Ramadan is upon us.
As far back as I am able to recall memories, my father has remained consistent on one of the time-honored traditions to kick off the holiest month on the Islamic calendar — the moon sighting.
Every year, on the prospective eve of what marks the start of Ramadan (the 9th month of the Islamic calendar that Muslims observe through fasting, prayer, and service to humankind) our dad heads outside to a clearing with night sky visibility to see if he can spot the new, crescent moon. …
My name is Sara Ahmed.
I am American. I am the daughter of Indian Muslim Immigrants.
My parents, like most South Asians, came to the shores of this country by choice. Not by the chains of chattel slavery. But by the legislation of the Civil Rights Movement.
I was born and grew up on stolen, Indigenous land — through looting and by genocide.
There is no denying that I am here before you today because of a legacy of Black agitators and activists who fought and died over centuries for liberation and to deracialize American policies. …
This post was inspired by my forever mentor text, The Players’ Tribune.
Dear Young Sara,
It’s May 2019. You’ve built a career made of passion and mentors. You are invited into spaces as a “diverse” voice in the field to speak on themes of identity, inquiry, literacy, culture, and social comprehension. You’ve rewritten your life’s trajectory. And you know where true love can be found — in your family and in New York City.
You should be proud. And you should be grateful.
And since brown adults like to keep brown kids they love humble, allow me to share some hard-to-face truths with you about the road…