This week, I had a life changing experience.

Travis Biechele
7 min readMar 31, 2017

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Our differences make America great already. (photo cred johnlund.com)

Two nights ago, I attended a speaking event from UW’s Distinguished Lecture Series titled Islamophobia in America. Iranian-American Reza Aslan, an acclaimed thinker, writer, professor, speaker, and advocate for basic human rights, spoke about a topic that is…hot hot hot.

For the last two months, Americans have lived in a general state of turmoil. For some, that turmoil has been painted in utter disgust of the stories presented in mainstream media. For others, great uncertainty about protection of their civil liberties. For others still, angst about grand promises made along a long and winding campaign trail. I’m talking about the Great Transition — the shift from the Obama administration to the current one.

Aslan’s presentation was not a Trump-bashing one. Rather, it was an exposé on the current state of the nation. In particular, it focused on why we, as a country, have such a profound, yet indescribable fear of Muslims around us, both in the United States and abroad.

Over the course of an hour, he offered a wealth of facts and data points that supported an argument of severe, anti-Muslim, anti-Islamic, anti-other prejudice in this nation today. It was very compelling. Empirical data aside, there were two, more subjective notions that struck a chord.

Before I dive into those, it is important that I disclose that I am a white, Catholic-raised, middle class male in my twenties. I grew up in a privileged existence, attending private school from kindergarten through high school and then an out-of-state university — all without a financial concern in the world. For all intents and purposes, I belong to the “problem” majority. That said, I attended the lecture with the goal of listening and learning, nothing more. I left with a profound realization that I have a unique ability to enact change. (I’ll get to that later.)

The first idea from Dr. Aslan:

There exists a normative assumption that “radical Islamic terrorism” is persistent and representative. Let me explain. Over 75% of the U.S. is Christian, and for now, the majority of the country is white/Caucasian. (I am truly excited for a future where America becomes the first ever majority minority nation. How amazingly cool would that be!?) People tend to surround themselves with like-minded and like-looking peers, thus creating this insular, artificial bubble of what is normal. Assuming you a white and raised Christian, how many Muslim families or even individuals do you know? How many would you consider close, personal friends? Admittedly I have very few, though not for conscious lack of trying. This means that my frame of reference is predominantly white and Christian. Should I see or hear of an extreme act of violence or prejudice from a white, Christian person, it stands out, and I can easily identify it as extreme. I might quickly classify that person as an outlier, clearly not representative of the majority of happy, peaceful white Christian Americans. Many of us fall into this assumptive trap.

Now the flip-side. Just 1% of Americans are Muslim. Yes, just 1%. The same ideas outlined above apply to their own communities, but let’s consider the cross-community perspective. If a Muslim person performs an extreme act of violence or prejudice, the overwhelming majority of white, Christian Americans are quick to identify this as an extreme, Islam-induce act of terror. However, these white Christians have no valid frame of reference. We simply do not have the exposure to make that call. We do not immerse ourselves in the Muslim culture or faith. Certainly, we do not have the scholarly background to understand the nuances of the faith. If the small sample of happenstance Muslim violent acts are ALL that we see, it is natural to conclude that this is the norm. We might conclude that all or many Muslim people are unstable, violent beings. This is so fundamentally wrong and terribly sad.

The second idea from Dr. Aslan:

Prejudice against any faith-based or culturally-based minority is NOT based in ignorance, a lack of understanding (or exposure to) the facts; it is based in fear. Undoubtedly, we have all met or seen people that are unequivocally intelligent and thoroughly educated but hold on tightly to prejudiced or bigoted ideas. The problem is not education. Nor is it exposure to the facts. It is plainly and simply fear. It is a basic human instinct to fear the unknown, but it is thoroughly dangerous to enact policies or even laws based on fear.

When we are frightened, we can become blind to reason and the facts. Who cares that 60 of the 89 reported domestic acts of terror last year were committed by right-wing, white supremacist groups and individuals? Who cares that only 1% of the nation is Muslim? Who cares that the current administration is composed of leaders of actual, established hate groups, white Christians, and billionaire business-people?

There is a rampant, blind fear of the unknown that persists today. It is not some huge, fundamental shift, however. This is a pattern we have seen repeated throughout history. Find one maligned group essentially at any point in time, and you will find a corresponding group in power that is driven by fear. Unfortunately, history does repeat itself.

Sadly, the media plays into this. There is a very real reason why “when it bleeds, it leads.” The news is designed to educate us about risks in the world, dangers to avoid. It is not necessarily designed to celebrate the greatness of a community or the inspiring act of one person. Sure, the stories exist, but they are relegated to the final five-minute wrap up or mid-hour split. The stories that heighten the senses and pump adrenaline dominate the average news hour. You might argue that there is a societal benefit to this, that bringing danger to light is helpful for the average person. This comes at a cost. If we become attracted, in a way, to the bad and the frightening, then we become conditioned to ascribing a higher value to that content. The reality and presence of goodness around us…falls to the wayside.

So what can we possibly do about this?

I mentioned before that as the lecture came to a close, I realized that I have the ability enact change. To an extent, I went into the presentation with that very question. According to Dr. Aslan, change starts by asking yourself, What kind of America do you want to live in? He concluded with this before he took questions from the audience. I walked home, asking myself What kind of America DO I want to live in? Should I live in constant fear, knowing that self-preservation is paramount in life? Not a chance.

Aslan presented a strategy that is very simple at surface level. In practice, it makes the average individual a bit vulnerable, if in no other way than socially so. Here it is. Challenge yourself to develop real, personal relationship with Muslim people, and really any person in a minority group around you. It is far more difficult to hate someone you know intimately than to hate someone that you assume is dangerous. In reality, you have little exposure to that person, their ideas, their culture, or their faith. What hateful grounds can you stand on if that person is your friend.

This sounds so simple. It’s something our elementary school teachers would tell us as we left for recess. Now class, remember to play nicely with others… Somewhere along the way, we lose our youthful acceptance of the unknown. We are not born with prejudice, we develop it. We allow all sorts of inputs, stimuli, and media to steer our thinking, and we rarely stop to reflect. We rarely question our preconceived notions of a person, faith-based community, or “other” idea. Different is not bad; different created this country.

I don’t have a “starting tomorrow” type of strategy. Rather, I have an improved outlook on life and on America. I can start with me and my attitude. When opportunity presents itself, I am better equipped to have a real conversation with those who think differently. I can welcome differing cultures, not fear them, and I now know why this is so important.

Perhaps most importantly, I feel empowered to curtail the spread of fear. When I hear people regurgitating a headline, tweet, or mistranslated conversation, I can have a real conversation. I can pressure them to identify the core of the problem, not the superficial coating. I can challenge them to reflect on their own opinions, see if they originate from facts or fear.

I’ll depart with this famous quote, one that we all have heard countless times before. A man delivered this during a speech during the grips of the Great Depression, and years before evil and racism would envelop the better part of Europe and the Far East.

So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is…fear itself — nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance. In every dark hour of our national life a leadership of frankness and of vigor has met with that understanding and support of the people themselves which is essential to victory.

Thank you, FDR. This is as perfectly relevant today as it was 84 years and 27 days ago. Let’s not repeat history this time.

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Travis Biechele

Thinker, writer, athlete, cook, teller of dad jokes, and soup enthusiast.