Don’t Hate Me Because I’m Muslim and My Hair isn’t Blonde and Long

By Leila | Age 12 | New York

Dear fellow Americans, my name is Leila.

I am a Black Muslim girl born and raised in Harlem. Living in Harlem, we do not experience a lot of racism. Harlem is a neighborhood that is diverse. There are mosques, synagogues and churches, and people who take public transportation to work and others who drive Tesla. Most of the people that live in Harlem are Black like me. But my sisters and I attend elite White schools outside of Harlem because in New York City the best schools are in White communities.

My little 7-year-old sister attends one of the most prestigious ballet schools in New York City, the School of American Ballet. She once dreamed to become a ballet dancer like Misty Copeland, until she was racially assaulted in a cafe by students.

We often have dinner at Lincoln Center after my sister’s ballet class. This day there were some college students from Julliard who decided to sit at a table across from us talking about Muslims and how we wear “rags” on our heads, and they pointed at my mother’s head scarf as an example. They kept talking about us the same way White people talked about slaves in the movie about Harriett Tubman. Like Harriett Tubman, my mom held her anger and tears. But, then one kid said: “Black people have big lips and noses and nappy hair”. He was going to pull up a picture of a Black person on Google, but then said, “I don’t need an example.”

“Leaving behind nights of terror and fear, I rise, into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear, I will rise.”

Maya Angelou, “I Will Rise”

They kept staring at us and started giggling. We were the only Black people in the café, so they obviously were talking about us. My mom could not stand what they were saying and politely approached them to address their inappropriate behavior. They responded aggressively and said it was “Freedom of Speech”. My mom immediately took all of our stuff and told the security guards about what happened. They said that they could not do anything about it.

My 7-year-old sister was really traumatized thinking people see her as ugly because of her dark skin and short hair. She told my mom that she was not pretty enough to do ballet because she is not White with long hair. My mom tells her she is beautiful and shows her successful Black women with dark skin. It has not worked, and she is too afraid to return to ballet.

My mother always has told us that we can be whoever we want to be. But, I was blind not to see that racism also exists in New York City. In our home, we have Lupita Nyong’o’s quote, “No matter where you are from, your dreams are valid”. We also have Maya Angelou’s poem “I Will Rise”. My favorite stanza: “Leaving behind nights of terror and fear, I rise, into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear, I will rise.”

My sister is only 7. I’m hoping she will rise because we are Muslim and not White with long hair, we are not less than anyone else.