After the terrorist attacks
in America its society has changed. Asfareen Athar writes
about a friend in Ohio who lives under constant fear of
reprisals of being a Muslim.
On a sunny Friday afternoon at lunchtime the main street
inLebanon, a little town in Ohio, USA, bustled with well-dressed
people. Office-goers and families strolled down the sidewalk
past the town's oldbrick buildings which dated back to
the colonial era. They disappeared inside charming restaurants
overlooking the avenue or stopped to browse at the antique
stores, for which the town is well-known.
Three of us were sightseeing; a friend
visiting from England and I had driven down from Canada
to meet a friend. The Ohio friend brought us to this quaint
place, with a population of 15,000, which long ago was
a Shaker village and stage-coach stop. The route had wound
through rolling countryside dotted with neat houses visible
through trees. We came to the town and parked near a historic
hotel.
The antique shops on the main avenue carried
an assortment of worn-out items that most of us have trouble
disposing of in a garage sale - crockery with cracks and
rusty baking dishes - but there were also expensive china
pieces, paintings and embroidered linens. The friend from
England purchased a lithograph of a meeting hall of bygone
days. It showed a blue, wood-building set amid tall, leafy
trees and green grass, resembling the wood cabins around
these parts.
The town had a pleasant atmosphere yet
our smartly-dressed hostess was observant of everything,
noting how one or two passersby glanced our way curiously.
We saw nothing amiss but her unease was palpable. Though
relatively light skinned and wearing a dress with loose,
shoulder length hair, she seemed conscious of being non-white
and a Muslim in the all-white populace of this historic
town. She looked relieved when we ended our exploring
and headed back to the cosmopolitan town where she lives
in a comfortable large home in the suburbs.
Afterwards we wanted to go see the centre
of the city, where her husband works, but our hostess
adamantly refused. "Oh, I never go downtown."
We next proposed a visit to one of the exclusive suburban
malls nearby but she expressed concern about that too,
talking of a changed society.
Our trip was a reunion of sorts but we
had come a long way and wanted to see more than just the
inside of her house. In face of our blithe disregard,
she was forced to take us out but was uneasy and one began
to see a siege mentality developing. This mall was patronized
by mostly well-to-do mainstream people and had few minorities
and immigrants.
Her friends and neighbours have not shown
any prejudicial attitudes nor has she actually encountered
any intolerance directly but she lives in anticipation
of it because of what she hears and reads. Her life carries
on but she hesitates in the daily actions which before
required no thought at all. The atmosphere is different
now; there are undercurrents of suspicion as an aftermath
of the terrorist attacks. Many long settled, moderate
Muslims who have adapted to the dress, style and manners
of the US are becoming wary of the social attitudes, fearful
of confrontations and reprisals.
She related a story to us with dismay.
One of her Muslim acquaintances and another woman had
been out shopping in a mall a few days earlier. They had
been conversing amongst themselves in their native language
when a white woman accosted them. The latter rebuked them
and told them to speak English saying, "You are in
America now, so you should speak the American language."
The acquaintance replied in English that she would speak
in whatever language she wished. The woman reiterated
her point; a quarrel ensued. My friend shuddered, "I
would never get into these debates. It is better to ignore
such remarks."
We did see some glimpses of nationalism
earlier at the US border when the English friend wanted
to pay her visa-waiver-fee in a foreign currency. "Do
you take pounds? No, then what about euros? How about
a credit card?" she persisted. The armed border guard
was already eyeing her cagily. He became exasperated,
pointed to a sign saying 'America,the land of glory' and
growled "This is America," accepting the US$7
I offered.
The whole time we were there, the American
friend was conscious of her clothes, the language she
spoke in public and her behaviour. She feels like an outsider,
trying to fit into society and not stand out. At her place
of work, an educational institution, her co-workers have
displayed understanding and acceptance of religious minorities.
She had always been conscientious about participating
in important traditions and other culturally significant
occasions such as the Easter celebrations, but now she
does not miss any for fear of being branded an intolerant
person.
Her expectations regarding her daughter's
career plans are changing. The high school student had
enrolled in a special evening programme through her school
for children who hoped to fulfill their goals. Her goal
was to be a scientist but when she talks of wanting to
pursue her dreams of joining NASA, her mother tells her
to give up the idea. "Be realistic," she says
dismissively to the friend from England who considers
it worth a try, "such plans are not likely to work
out." She remains doubtful that in the present political
climate opportunities for minorities, and Muslims, would
be the same as before.
That evening one of her friends, a local
American, called to say she had spotted her on the main
street in Lebanon, and had come out of the restaurant
to look for us. She had not found us, possibly because
we had gone into the antique store. For a little while
our hostess felt better for having overcome her fears
and ventured into a bastion of white culture, but the
mood did not last.
After dinner, we were sitting
outside on the patio in her large garden, talking about
unimportant matters, such as husbands, when her backyard
inhibitions sprang up. She lowered her own voice and asked
us not to talk too loudly in case we disturb the neighbours,
though there were none to be seen.
