Margari Aziza

January 4, 2013

Pilgrimage for Life

Pilgrimage for life
Like many converts, I was drawn to Islam’s egalitarian message. Through Muslim student groups on college campuses and community life in various masajid,  I developed close friendships with Muslim women from all parts of the world. We were brought together by our mutual love for Allah and His Messenger.  The bonds that I developed with some of them gave me a sense of real belonging and acceptance that I had not felt with my high school friends and even member of my own family. But there were also  times when those cross cultural encounters brought to light some unsettling realities of racism and colorism. But by addressing our shortcomings we can meet the challenge and create communities that are more closely aligned with the example set by our Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him).

Although language and cultural differences can create challenges to forming social bonds, perceptions of race and ethnic identity can have the greatest impact on how well some women are received by a community.  When asked how her ethnic identity influenced her integration into the Muslim community, Keziah. S. Ridgeway, an African American  high School Social Studies teacher, responded that her outgoing personality helped bridge the cultural divide. She noted, “however, as time wore on I did realize that many of the people that I hung out with had biases towards people who looked like myself.”  Safiyyah, a white American convert, said that her ethnicity as an Ashkenazi Jew influenced her integration because some Muslims were suspicious of her and others denied her cultural identity. She added that by extension of her African American husband, she has experienced discrimination. “We rarely get invited to the homes of immigrant Muslims. This is despite the fact that the Muslims in our mosque know us very well, and that my husband and I are active in our mosque.” Some argue that this is old world thinking and they place their hopes on the next generation.

In many Islamic schools, students socialize along racial lines,   repeating the social patterns of their own racially segregated Muslim communities. The language that many of the Arab American students use alienates a number of African American students. Kezia highlighted the common usage of the word abeed (Arabic for slave) to refer to African Americans. She said,  “their parents use it on a regular basis to describe African Americans. To them it’s just a cultural term and many don’t understand why it evokes anger from their Black counterparts.” In a Michigan school, when two weekend school teachers disciplined a child for using the term, the parents came to the child’s defense. Islamic schools are often a crucible for race relations in our ummah.

The sad reality in our Islamic schools and segregated communities contrasts with the egalitarian message that we find in the Qur’an, which says:

“O Humankind! We have created you from male and female and have made you into peoples (shu‘ub) and tribes (qaba’il) that you may know one another; truly, the noblest (akram) among you before God are the most pious (atqa) among yourselves; indeed, is God the All-knowing, the All-seeing.” (49:13).

The Prophet (PBUH) said during his farewell pilgrimage:

Oh humankind, your Lord is one and your ancestors are one. You are from Adam and Adam was from dust. Behold, neither the Arab has superiority to the non-Arab, nor the red to the black nor the black to the red except by virtue of piety (taqwa). Truly the most distinguished amongst you is the most pious

Yet, Muslims old and young are often stereotyped and categorized by their ethnic background and color of their skin.

Some have argued that the colorism and racism we find in the Muslim ummah is due to colonization. Yet, we can find even in classical Islamic literature racial hierarchies. Ibn Khaldun wrote disparaging of sub-Saharan Africans as lacking intellect. A famed Andalusian poetess, Hafsah Ar-Rukaniyyah  (1190-1191) asked Abu Jaffar how could he love a Black woman, ”Who is altogether like the night, which hides beauty/
And with darkness obscures the radiance of a face?” In the chapter on marriage in the Revival of the Religious Sciences,  Imam Ghazali wrote, “a black woman is better than a barren beautiful women,” implying that black women cannot be beautiful. Blacks were assumed to not have status in Arab society. This was reflected in some classical positions where a man could marry a black woman as a guardian. Their documentation  points to how Muslims fall short of our ideals. Blind acceptance of social norms and customs perpetuate ignorance and bias. Ethnic chauvinism leads to arrogance and robs us of our ability to see the inherent value and beauty of each human being.

Like racism, colorism is a blight in our community.  I found the traces of colorism in my students’ creative writing projects as they wrote about protagonists with skin as white as milk. Dark skin has been looked down upon in many Muslim societies through the ages. And now, there is a huge market playing into fears and insecurities.  Some halal and international markets in the US are stocked with bleaching cream. There are young girls who fear playing outside lest they become black and ugly.   Girls and women with curly and kinky hair struggle with issues of self worth and shame because they can’t tame their curls into submission. The standard of beauty is centered around pale skin and straight hair, with as European features as possible. An international student from the Gulf suggested that I pinch my daughter’s nose to make it grow straight and pointy. She recently expressed a desire to have work done on her own nose.  The frequent comments about my daughter’s fair complexion and the Muslim obsession with European features makes me shudder to think about what type of self image will my curly haired, button nosed daughter have in the Muslim community. While living in abroad, one friend said that in the West there are many types of beauty, but in Egyptian society there was one standard. It worries me that we use veiled rhetoric about liberating ourselves from western standards of beauty with hijab, all the while embracing notions of beauty that are just as oppressive, if not more. The beauty regime of whitening and straightening continues even as the society becomes more outwardly religious.

Challenging beauty norms or patterns of racism in our community can seem daunting for the individual.  Muslim womanSafiyyah said to “Remember all the Qur’an and ahadith that speaks out against racism” and “defend victims of racism when it occurs.” Citing the example of the “We’re All Abeed of Allah” campaign, which uses T-shirts and wristbands to deliver their message, Kezia argued that Muslims must unite and form coalitions to change racial perceptions. Her role as an educator, activist,  and Muslim fashion blogger places her in a special position to address these changes through education and meaningful dialogue.  Both women point the power of women’s voices. We need to speak up and against expressions racism and colorism. The disease of prejudice that plagues our community can be cured if enough of us create a stigma against violating the prophetic example.

You can read the full article and other thoughtful pieces at Sisters Magazine  January 2013 edition “All the Colours of the Ummah”

December 18, 2012

On Children Dying

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: — Margari Aziza Hill @ 1:10 am
Sometimes, the most emotionally vulnerable of us human being succumbs to evil and commits an atrocity. Every day we see in the news stories of children who are killed, kidnapped, sexually abused. We see news stories of children caught in conflict, whose innocence could not shield them from the madness of adults. And often, we try to make sense of this world and have children in hopes that they will be safe from harm. But rarely do we ever hear of children so sweet targeted for their innocence. Most of us have expressed empathy and have been sympathetic. I looked at the definition and found these.

Definition of EMPATHY

1: the imaginative projection of a subjective state into an object so that the object appears to be infused with it
2: the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another of either the past or present without having the feelings, thoughts, and experience fully communicated in an objectively explicit manner; also: the capacity for this

Definition of SYMPATHY

a: an affinity, association, or relationship between persons or things wherein whatever affects one similarly affects the other b: mutual or parallel susceptibility or a condition brought about by itc: unity or harmony in action or effect <every part is in complete sympathy with the scheme as a whole — Edwin Benson>
a: inclination to think or feel alike : emotional or intellectual accord <in sympathy with their goals> b: feeling of loyalty : tendency to favor or support<republican sympathies>
a: the act or capacity of entering into or sharing the feelings or interests of another b: the feeling or mental state brought about by such sensitivity <have sympathy for the poor>
: the correlation existing between bodies capable of communicating their vibrational energy to one another through some medium

Initially, I thought empathy had a deeper meaning. But in some ways, I found the definition 1a of sympathy encapsulates the collective mourning we all went into. I found that some people lacked empathy and used it as an opportunity to make political statements. They seemed unsympathetic towards the loss that many of those parents must have felt, and by proxy many of us who are horrified by the thought of innocents cut down because they were innocent. The massacre speaks to a fear that every parent has. And for me, it reminded me of the trauma my family faced when my sister died. I spent all weekend thinking about my mother who lost a child and my brother who survived a tragic accident.

