blowing stuff up but at math. I was like every other person in the room and I didn’t have to take this anymore. I’m an American and I don’t need them to believe me. This delicate Hijab that lies on my head and covers my hair is what makes me, me, and I don’t have to apologize for it. They can judge, hate, criticize me forever but their opinions don’t matter, not
At school there was constant bullying, some mocked my scarf claiming that my bun was a bomb, but I would smile and ignore. I made my name sound more American and denied that I have any cultural background outside of the U.S. I was losing myself and I could feel it. I was like a Martian, an alien unknown to everyone. Each day I would lock myself in my room and cry till I felt nothing but numbness, it had become a routine. My family would try to make me feel like a princess but each day I returned feeling like trash. That was until one day; these guys in the back of the class started yelling “Allahu Akbar” and played a bomb explosion right after. I asked them to turn it off but they refused claiming that they were just sharing some knowledge with their fellow classmates about how people like me were only good at blowing things up. It was then that I realized that I was NOT good at blowing stuff up but at math. I was like every other person in the room and I didn’t have to take this anymore. I’m an American and I don’t need them to believe me. This delicate Hijab that lies on my head and covers my hair is what makes me, me, and I don’t have to apologize for it. They can judge, hate, criticize me forever but their opinions don’t matter, not