“Every child is a Different kind of flower,
and Together make this world a beautiful garden.”

As a first-generation Muslim growing up in America, I felt torn between two worlds. I wanted to be an American, yet I wanted to be a Muslim, too. I believed I could only be one or the other because I associated American as being non-Muslim, even though my parents told me I was American and Muslim.  My parents told me as a child: “Be the good samaritan and love and do for others what you would want them to do for you.” If you see something wrong, change it with your hand, if you can’t do that, change it with your voice, if you can’t change it with your voice, change it with your heart, but that is the weakest of faith.” Unfortunately, many children did not share the same principles such as myself, and I felt I didn’t fit into mainstream culture.

However, I really enjoyed school academically. My teachers always encouraged me to be the best and used every encouraging method possible. They never lectured or talked down to me. I wasn’t taught to simply memorize the book and re-iterate what I read, I was taught to think, formulate questions, analyze and assess the information, and formulate a judgment based on the information given. This strategy not only empowered me to think and grow into a confident individual, able to face any challenge or excel in any avenue, it also developed my communication skills – incredibly valuable skills that I would eventually practice in class, with my team, and in the outside world.

For my junior high years, I attended an Islamic school. How exciting I thought it would be to meet others my age who were like me. However, I faced new problems. Some of the students were not practicing Islam and committing haram acts. I felt trapped and wondered why they did this.

Unfortunately, the Islamic school system I attended opened my eyes to why we are having major problems with children today. When I attended  classes, the curriculum was mostly lectures telling me what to believe and what to do. If I dared to ask why, I was humiliated or told “This is what we believe, or it’s what has always been done.”

According to my observations and experiences, this is the case in many Muslim households. Many of my friends began committing immoral acts, and when I confronted them about it, they believed that the freedom to do as they wished meant they were American and that they fit into the mainstream culture. They told me their parents never taught them about what it means to be a Muslim. They only focused on their cultural language, food and traditions. They didn’t even know the difference between their parent’s cultures and Islam.

When their parents did speak to them, it was more often than not a commandment, and often did not know why they were doing it, but knew that they had to be obedient and do it. I found myself teaching my peers and friends about being a good samaritan and doing everything for the sake of Allah. If they followed this moral pattern, they would fit into both cultures,  become a thriving, happy human being, as well as a model citizen.

As a young woman, I finally discovered that I am an American and a Muslim. Until this realization, I’d always thought I was Palestinian, Korean, and Irish Muslim; but in reality, those are my parent’s roots, and while each ethnic facet is a part of my heritage, they really all add up to me being an American. Islam is my culture and way of life, and American culture is a major influence on my life. Today, I strive to let the positive in both cultures shape and serve as my moral guide.

This is why the need for an Islamic school is crucial to the development of your child. The American system of education and good samaritan conduct, combined with the teachings of Islam as their religion and culture is the winning formula for your child to become a model Muslim and thriving citizen of the world.

Phala Abdo, Director