I don’t remember everything, but flashes here and there come back to me. Now more often than not, I have memories of the memories. Every once in awhile my mother reminds me about the events that my brother wont speak about. I don’t even know the exact dates, but my world fell apart somewhere between four and five years old.  Muslim aren’t supposed to believe in omens, but something ominous happened. I see it through my mother’s eyes, as she watched my older sister Melissa go into hysterics over a bird flying into the house. My sister knew the omen foretold death. But none of us would know the scale at that time.

My older brother and sister are my half siblings.  Most people in my mother’s family didn’t like my father and knowing how he treated my mother at times, I could understand why. My mother recounted recently that no one wanted to babysit us when my father’s parents died shortly after that bird visited us. So,  all three of us kids got ready to take the 10 hour drive with my mom, dad, and their friend (I can’t remember his name and I’m writing this story off the top of my head). I remember knowing how sad my sister was as my mother combed her hair. Funny how those things stick with you.

When we were alone, she asked me to keep a secret. I promised. Then she said, “God told me I’m going to die.” Children are terrible at keeping secrets. But this one I kept. Hours later…in the darkness…flashing lights…tears. When my mom found me I was  thrown out the car, like my brother and sister, and landed on the road. But I landed on a pile of coats with only a few scratches. She said I kept repeating, “I knew this was going to happen. I knew it.” My brother was thrown the farthest. But my sister had the most extensive injuries, including a broken hip.

The hospital to me was this bright place and I remember my sister’s calm.  My sister taught me about God. Maybe I thought he changed his mind, because I don’t remember being sad. I used to remember more 20 years ago and damn the memories fade.  I remember wanting her jello. She had to have surgery because they put her in traction with a broken hip. My mother said just as they were closing her up, she went into cardiac arrest. Her lung was pierced by a broken rib, something that likely contributed to her death. It was all preventable,  There was a malpractice suit, a shady lawyer, and a small compensation for every year that she died. Years later, there was some controversy in the family because after my mother left my father, my father signed for the money. Whether he smoked it, shot it up, or my uncle. Somebody used it. No one knows whatever happened to the trust fund.

After my sister’s death. I stayed with my father’s sister and she spoiled me. My aunt was a smart woman and my father said that she favored Oprah Winfrey. She just finished her Ph.D. in psychology, but hadn’t walked stage. I flew back home and entertained the whole flight with my Shirley Temple routine (I was such a ham then).  My aunt Pattie told my mom that she never had to worry about me, that I’d be okay. My mom took it literally through most of my life, even when I wasn’t okay. But looking back, I think she was right. Shortly after I took that flight back home,  she was preparing for a trip.  No one thought twice when they didn’t hear from her in days. But she had diabetes and had died. She had been dead for days when they found her.

So, between four and five I knew death and dying. Sadness used to over take me. And over the years, my brother became angry and those things unspoken bottled up inside of him. Melissa was much closer to my brother, who had to be about 11. We all had survivor’s guilt somehow. My mom said our family friend who was behind the wheel never got over it. When I finally reunited with my father after 18 years, he cried about what happened. One of the rare times I’ve seen my mom cry was when I was in my 20s. She began to talk about that dark time and how she was so numb, but had to pick up the pieces. She left my abusive dad and we moved to California where a long lost aunt lived.

Almost a decade later, my brother lost his temper in an argument with my mom and over turned a table. To blow off some steam he went fishing with his friend Henry.  That night my mother dreamed that  Melissa was sitting outside.  My mother tried to get her to come inside. My dreams were also disturbed that night. Henry and my brother never made it to their destination. A drunk driver hit them head on and for hours they held on to life until they were finally rescued. We rushed to Santa Cruz hospital and my mother losing another child, a young adult this time. Henry passed, but my brother held on even after going into cardiac arrest several times. I was in ICU for so long and in the hospital for months. He picked up his shattered life because he had a daughter to live for. Years later, I heard that fear in his voice one time when we thought were losing my niece, when she stopped breathing and turned blue. We live near a fire station and they came within minutes to resuscitate her. In her teens, I remember a doctor telling my brother to make sure he had life insurance policy for her because she had a condition that could result in her death.  No one wants to hear that fear in someone’s voice, the fear and sadness of a parent losing their child. My niece pulled through and is healthy. She has a beautiful daughter now, named Melissa.

When my daughter was first born, I’d wake up in a panic if she was sleeping to still. I spent the whole first year afraid of SIDS. Becoming a mother has made me much more prone to irrational and rational fears. No mother wants to bury her own child. My sister was just a year older than many of the children who were murdered last Friday. I can’t imagine the pain and loss my mother felt when she put her daughter in that small casket. Twenty parents are laying a piece of themselves in the ground in tiny caskets. And losing a loved one hollows you out, leaving a void far larger than the hole they dig for their caskets.

My mom always felt a bit empty after losing Melissa. I think that’s why she was so happy to have my youngest sister some 8 years later. My mother once related to me about an evening when Melissa told her to look at the stars. Melissa said with amazement, that’s how many descendants of Abraham there are. Through my sister, I fell in love with those old Testament stories. I’ve always found meaning in my sister’s life, as she is the one who taught me to love God. And I spent my young life trying to find a spiritual home and a place that allowed me to find comfort in Melissa’s narrative. I found that in Islam, where children are considered innocent and when they die, they go to paradise. I always knew she was called to be with God. Even during my darkest times, I could not deny that my sister foretold her own death. I could not escape the peace she made with that. I could not deny the unseen world that always seemed to exist beneath the surface. All those precious children who are taken from us are not ours, but God’s. I don’t feel sadness about where they are now, but how terrible their last moments were. I feel sad for the parents who can’t hold them and see them grow. We are left picking up the pieces and numb, wondering how do we make this a better world.

 

 

December 13, 2012

It has been a long time and plans for the site

Filed under: Uncategorized — Margari Aziza Hill @ 2:35 pm

I know it has been forever. While my blog has been silent, but mind has been active. I’ve also had my hands quite full, freelance editing, teaching part time, and being new mom to a lovely one year old. I just started writing again, but I hope to move my writing in a new direction, focusing on essays and reportage. I submitted a few articles to Sister’s magazine on two of my passions, race relations and the history of Islam in Africa. Both deal with gender, so you get the theme. Being an educator, you are exposed to a lot of stuff you want to write about, but can’t. It means you have to broach subjects with a lot of tact. So, the instead of the old sledgehammer approach, I must put some velvet gloves on the iron fist. Working with people, you see their humanity. At the same time, you can see how systems reproduce inequality and how short sightedness and ineptitude can undermine the most promising of institutions. Above all, you see that most of us mean well and are trying the best we know how. A year and a half ago, I talked about a series of articles I intend on writing. I still want to work on those. It will realistically take a lot longer. At the same time, I realize that I have to look at writing as part of my self care, as a way to nourish my mind and refine all those jumbled thoughts in my head. I hope you will be patient with me as I build up my writing chops again.

