The fictional letter from a 20-year-old Muslim woman, “Letter from Ahlima” has created much controversy in recent days around metro Atlanta, and I can understand why. The letter was part of a lesson used in a Cobb County middle school.
Being a Muslim woman and a mother of three, I agree with the decision state school Superintendent John Barge took on this particular account to end use of the letter. The letter is not, of course, the best representation of a Muslim woman and how she lives her life.
Whoever wrote it took an inappropriate approach by making comments that parents found offensive and so did I. Just because we do not follow the same lifestyle does not mean we should go around offending or judging people.
But the public needs to recognize that American educators came up with the letter and the state approved it to be used in the middle school syllabus. It was not an effort by Muslims to creep into the school system to promote their way of life or Shariah law, so there is no need to attack Islam.
I am not a certified educator — as was a guest columnist last week who complained that the Ahlima lesson taught empathy, which is not the role of schools but should be confined to the home.
Yes, the home is the biggest influence on bringing up children. But when they spend most of their day at school, good morals such as tolerance and empathy toward people of a different faith, nationality, color or race need to be reinforced in the learning environment.
A little reminder: America stands for freedom and justice for all. How can you ensure people freedom to express themselves if the society ceases to show the desire to understand diversity and the learning process on ways to deal with it?
I agree that the syllabus needs to provide ways for students to educate themselves about cultures and faith traditions, but the material needs to be age appropriate. Real- life stories should be used instead of fictional and controversial topics that could do more harm than good.
Forget Ahlima. I am not from the Middle East but I am a Muslim woman, happily married and living here in the U.S. for the past decade. Yes, I did not date and my marriage was arranged, not at 20, but after I was done with my master’s degree.
My life partner is seven years older than I and is the kindest husband and the most loving father. And now with his support, I am pursuing a degree at Gwinnett Technical College.
I am his only wife and I do not know of anyone among my friends, family, extended family or in-laws who has four wives.
So what Ahlima represents is an extreme case, nothing that I, my family or most members of my community (the Ahmadiyya Muslim community) can relate to.
I am not a religious scholar, but I know that polygamy is allowed in Islam under certain conditions and restrictions. However, it certainly does not imply that every Muslim man chooses to do so.
I choose to dress modestly not because my husband forces me, but because my faith demands it. I understand that benefits of my dress include protection from unfriendly gazes to sun rays alike.
When people talk about limits defined by my faith, they forget to mention that men have been prescribed a set of limits as well. Just as woman are obligated to dress modestly to avoid the attention of strangers, men need to dress modestly as well. Nor are they allowed to openly gaze at women.
Unless people in society are open to understanding one another, there will be suspicion, fear and a lack of peace.
Living in this diverse land, we need to work toward creating an atmosphere of mutual respect through interfaith dialogue and education. There isn’t another way to attain global peace.
Saima Ahmad lives in Suwanee with her family and is pursuing an interior design degree at Gwinnett Technical College.
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