All the Light We Can See

Bits of candle wax, purple and red, were still visible on the curb outside of our apartment building.    Two weeks earlier, my daughter Aster, her friend Gabriela  and I held a vigil, holding  candles up to a night sky that was eerily silent.  All  flights  from O’Hare and Midway had been cancelled.  Whenever a driver honked,  I felt  some comfort, knowing we shared the  horror and grief of our entire nation. The girls were energized  whenever a car honked. And most did.  Feeling  powerless in the face of such overwhelming tragedy, this was something I could do.  We could do together.

 Twenty years earlier, I worked on the 34th floor of World Trade Center Two for a French import-export company.  The actual job was pretty tedious, composing letters about taxes on imports and sending Telexes to partners ( Fax machines did not even exist in the late 70s.) But it was fun to speak French.  As a young woman from the Midwest, I was proud that I found my place  in this auspicious building in Lower Manhattan.                        

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At the elementary school where  my younger daughter and her brother attended, students were pulled inside  from recess on a beautiful Tuesday afternoon.  Teachers told them there were harmful insects in the air, but  even my eight-year-old didn’t buy it.    My mind is fog when it comes to remembering how they reacted when I told them what had happened.  It is too much for anyone of us to absorb, much less children.

Weeks  after 9/11, I  remember driving to my job in Chicago on the Eisenhower Expressway and  imagining a plane crashing into  the John Hancock and Sears Towers. The shock did not easily retreat.

At the time, there was fear mongering that put Muslims or anyone even looking like an Arab American in peril. Women wearing hijabs were menaced. A Sikh wearing a turban was murdered in Arizona.    Mosques were targeted. I think we have made some progress in overcoming our prejudice.    Zohran Mamdani is now  Mayor of  New York City and  Abdul El -Sayed is on the ballot for the US Senate in my home state of Michigan.

I live near Dearborn, which has the highest concentration of Arab-Americans in the country.  When I had a  pre-surgical physical last week two of my nurses wore hijabs.  So did the  technician administering my CT scan.

Yet a poll by Pew Research cast doubt on exactly how much progress we have made accepting our Muslim brothers and sisters as equals.

In March 2002, six months after the al Qaeda attack, 25% of Americans agreed that Islam is more likely than other religions to encourage violence.  In 2026,   that number of Americans believing that Islam encourages more violence than other religions  jumped to 51 percent.   More than one in two of us believe that lie.

The same survey found that  43% of U.S. adults  believed that Muslims are less patriotic than other Americans, while 42% said Muslims have a negative impact on the country. 

No doubt the hatred and  cruel policies against immigrants  perpetrated by our current administration and its cronies have been pouring gas on simmering   fears about  immigrants who speak and dress differently.  Immigrants make America great.    They always have.

The following prayer, composed in 2015 for the Imams National Advisory Board of Great Britain,  is one that seems fitting to repeat today as we search for peace that seems  more and more elusive:

 

Prayer For Our Nation

Oh Allah, our lord, unite our nation around the principles of justice, peace, love and faith.

Put peace and love in our hearts for the diversity that makes our country so beautiful

Oh Lord, most Strong, Give us the strength to protect and care for our neighbors.

Oh Lord, we pray for our nation, the United States. to remain loving, compassionate, remove prejudice from our hearts, and enable us to love our brothers and sisters of all faiths.

 

AMEN!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Collateral Damage