July 10, 2012

Politically Incorrect pre-Ramadan post

Filed under: Friendship, Muslim Communities in America, Ramadan, Uncategorized — Margari Aziza Hill @ 11:37 am

Before Ramadan begins, I want to get something off my chest. Whether we like to admit it or not, we all have felt excluded at some point during Ramadan.  However, there are some things that should be left unsaid about our friendships, especially during Ramadan. For example, if you hear that one of your friends is getting together with a some other folks, you shouldn’t say, “Why wasn’t I invited?” Here is where you should give your co-religionists 75 excuses, as opposed to harboring ill feelings during this blessed month. Besides, how many get togethers have you organized without inviting your whole address book? If you really want to hang out with said friend, invite them for an iftar. Maintain contact throughout the year, build closer bonds, and next year they will remember you. Stop worrying about whether or not you were included. There could have been  a myriad of reasons why you weren’t invited this time around: budgetary concerns of the host (it is expensive and the economy sucks); numbers (room may be full to capacity); crowd (it may not be your scene); organizer (perhaps the host is not even your friend or the event was to bring together certain people for a specific purpose); perhaps you don’t extend invitations yourself; perhaps they just forgot.  Ramadan is not a time to harbor bad feelings or develop envy over someone getting invited to an event that you were not invited to.

Contrary to our family’s face, our social world is very limited. As a recent transplant and new mother it can be isolating and challenging. There have been many a Ramadan when I received a scarce invitation outside the community events that are open to the public. The daily iftars at Stanford were great. I didn’t have to worry about stuff like that. But here, in Philadelphia, at my first public iftar, I felt like I was just an object in all the sisters’ way.  I didn’t feel very welcomed, so I understand.  Outside of a handful of friends that I run into at public functions, I get the warm smile and the I-recognize-you-and-and-your-husband-but-I’m-too-busy-to-talk-to-you interactions from most. During my first year in Philadelphia, we received two invitations to people’s homes. One ended badly when a guest turned out to be confrontational because many guests weren’t in his particular sect. My second Ramadan, we didn’t receive many personal invites either. Those that did invite us were recent transplants to the Philadelphia. My third Ramadan was similar, even as I was very heavily pregnant and majorly tired, I think some people complained about last year when we didn’t invite them. And once again, not many personal invites outside the usual transplants and public events.

A lot of people we know and have been close to have not invited us over to their homes for whatever reason. At times do I feel left out when they write about their functions and close ties in public forums like facebook? Yes. But do I put it in perspective and keep on moving? I try to and focus on what I can do to not feel so isolated while not breaking my bank or neglecting myself or my family. I know that Ramadan is not about being part of the in crowd or showing up at the who’s who event to eat up all of somebody else’s food. Nor is it about creating popularity contests. These are things we shouldn’t bother ourselves with because we should be focused on higher things. Okay, breath deep, now to focus on my pre-Ramadan jitters! Stay blessed all!

September 11, 2011

My Obligatory Tenth Anniversary of 9/11 Post

Filed under: Uncategorized — Margari Aziza Hill @ 6:42 am

Out of the Shadows of 9/11: Professor Hussein Rashid on faith’s role in social change from Kellie Picallo on Vimeo.

I haven’t written much the past ten years about my thoughts on 9/11.  In truth, the day marks a day of loss in a much different day. The first anniversary of 9/11 was the day my father died. I hadn’t seen him in 18 years with intermittent phone calls. But we reunited in 2000 only to drift apart again.  This is by no means a comparison to the those who lost loved ones the year before. But, I remember listening to a radio program on my way to my second year back at Santa Clara University. And the program reminded me that I needed to reconnect with loved ones. Since school hadn’t started, I worked pretty much full-time hours in the Dean of Student Affairs office. At some point of the day, I felt a profound sadness. This upped my anxiety and I couldn’t wait to get home to get on the phone and locate my father.   But when I got home, I heard a voice mail from my father’s cousin telling me to call her. I knew then that it was over, no second chances, I would never have a relationship with my father. He was gone.

My father was a Vietnam Vet who as awarded a purple heart. He suffered post-traumatic stress syndrome, which profoundly affected him and those who loved him. Even during my parents’ marriage, he could not hold it together and his life spiraled into an out of control cycle of drug abuse, unemployment, and domestic violence. My mother eventually left. I have heard that he had been to VA hospitals and some treatment programs. He never remarried and I was his only child. My cousin told me that the day he died, he spoke of my mother and me and said he wanted to contact me.

When he died, my father had no burial arrangements and I had no money as I was a struggling student. He stayed in the morgue for over a week as his family tried to figure out how to bury him. So, my cousins had to erase my existence saying that he had no next of kin on the forms. He was cremated and my cousins drove his remains to his home town of Columbus Ohio. Eventually, my cousin was able to hire someone to get my father recognized as a veteran who served his country so that he could have a dignified burial. I had to leave before he had a proper military burial. He was finally laid to rest a bit over a week after I left Ohio, but they mailed me the flag that they used on the coffin.  To this day it remains folded in an immaculate triangle, in a case my mother bought. While it is at my mother’s house, that flag is my one possession that I take most pride in. That flag is a testament of his service to our country, the friends he lost, the wounds received, and the price he paid. Yes, Vietnam was a senseless war, but it wasn’t his choosing. Still he paid a price, and ultimately our family did too. But this post is not about me feeling sorry for my family because of his PTSD, rather it is to point out that as a daughter of a veteran, as the descendant of people who sacrificed so much in this country, that no one can deny my Americaness.

When I met my father again for the first time after 18 years, he knew I was Muslim. He said he studied Islam and respected the religion. He respect my choice, as do my other family members. I have a number of family members who have served their country. And while we have different political views, they would never deny my right to belong in America. And never as a Muslim have I felt like I didn’t belong in this country. It was my birthright. And it is the right of other American Muslims to be able to grieve, live, and love in this country.

September of 2001 was an exciting year for me, as I finally picked up the pieces of my life and was going back to school. I knew I wanted to write, but figured I’d become a technical writer working on software training manuals and that I’d write fiction on the side. At that time, I was still trying to figure out my place in the American Muslim community. I identified as a Muslim, but I had no idea how that would ultimately manifest itself in my life. I didn’t wear hijab at the time and the only identifying feature of my religion was the  Arabic “Allah” necklace I wore around neck. But frequently I talked about my faith if people were curious. School hadn’t started, so I still had my regular 9 to 5 hours at MicroCenter. And as I turned on the radio, I thought I was hearing a joke. I changed stations because it wasn’t funny. But it was more reporting of the attacks. I could barely make sense of it, the towers, airplanes grounded, we were under attack.  As I passed the airport,  I didn’t see a single plane in the sky. Just a clear blue sky.  It was eerie because for some reason I tended to live near the landing and take off path and could always see airplanes in the sky. But it was just clear, empty blue sky. I didn’t know if any other cities were being hit. I didn’t know what was happening as I was stuck in my car and could only move forward to get to my job. I got to work and my co-workers and I were transfixed. Some of the guys tried to make some jokes and made an off color joke about our Arab co-worker parachuting out. I can’t even remember the rest of the day. All I remember was feeling doubly vulnerable as an American under attack and as a Muslim who would receive the backlash from those who would blame all Muslims. I wondered what types of wars would come of the attack and I feared the worst.

