In the fall of 2007, I was asked to write a profile piece for a journalism class. With the deadline just before the anniversary of September 11, 2001, I decided to profile someone directly affected by the attacks.
…Being in the middle of southern Indiana made this a bit more difficult.
‘I remember I was ______ when it happened’ was an all too predictable storyline. Most people felt passionately about that day and their experience, but who didn’t? It was probably the most significant day in American history in 60 years and was THE defining moment of my generation to date (even beating out electing the first minority president).
Fortunately, I had a friend named Saud Rana, a Pakistani immigrant who grew up in the small farm town of Plymouth, Indiana. Before this interview, we had not really discussed, in depth, his religion or his experience with September 11. Prior conversations with him about Islam were mostly superficial and any discussions about September 11 were brief and unmemorable.
The story that follows is that original story from 2 years ago, edited slightly to read better. I thought back then - and still think today - that the issue at the heart of this story was one of great importance. Few know what it is like to have your life change overnight.
Especially when it changes because of attacks you did not commit, for beliefs you do not hold and by people you do not agree with.
September, 2007 | Bloomington, In
September 11 didn’t have the same ramifications for Saud Rana that it did for most people in Plymouth, Indiana. Rana’s life changed that day because of the actions of people he has never met and the changing opinions of an American public.
“It never really struck me that I was different until September 11,” said Rana, a sophmore at Indiana University. Born in Pakistan but raised from an early age in the small town of Plymouth, Rana and his family were one of the few non-white Christians in town.
Sticking out like cow in a corn field, Rana was questioned as a child about his nationality and his faith on a regular basis.
“But it never really made an impact,” said Rana, until the events on September 11.
Soon after the attacks, Rana began to notice a change in how his neighbors began to view him.
“I believe that people took more of an interest in me,” said Rana. Now he was longer just a mere oddity, a queer but endearing quirk in an otherwise normal farming community. To some, his nationality and religion became a significant topic.
“I didn’t think it was actually going to personally affect me,” admitted Rana about the September 11 attacks. “It hit me hard just like everybody else.”
Before classes began the next day, Rana was called to the principal’s office. When the principal told Rana to report people who gave him a hard time, it dawned on Rana that he might get blowback for something that he had felt just as deeply about and experienced just as painfully as the people who might attack him.
“Most adults and my close friends were all supportive,” said Rana, but that didn’t stop bullies from terrorizing him for who he was and what he believed.
“I think the worst was when I was pulled aside once by two huge guys and they asked me about what I thought about September 11 and at first I thought it was a joke,” Rana said chuckling. “I remember laughing, I was like, ‘what are you talking about?’ but they were serious.”
Rana was forced into assuring those two classmates that he was not a terrorist and that he did not approve of the actions of a fanatical minority.
While Rana’s older sisters went through similar situations in high school, no one in the Rana household may have felt the brunt of the September 11 backlash like Rana’s father.
As the owner of a local chain hotel franchise, guests who filled out satisfaction questionnaires often wrote racist remarks along the lines of, ‘they should get an American to run this place instead.’
Dr. Shahid Athar, president of The Islamic Medical Association of North America, wrote an article shortly after the attacks about what it is like to be a Muslim in a post September 11 United States.
“The joy of being a Muslim in America is gone, at least for now,” Athar wrote in the article published on IslamForToday.com. “All the progress we have made in the last 30 years is being reversed. We have to start all over again.”
According to Athar, more than just the World Trade Center was attacked that day, American Islam, itself, was attacked.
“About 500 Muslims died in the WTC tragedy and the rest of [the American Muslims] became hostage to the fear, intimidation and insecurity about their future,” said Athar.
Athar states that while Muslims of his generation wonder if they should return to the countries they came from, it is his children’s generation – Rana’s generation – that have no place to go because, “this is their home.”
Rana and his family believe in this sentiment and have tried to stay positive. They fought through the negative reaction of some in their community and soon enough, things started to improve. However, looking back on it, Rana said he had no idea how September 11 would impact his family.
“I didn’t think it would affect us as much as it has.”
“Saud was always an outgoing person but when I met him in November 2003, [being Muslim] didn’t come up that often,” said Clara Houin, a resident of Plymouth a friend of Rana’s.
Former college roommate and close friend, Steve Blemker would agree. After a few days living with Rana as a freshman, Blemker found out, in passing, that Rana was Muslim.
“I didn’t care all that much,” said Blemker. “I had known him for a few days already and I got to know his personality. The first message I got from him on Facebook was something along the lines of, ‘we’re going to have a great time. Don’t worry about duct tape, I have a roll, so I have duct tape covered.’ I just thought I was living with a weird duct tape kid.”
Both Houin and Blemker agree that Rana’s personality is what they saw first before they saw race or religion. People like Rana and Athar can only hope that this is a sign of things to come for American Muslims; a quick return to a life that is not bogged down by the unrelenting weight of prejudice and ignorance.
Unfortunately, Rana knows first hand that people are still uneducated and that there is still a burden to bear.
“I remember reading in a text book that Sunnis and Shi’a have disliked each other since Islam came about,” said Rana, a Sunni Muslim, getting visibly upset. “My first cousins are Shi’a and I don’t hate my cousins.”
To him, this vast oversimplification symbolizes the ignorance many Americans have about Islam. And rather than shedding light on the situation, Rana feels that September 11 has helped to cast a shadow over what people learn – or choose to learn – about the Muslim faith.
“No one really knew about Islam before it happened,” Rana said. “The blame doesn’t lie anywhere, its just distorted images from the media and excerpts from history books that kids bring home.”
“I don’t have anything against anybody and I don’t disdain…” Rana says pausing to keep his emotions in check. “I love this country, I consider myself an American, but it’s inevitable you’re going to run into people who are unbelievable in the way they think.”
“I’d like to say that my family and I have worked in the town to make people understand that we’re not all like the fanatics from that part of the world.” Rana said.
“Toward the end of high school, there were a few families around town that, I’m pretty sure, were competing to see who could get me to convert first,” Rana said only half kidding. “They understand that I know who I am and that I’m not a bad person but it’s like they fear Islam will corrupt me. They’re all good people; it’s just a lack of education on the topic itself.”
“As-Salāmu `Alaykum.” The first and last words out of Rana’s mouth on his nightly chat with his mother beautifully sum up what he believes his faith is rooted in: ‘Peace be upon you.’
But Rana knows, intimately, the affect September 11 had on Islam and Muslim Americans.
“I lost my best friend because of it. His mother didn’t want him to hang around with me,” said Rana.
But the tide is turning. Rana says that Islam’s message of peace is finding root all over America, including Plymouth.
“People have come to understand that you can’t just believe what you hear.”
