Reflective Essay: Growing Up In America

I will not exaggerate and say that growing up in America is a great experience and that it allows me to see Islam alone, as opposed to an Islam riddled with cultural influence. Nor will I exaggerate and say that growing up in America is a horrible experience, that I am surrounded by the influence of evil daily, and that I abhor living in "Egypt both statements are valid to a certain extent, and the point at which they compromise is the truth.

Growing up as a child of Egyptian migrants I, I was confused about my identity for quite some time. Was I Egyptian, Egyptian American, Muslim, an Egyptian Muslim American, American Muslim, or a Muslim in America? Never have I seen the arrangement of two or three words both so confusing and controversial. I considered Egyptian even though my attachment to the country and culture was not equal to that of a native Egyptian. I wore American clothes, spoke English most of the time, even in the home. My daily
At. When I visited Egyptian at the age of six, my relatives called me "Amrikan" or American. In their eyes, I was not Egyptian. I had the same type of name, ate falafel food, and looked just like them, but I was not Egyptian Back home in America, I had a different name, complexion, and color, but I was not American. So for much of my life, I lived with the absence of a true identity. I could not define myself and that left me confused.

Things began to change once I entered adolescence. I began to lose many of my friends because I did not see the opposite sex in the same light as they did. My friends began dating and the usual talking about girls, but even though I was attracted to the opposite sex, I did not make it a public spectacle like they did. As a Muslim, my interactions with the opposite sex was to be dignified and in accordance to Islam. So, I lost a lot of friends because I was not "cool" anymore, and thus I was isolated based on my character, my