The tragedy touched me in different ways. A former co-worker’s mother had been in the vicinity and escaped the World Trade Center, someone I knew told me he had been in an adjacent building, Deora Bodley a 20 year old junior who died on Flight 93 would have graduated with me from Santa Clara University. There were memorials for Deora and several vigils. Someone even pointed out Deora’s boyfriend, who looked so broken and still in mourning.  During my first week of classes, 9/11 was all that people wanted to discuss. I was often the only Muslim, I would try to help my classmates and professors understand the socio-political situation in Muslim majority nations. I tried to explain the grievances that extremist Muslims had. I was well versed since that literature circulated widely and easily as different groups tried to radicalize us young Muslim student . I often thank God that I turned away from justifying certain actions early on and became more grounded in 1997 as I studied under Hamza Yusuf. And some of our more radical MSA members were finally able to see the logical outcome of their rhetoric and they too turned away from their extremist views. But many of us Muslims were all concerned that we had not provided a counter balance to extremist ideologies and there was a call “Where are the moderate Muslims?”

9/11 was my wake up call and ultimately it made me embrace my faith even more. I couldn’t be an invisible American Muslim, a Muslim of convenience. Under the encouragement Professor Gelber, I decided on a career in academia. Maybe my plans were lofty, to explore the history of Muslim societies and look for institutions and practices that were not reactionary but positive. I believed that by drawing on our historical and cultural legacy, that we Muslims could transform our communities and societies. I wanted to be a bridge, bringing together both sides of my identity. Bridges were needed as I saw my country become increasingly polarized. In retrospect, when you compare what has happened in Afghanistan and Iraq, American Muslims have had it so easy. But there was increased pressure for us to become public. Maybe I was lulled into a sense of comfort because I attended a Catholic University, which was anti-war and pro-interfaith dialogue. But praise God, we American Muslims didn’t receive much of a backlash. Yes, there were hate crimes, a burning of an Arab Christian Church, a random murder of a South Asian Fremont woman, some beatings, increased surveillance, etc.

Ten years later, it seems like America has become even more uncomfortable with American Muslims.   While I feel profound loss when I see the horrors of those events and often cry when I read or watch the personal accounts of people who lost a loved one, I also feel as if I am not allowed to mourn (at least not publicly).  Ten years later, people want me to apologize for 9/11, assume I have some agenda to take over this country, and spew hate and misconceptions about me and my co-religionists. I see the hate posted in the comments section of news articles. I have seen protest after protest against Muslim houses of worship. I have heard some people deny that my faith is even a religion. I fear that this country has gone down the path that the terrorists wanted us to go. Their actions were meant to provoke military aggression, to stir up fear and hatred, and to drive a wedge between peoples. Despite all the hatred, there are those like myself, whether immigrants, children  and grand-children of immigrants or converts or children and grandchildren of converts, who are committed to both our faith and country and see no contradiction in being American and Muslim.

While no one carries the sins of another, many of us American Muslims know that we bear an even greater responsibility now to be better neighbors and citizens than those who would deny others’ constitutional rights. We will be better than those who spew hate and try to intimidate others. I am glad that many Muslims are embracing and asserting their Americaness, when we were too timid to do so because we were once so steeped in anti-establishment rhetoric, in the anti-neo colonial discourse, or ethnic isolationism to feel like we could fully participate. When we can fully embrace our Americaness, we will not only be able to make a contribution, but we can also participate in the our constitutional rights and even spirit of protest to make this country better. We have a new generation of Muslims serving in this society, giving humanitarian aid, educating, healing, building, creating, even defending it in armed service.  I think back to my father’s flag and how that will eventually pass on to my children.  And I don’t mind working harder to contribute something to my community and society. Many of my American co-religionists feel the same. And we do this because this is where our future lies, were our children and children’s children will be buried. We do this, not because we are rabid nationalists or ethnic chauvanists, but because America is our home and part of who we are.

Waqf

Filed under: Islam, Islamic Education, Sadaqah — Margari Aziza Hill @ 4:44 am

After reading a post on Why Don’t Our Mosques Pay for Themselves,  I posted this on my tumblr account:

I found this article by Muhammad Ashour cross posted on Steven Zhou’s blog. Hat tip to Steven Zhou for his thoughtful analysis on issues pertaining to Canadian Muslims and the Middle East.  Ashour’s article  is definitely a timely read and something that supports what I’ve been saying about the new mosque leadership.  Ashour brings up important issues of transparency when it comes to how funding is applied in various masajid and the need for social ventures in order to fund masjid operations. We had a such thing in history, the religious endowment or waqf. Unfortunately, Muslims are largely detached from their own history because either they think they are too forward thinking to look at pre-modern institutions or they deny the relevancy of any social institution or Muslim practice that can not be directly found in the Qur’an and Sunnah. But the religious endowment is an absolutely important institution that helped provide social services and humanitarian aid, supported students, and kept many masajid afloat. The only problem is that these days, Muslims want to see immediate returns on their investment rather than raising enough funds to start an endowment and then building. We keep fundraising for a new parking lot, or an addition, or to pay for a full time imam. Investing in an endowment results in sadaqah jariyah, but I’ll leave the fiqh issues to the scholars. Anyways, let’s start thinking long term folks!

My knowledge about the Waqf came from my Ottoman studies in undergraduate and graduate school. In a lecture I gave at Philadelphia mosque a few years ago I told the audience  The pious endowments, or Waqf, played an important role in Ottoman economic and social life.  Considered one of the highest of good deeds a Muslim could perform, it consisted of helping other people. Often the waqfs supports hospitals, bridges, baths, inns, hospitals, and markets. The wealthier the individual, the grander the waqf. Many of the audience members were elders, so they had gone through the transition from Nation of Islam to Orthodox Islam in 1975. They recalled that the mosque owned property and back then there were several thriving businesses. But much of this was dismantled during the later years of W.D. Muhammad. One audience member mentioned that there was still community property, they just had to figure out what to do next. I know there are many communities that look to buy property and develop it, and I have heard positive things about another Philadelphia community called Masjidullah. Unfortunately the website is down and I haven’t made it out that way. But they seem to have a lot of programming and I have been told they have a greater amount of transparency when it comes to their allocation of funds. Similarly, I have heard of other communities with development projects in the works, one lead by Imam Okasha in Southwest Philadelphia and another Masjid al Madinah in Supper Darby.  I don’t know if these communities have a long term vision of creating endowments or whether or not they have their vision grounded in the Islamic tradition of waqf. But it would be interesting to explore that in a series of interviews. I guess I have another possible research topic at hand.

But going back to my original quote on tumblr. Unfortunately, I was mistaken about the origins of the waqf. A waqf is an established practice of the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.). I did a brief search on information involving the waqf (pl. awqaf). I found this informative page, from a Malaysian organization, Khalifah Insitute’s  website. In the article, it details the establishment of the first Islamic religious endowment:

In the history of Islam, the first religious waqf is the mosque of Quba’ in Madinah, a city 400 kilometer north of Makkah, which was built upon the arrival of the Prophet Muhammad in 622. It stands now on the same lot with a new and enlarged structure. Six months later, Quba’ was followed by the mosque of the Prophet in the center of Madinah. Mosques and real estates confined for providing revenues to spend on mosques’ mainten­ance and running expenses are in the category of religious waqf.

Philanthropic waqf is the second kind of waqf. It aims at supporting the poor segment of the society and all  activities which are of interest to people at large such as libraries, scientific research, education, health services,  care of animals and environment, lending to small businessmen, parks, roads, bridges, dams, etc. Philan­thropic waqf began by the Prophet Muhammad too. A man calledMukhairiq made his will that his seven orchards in Madinah be given after his death to Muhammad. In year four of the hijrah calendar (a lunar calendar which begins with the migration of the prophet Muhammad from Makkah to Madinah in 622), the man died and the Prophet took hold of the orchards and made them a charitable waqf for the benefit of the poor and needy.  This practice was followed by the companion of the prophet and his second successor Umar, who asked the prophet what to do with a palm orchard he got in the northern Arabian peninsula city of khaibar and the Prophet said “If you like, you may hold the property as waqf and give its fruits as charity.” many other charitable waqf were made by the Prophet’s death in 632.

Now, back the situation of our ailing communities. Why can’t our mosques pay for themselves? That is because we are not following the established sunnah of how to fund our most central social institution. And down the list, with our short sightedness, we fail to fund endeavors that would have a long term positive social impact. I found this section especially insightful:

With regards to use of waqf revenues the most frequent purpose is spending on mosques. This usually includes salaries of imam [prayer leader and speaker of friday religious ceremony], teacher(s) of Islamic studies, preacher(s). With the help of this independent source of financing  religious leaders and teachers have always been able to take social and political positions independent of that of the ruling class. for example, upon the occupation of Algeria by french troops  in 1831, the colonial authority took control of the awqaf property in order to suppress religious leaders who fought against occupation (Ajfan, p.325).

Although religious education is usually covered by waqf on mosques, education in general has been the second largest user of waqf revenues. Since the beginning of Islam, in the early seventh century, education has been financed by waqf and voluntary contributions. Even government  financing of education used to take the form of constructing a school and assigning certain property  as waqf of the school. Awqaf of the Ayubites (1171-1249) and the Mamalik (1249-1517) in Palestine  and Egypt are good examples. According to historical sources, Jerusalem had 64 schools at the  beginning of the twentieth century all of them are waqf and supported by awqaf properties in     pales­tine, Turkey and Syria. Of these schools 40 were made awqaf by Ayubites and Mamalik rulers  and governors (Al cAsali, pp. 95-111). The University of al Azhar is another example. It was  founded in Cairo in 972 and was financed by its waqf revenues until the government of Muhammad  Ali in Egypt took control over the awqaf in 1812 (Ramadan, p. 135).

Waqf financing of education usually covers libraries, books, salaries of teachers and other staff  and stipends to students. Financing was not restricted to religious studies especially at the stage of  the rise of Islam. In addition to freedom of education this approach of financing helped creating a learned class not derived from the rich and ruling classes. At times, majority of Muslim scholars  used to be coming from poor and slave segments of the society and very often they strongly opposed the policies of the rulers (al Syed, pp. 237-258).

The third big beneficiary of waqf is the category of the poor, needy, orphans, persons in  prisons, etc. Other users of waqf revenues include health services which cover construction of  Hospitals and spending on physicians, apprentices and patients. One of the examples of the health  waqf is the Shishli Children Hospital in Istanbul which was founded in 1898 (al Syed, p. 287).

There is also waqf on animals whose example is the waqf on cats and the waqf on unwanted riding animals both in Damascus (al Sibaci). There are awqaf for helping people go to Makkah for pilgrimage and for helping girls getting married, and for many other philanthropic purposes.

  Thinking about these passages, I am reminded of how some our brothers and sisters are mistaken in their view of the past. Not long ago, I had a conversation with a sister who said, “Why study history? It is boring? It is dead. It is passed. It is the past.” But the forgotten model of endowment/waqf is why we should examine our history closely. We might see the more Islam in practice in models that worked, as opposed to being reactionary. We can be a constructive community, moving forward and addressing real social and spiritual needs. Let’s just think about the potential if we pool our money together to build endowments and hire trained people to manage them. Instead of each year our communities begging for what they need,  the continual fundraising can help us thrive and flower. 

September 4, 2011

Muslim Habitus

Filed under: Inspiration/Motivation, Islam, Knowledge, Sunnah, Uncategorized — Margari Aziza Hill @ 5:08 am

Over the past years, I realized that much of the spiritual problems I faced were largely due to my inability to bridge the disconnect between my intellectual knowledge and application of important principals.  The knowledge I gained was not transformative, so where was the misunderstanding?  Ali ibn Abi Talib said:

O you who carry knowledge around with you; are you only carrying it around with you ? For surely knowledge belongs to who ever knows and then acts accordingly, so that his action corresponds to his knowledge. There will be a people who will carry knowledge around with them, but it will not pass beyond their shoulders. Their inner most thoughts will contradict what they display in public, and their actions will contradict what they know.

Knowledge has not entered your heart until your legs, arms, and entire body act accordingly. There is a difference between knowledge and Muslim habits. The Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.) said: “I was only sent to perfect good character” [Muwatta' and Musnad of Ahmad]. The primary purpose of knowledge in Islam is so that it can influence the individual to the correct course of action. And the correct course of actions should be guided by an intention to do that which is pleasing to God. This contrasts with doing that which is pleasing to oneself or others and guided by one’s own inclinations.

How does knowledge of the traditions of Muhammad become part of the character of the average Muslim? It is through understanding, or as we educators tend to emphasize, application and practice of that knowledge. One of the most powerful ways of understanding this came to me while I was in graduate school and looking at Pierre Bourdieu’s theory of “habitus.” The simplest and most digestible definition of Habitus can be found on wikipedia:

Habitus is the set of socially learnt dispositions, skills and ways of acting, that are often taken for granted, and which are acquired through the activities and experiences of everyday life.

Habitus is a complex concept, but in its simplest usage could be understood as a structure of the mind characterized by a set of acquired schemata, sensibilities, dispositions and taste.

We are all creatures of habit (good and bad), but how do we develop them? How do we develop our tastes, dispositions, and inclinations?  These are important questions that we need to ask ourselves, especially if we are concerned with personal and moral development. Many of our habits are learned, while other arise out of our own inner inclinations. We can learn through mimicking others or through experience. At the same time, we can supress our inclinations and habits in order to yield different results.

But breaking bad habits or developing healthy habits can be a difficult thing, especially when we come to accept certain behaviors as part of our personality. For those of us who are self-reflective and want to change for the better, we have to make some conscious efforts to change many things that are often not really thought about.

The way we think shapes our actions, but our knowledge does not really penetrate our hearts until we set about a course of actions to embody those principles. I believe this is the problem with the over intellectualization of Islam. It is also the problem with the tendency of many Muslims to focus on political or social identity issues. There is a lack of embodiment of some important concepts. So, the way we should think about things is not changing our actions. At the same time, the ways we are doing things are not changing the ways our mind works. Somehow, our thoughts and actions become hollow. That embodiment only happens through rigor and training, which can take spiritual, mental, and physical components.  While we accept anyone who declares shahadah as Muslim, we recognize that there are different gradations of faith. In Surah 49 The Private Apartments, verse 14 God says:

The bedouins say, “We have believed.” Say, “You have not [yet] believed; but say [instead], ‘We have submitted,’ for faith has not yet entered your hearts. And if you obey Allah and His Messenger, He will not deprive you from your deeds of anything. Indeed, Allah is Forgiving and Merciful.”

This verse is very profound, because it highlights the key for that spiritual development. Faith is developed through obedience. And even if we are struggling, by taking those steps, we will be rewarded by the Most Forgiving and Merciful. Sometimes the steps can be small, the most prominent example is salat. In actuality the combined time for the salat is about 17 minutes. Even then, I see people struggle with the idea of submission and it becomes apparent in their forms of resistance to the requirements of ritual prayer.  How have you developed Muslim habitus, if you as a man would never come to a job interview in sagging shorts that expose your butt crack, but you will come to the King of all worlds dressed inappropriately? The perfection of the Muslim habitus is worshipping your Lord as if you see Him, but you cannot, knowing that He always sees you. This is Ihsan, or the perfection of faith. And many, myself included, have a lot of work in that area.

Moving away from outer garments in order to wrap up this discussion, I want to talk about a simple way to develop our Muslim habitus. The first friday sermon I heard my husband give shed light habit-practice-application. He brought up Michael Jordan and asked rhetorically what does he think when he was about to make a play. Marc answered that MJ doesn’t think. His body knew exactly what to do from all those hours of practice. This is the true meaning of understanding, a real embodiment of that knowledge in a way that it becomes a part of you. Without thinking, MJ knew exactly what to do at a given moment.  It reminds me of the final moments of a former principal of Philadelphia’s Clara Muhammad School.  She was in a car accident in Egypt and her family reported that while she awaited medical attention she remained in constant remembrance of God. Although she was in pain, her thoughts were on her Lord. In that moment during her final true test, she faced death with courage and grace. And I wondered how I would react. I thought about some words, which I won’t repeat here, that I’ve said when I had a close brush with death or something traumatic. I think back to the times I experienced severe pain. I wondered would my last act be recorded as having yelled vulgar language, crying about why me, or would I remember my Lord instead.  I realized that only through constant practice of remembrance and prayer that I out of habit, I would just do the right thing without thinking about it.

We practice and practice so that during a real moment when we are tested, our habitus goes into auto-pilot and we know just what to do without thinking. So as part of that development, I’m not going to ask God to damn the thing I stubbed my toe on. Instead I’ll say something glorying Him  (in English or Arabic). Whenever I get frustrated with something or someone, I’m going to avoid cursing at it.  I will ask God to help me deal with the situation with dignity and grace.  And importantly, I will learn the appropriate prayers for the appropriate times so that constant remembrance become a habit, therefore my Muslim habitus. By bringing God into center focus throughout the day, I can make steps towards embodying all that I have learned over the years.  This is the cognitive shift that happens with real transformation. My hope is that more of us move from just being members of the I verbally proclaim to submit (I’m just a Muslim)club , to become those who truly believe and  try to ultimately perfect our faith.

References:

Quran Sahih international http://quran.com/49/2-14

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Habitus_(sociology)

August 27, 2011

The Critical Thinking Muslim

                                                                                                —Image from ModDB 

“Knowing a great deal is not the same as being smart; intelligence is not information alone but also judgment, the manner in which information is collected and used.” – Carl Sagan

The Muslim world possesses a wealth of knowledge, especially in regards devotional literature, theology, and jurisprudence, yet we have not transformed our knowledge into thoughtful and well-executed ways of addressing our most pressing needs. Muslim communities throughout the world face a plethora of problems: poverty, authoritarianism, civil war, neo-colonialism, occupation, sectarianism, sexual exploitation, corruption, social inequality, civil war, natural disasters, etc. Even American Muslims, who are largely shielded from these perils, are challenged. We face a number of issues: cronyism, crime, domestic violence, poverty, ineptly run institutions, sexism, tribalism, infighting, isolationism, Islamophobia, and an inability to address the needs of marginalized members of our community. The American Muslim community is increasingly literate, with unprecedented access to traditional scholarship and information. Islamic institutions of learning are filled to the brim. Although the American Muslim community is predominantly middle class and highly literate, we somehow still seem ill equipped and are stuck in a quagmire (Pew). We are unable to talk to each other, work together, and develop a common vision. That special something is missing and that something is Critical thinking.

As Muslims, the command to “seek knowledge” is almost like a mantra. But how often are we encouraged to think on a higher level, let alone think critically? This is especially important to think about considering how God speaks of comprehension and thinking in the Quran. Tafakkur تفكر is the reflexive form of the root فكر, which means to reflect, meditate cogitate, ponder, muse, speculate. Tafakkur means to reflect, meditate cogitate, ponder muse speculate revolve in one’s mind, think over, contemplate, and consider. It is mentioned in the Quran 17 times. In Surah A-Rum verse 8 Allah says:

Do they not contemplate within themselves? Allah has not created the heavens and the earth and what is between them except in truth and for a specified term. And indeed, many of the people, in [the matter of] the meeting with their Lord, are disbelievers. (Sahih International)

The word for “Intellect” is ‘Aql عقل, meaning sense, sentience, reason, understanding, comprehension, discernment, insight, rationality, mind, intellect, intelligence. The verb form that we will see commonly used in Qur’an is عقل to be endowed with (the faculty of) reason, be reasonable, have intelligence, to be in one’s senses, be conscious, to realize, comprehend, and understand. In the 49 references of the word in the Qur’an, God often speaks of the disbelievers who do not comprehend.
In Surah Baqarah verse 276, Allah says:

And when they meet those who believe, they say, “We have believed”; but when they are alone with one another, they say, “Do you talk to them about what Allah has revealed to you so they can argue with you about it before your Lord?” Then will you not reason? (Sahih international)

Another important Arabic word that corresponds to critical thinking is the word for logic, منطق which means the faculty of speech, manner of speech, eloquence, diction, enunciation, logic. All three terms, are important to consider when we think of critical thinking. And, I will discuss later, we will see how Muslim scholars employed critical thinking in their struggle to determine what God intended for us to do when an issue was not explicitly stated in the Quran or Hadith literature. Critical thinking implies:

  •  that there is a reason or purpose to the thinking, some problem to be solved or question to be answered.
  • analysis, synthesis and evaluation of information (CTILAC)

Without these two, we were seriously hamstrung. While having the faculty for critical thinking, our community has either ignored its tradition of critical thinking or underdeveloped due to reactionary thinking. As a result, we are a bit hamstrung by our own intellectual deficiencies. I say this with all respect, because we have many knowledgeable people, but they are not good problem solvers and their analysis and evaluation of information is lacking.
As a result, we hit a number of roadblocks. Many Muslims see Islam as a monolith and try to impose their rigid and authoritarian models on others. Our leaders are unable to come up with solutions to problems that were never imagined by classical or early modern legal and religious scholars. Individuals with little experience in non-profit development or leadership, build institutions with little understanding of how to meet social needs. And lay members of our community lock horns in heated theological and juristic debates that take away from a sense of fellowship and coherent communities. Our communities are fragmented by endless polemics where labels and plastic words substitute for real engagement with our differences and our commonalities. All of these problems come about because critical thinking in Islamic studies and devotional education is not something that is valued within our community. Despite our undervaluing of it, there is a great need for critically thinking Muslims, from your average lay member of the community, leaders, and scholars.

If we understand our own legacy of critical thinking and continue to develop critical thinking at all levels of devotional and Islamic education, Muslims will be better equipped to deal with our most daunting challenges. Before going into our legacy of critical thinking, it is important to understand how the term is currently used. The term “Critical Thinking” encompasses a wide array of ways of thinking and processing information. Scriven and Paul write, “Critical thinking is the intellectually disciplined process of actively and skillfully conceptualizing, applying, analyzing, synthesizing, and/or evaluating information gathered from, or generated by, observation, experience, reflection, reasoning, or communication, as a guide to belief and action.” In my experience of teaching, from a high school to college level classes, the most important tool I have tried to help my students develop has been critical thinking. One of the best ways of seeing critical thinking in action was to have students write research papers with sound arguments. That is because “in essence, critical thinking is a disciplined manner of thought that a person uses to assess the validity of something (statements, news stories, arguments, research, etc.)” (Adsit). But I often found that most students lacked not only discipline and curiosity, but also an interest in developing their higher order thinking abilities. Instead, they often focused on trying to get the right answer, rather than learning to analyze, synthesize, and evaluate information. When students don’t think well, they don’t write well. Writing is a higher order level of thinking, but anyone can write without thinking, just as someone can speak without thinking on a subject. But eloquent and logical speeches and well written papers reflect disciplined critical thinking. And both can be subject to critique by others who are keen to see logical fallacies, misuse of sources, or failure to include other factors.

Critical thinking is something that develops with practice. It is something we have to train for. Scriven and Paul write that critical thinking is a set of skills that help us “process and generate information and beliefs.” They also a “habit,” or inclination based on intellectual commitment, “of using those skills to guide behavior.” Critical thinking helps an individual recognize the following:

i. patterns and provides a way to use those patterns to solve a problem or answer a question
ii. errors in logic, reasoning, or the thought process
iii. what is irrelevant or extraneous information
iv. preconceptions, bias, values and the way that these affect our thinking. that these preconceptions and values mean that any inferences are within a certain context
v. ambiguity – that there may be more than one solution or more than one way to solve a problem.” (CTILAC)

Critical thinking is not limited to subjects, so religious thinking has also benefited from critical thinking and in fact, our own tradition of scholarship shines due to our classical medieval scholars’ commitment to critical thinking. One very insightful friend of mine reminded me that we go to college and pay for the skills that our classical scholars had developed. While people outside of the academy have natural inclinations towards certain aspects of critical thinking, often those skills are sharpened and refined during the process of learning a discipline. There is a stark difference between the ways someone like Suhaib Webb discusses a topic, drawing on his years of study and a lay member of the community. People recognize disciplines such as astrophysics and medicine, but often experts on subjects involving in the human experience are not as respected. And people will delve into these subjects without the requisite critical skills or mental rigor to truly engage with them. I found this out as I went into graduate school and developed my field of expertise on Islam in Africa and African History. Friends and family members would discuss a subject and if somehow my view did not agree with theirs and I explained my stance, I would experience their resentment. I learned to be quiet for the sake of peace, even if a loved one was speaking on an issue they were largely ignorant about. Our own willful ignorance in our community is especially detrimental to developing critical thinking. This is especially the case in terms of how some groups of Muslims overlook the 1400 year legacy of critical thinking and scholarship that has allowed our tradition to maintain continuity without a central body or leader to guide it.

Before I took my first course on Fiqh (Islamic Jurisprudents) at Zaytuna in the late 90s, I had no idea about the rich legacy of critical thinking in Islam. I learned about the skills qualified jurists needed to draw on the Quran, Sunna (Prophetic traditions), scholarly consensus, and qiyas (analogy) to come up with rulings on new issues. That basic class whet my appetite on the study of Usul al-Fiqh (Sources of Islamic Jurisprudence), which I later studied a bit in graduate school. Usul al-Fiqh is concerned with the source of Islamic law and methodology in which legal rules are deduced. Kamali explains that the process by which scholars use to deduce sources to try to understand Shariah, Holy Law, is ijtihad. (1). The rules of fiqh use various methods of reasoning, including “analogy (qiyas), juristic preference (istihsan), presumption of continuity (istishab), and rules of interpretations and deduction.” In essence, Kamali points out that Usul al-Fiqh provides standard criteria for deriving correct rulings from the sources (2). However this standard of criteria is now overlooked by many who use ijtihad to come up with convenient rules that can lead to one of two extremes: ultra-liberal positions based on Western inclinations and not on Quran and Sunnah or ultra-conservative positions that purport to be derived strictly from Quran and Sunnah but violate the spirit of Islam.

Before delving further into this discussion, I must admit that I feel woefully ill equipped to engage in any Usuli debate on some religious issue. However, I find that many Muslims will become locked into debates that were never solved by our most gifted jurists. Often lay Muslims, with access to translations of the Quran and volumes of hadith, in addition to treatises and polemics, will derive their own rulings on religious matters based on their understanding of a Quranic verse or a hadith. According to Kamali, historically “the need for methodology became apparent when unqualified persons attempt to carry out ijtihad, and the risk of error and confusion in the development of Shari‘ah became a source of anxiety for the ‘ulama” (4). As a champion of inquiry and free thinking, it is difficult for me to openly admit that I understand their anxiety. But the reality is that our community is struggling with a crisis of authority, and that is mainly who has the authoritative voice in interpreting Islamic law.

The independent, thinking Muslim may feel like he/she is engaging in critical thinking when approaching the highest sources. However, a critical piece is missing. Ebrahim Moosa writes “… untrained in the various exegetical and interpretive traditions, lay people are not aware that a complex methodology is applicable to materials dealing with law, even if these are stated in the revelation” (121). Most lay Muslims are not trained in the language or historical context to know whether a verse was a commandment to a specific group of people at a specific time or to all Muslims of all times. Nor do they always know whether a verse was simply a statement of fact at a historical moment. Similarly, Muslims will use a statement of the Prophet (s.a.w.) without any context or understanding if it was a religious injunction and apply it to their lives. While ignoring aspects of that scholastic tradition, they will draw on it to reject a hadith and say it is da’if (weak). Or they might draw on the polemical writings of a classical author to dismiss the ideas of another tradition. Yet, they often draw on these traditions in sloppy ways that result in more confusion. Sadly, this is because many of the polemical books were written, not for lay people, but for other people who have the requisite skills and training in evaluating and analyzing sources and discipline in reason and logic.

This does not mean that a lay member of the community solely rely upon someone else’s critical thinking, rather that we recognize our own limitations in our knowledge and training and leave open some room for ambiguity. Perhaps we shouldn’t be so willing to condemn others if we don’t have the skills to even assess the validity of their stances. This requires humility which many, me included, often lack. Humility is an important part of sincerity, which is an important component of purifying our intentions before going about any endeavor. When I first converted to Islam and read my few dozen books, I felt a lot more sound in my knowledge than I do now. I didn’t know how much I didn’t know or my deficiencies in training. The more I learn, the more I realize how much I don’t know. The less arrogant I feel about my own knowledge and the more in awe I feel of those scholars who wrote without laptops and cut and paste. Even as we have unprecedented levels of literacy in our community, we must fight narrow mindedness and gathering up of information without being able to judge and assess or use that information for the greater good. And through developing our critical thinking, that Islam is more expansive, rather than restrictive and reactionary. Our greater comprehension through this intellectual struggle will be a truly enriching and humbling experience.

[Note: In order to keep this article digestible, I will continue to develop the themes in later posts to explore other aspects of critical thinking in our community. So, please consider this a part 1 of a longer series. ]

References
Adsit, Karen I. “Teaching Critical Thinking Skills”

http://academic.udayton.edu/legaled/ctskills/ctskills01.htm

retrieved August 13, 2011

CTILAC Faculty Critical Thinking & Information Literacy Across the Curriculum http://bellevuecollege.edu/lmc/ilac/critdef.htm11/18/98. Retrieved from Internet August 13, 2011

Foundation for Critical Thinking “Critical Thinking Professional Development for K-12” http://www.criticalthinking.org/professionalDev/k12.cfm
retrieved from the internet August 20, 2011

Kamali, Mohammad Hashim. Principles of Islamic Jurisprudence. Islamic Texts Society, Cambridge, UK, 2003

Moosa, Ebrahim. “The Debts and Burdens of Critical Islam” Progressive Muslims: On Justice, Gender, and Pluralism. One World Publication, 2003

Pew Research. “Muslim Americans: Middle Class and Mostly Mainstream.” May 22, 2007

The Quran: Sahih International Almunatada Alislami; Abul Qasim Publishing House http://quran.com

Scriven, Michael and Paul, Richard. “A Working Definition of critical thinking by Michael Scriven and Richard Paul” http://lonestar.texas.net/~mseifert/crit2.html
Retrieved August 10, 2010

August 19, 2011

Women and Mosque Leadership

Please take a moment to fill out my survey for a piece I want to write on perceptions of women’s leadership in the mosque.

Click here to take survey

August 15, 2011

Towards Thinking of the New Imam

Filed under: Muslim Communities in America — Margari Aziza Hill @ 11:14 am

IMAM noun, often capitalized \i-ˈmäm, ē-ˈ, -ˈmam\ 1: the prayer leader of a mosque 2: a Muslim leader of the line of Ali held by Shiites to be the divinely appointed, sinless, infallible successors of Muhammad : any of various rulers that claim descent from Muhammad and exercise spiritual and temporal leadership over a Muslim region

This definition provides us with the meaning of imam within three contexts. Within the sunni tradition, imam  means a political successor to Muhammad, a synonym to Caliph. But most of us American Muslims use imam to refer to the Muslim who leads congregational prayers. Any man can lead prayer, but it is often preferred that the person who can recite the Quran correctly. Women can lead other women in prayer, so in this sense any woman can become an imam.   It is also the honorific title we give to someone who leads a community and this is the meaning of imam that I am talking about. I’m primarily concerned with the current state and future of American Muslim leadership. While there may be a rare woman led community, most are run by a Muslim man who has either been hired by a masjid board or self-appointed in a break away community. An imam functions much in the same way as a rabbi or a parish priest, however there are no qualifications set for the training of imams. There are many knowledgeable and skilled imams;there are some who have limited or training. Some communities have imported imams from overseas who may have memorized the Quran and studied Islamic sciences but have very little knowledge of American society. And within the Black American community, a number of imams are charismatic leaders who are able to gather a large following and are effective mobilizers. While each has their merits, both models still fail at serving the needs of the Muslim community. And both tend to alienate large sections of their congregations, particularly women.

Several Muslim thinkers have argued that an imam needs to understand the social context of America. They have argued that some formal school in fields such as sociology would help.  I want to move beyond the intellectual understanding to what’s going on and look at the training that would go not into intellectualizing the American Muslim community, but serving the American Muslim community. So as I think about the future of our community leadership, in an ongoing conversation, I wanted to point out some skills or training that would improve our masjid leadership. The following list are skill sets that an American imam should have:

1. Enough religious training to teach the congregation and  maintain authority as an imam.

An imam does not have to be a member of the ulema, but he should have enough skills to be effective. This means that the imam should be able to properly recite Quran and have a firm foundation in devotional education  to teach his congregation and maintain his authority. This means that he should have spent considerable time dedicated to formal and informal religious study. And this does not entail spending years abroad kicking rocks, but rather some time  gaining ijazat (permissions to teach from qualified scholars) or shahadah (certificates testifying to competency). Or some other religious authorities can ascertain the imam’s mastery of certain subjects such as Usul al-Fiqh (roots of Islamic jurisprudence), Tajweed (Quranic phonetics), etc. Perhaps in the future, we can have an imam certification process and basic tests to ascertain whether an imam can functionally lead others. But, as I said, the imam doesn’t have to be a major scholar. He can defer the most challenging questions to specialists. The imam should also be able to quickly find resources or resourceful people who he can turn to whenever he doesn’t know something.

2. Spiritual Guidance and Counseling/ Marriage Counseling training

A good imam should not only understand religious and spiritual issues, but he should be well equipped to deal with people coming to them to help them solve their personal problems.  But many imams do not understand the emotional or psychological states that affect the religious life of many of their congregants. An imam should be concerned with developing the moral and ethical conduct of his congregation and not just lecturing people or making them feel bad. Muslims need action programs, improvement programs, and if the community is unable to provide it the imam should be able to refer an individual to the proper resources to get the help that he/she needs. Also, imams are often bombarded with marriage and family problems, as marriage is one of our biggest challenges. There are some imams who are excellent at dealing with marriage crises, but most communities fail at addressing marital disputes. In many ways, there needs to be ongoing training in couples counseling to help develop communication skills and increase intimacy and happiness in marital life.

3. Critical Thinking skills

Basically, the imam should have enough formal education so that he not only  reads and writes well, but thinks well too.  He should be able to interpret Islamic texts and practices in ways that are meaningful for the congregation. We suffer from imams who are reactionary or do not have the requisite skills to address the needs of the community. The imam should be able to develop positions based on authoritative texts and clear logic, rather than on emotions or the daleel of shame (i.e. “AstaghfurAllah”).  The imam should also be able to take in various positions and understand the nuance of broader issues that face the community. An  imam should be able to deal with contemporary issues and communicate with the broader population in a way that would be effective.

4. Leadership training

There is more to leadership than being able to captivate an audience. Instead, leadership is a complex set of skills, including but not limited to the list below:

  • Language and ability to inspire
  • Teamwork building
  • Goal Setting and Project management
  • Communication skills (not just speaking but listening)
  • Problem solving and decision making skills
  • Conflict Resolution and Conflict Management
  • Task Delegation
  • Ethics
  • Financial planning
  • Organizational development
  • Group psychology/dynamics
  • Self discipline and awareness of leadership principles

With these four points, we can find possible areas to develop an effective Muslim American leadership. When I was in New Haven in January, I spoke with some brothers and sisters who were interested in developing a Muslim seminary. Right now we have a problem with funding, so a brick and mortar operation may be costly. But there are alternative programs that we can consider that may include summer intensive classes and online and distance study. What we need are people who are experts in their field to contribute to a joint project to develop our leadership with the highest of standards. And we need more institutions of learning that will help raise the overall Islamic literacy of Muslims. So, let us be creative and think of moving towards a new model of Muslim leadership. Our focus should not be on  creating a rock star imams or reproducing drones who have memorized traditional texts, but creating leaders who will guide have the skills to deal with the daily problems we face today and lead us into a productive and blessed future.

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