A Short History of Interactions with Our Neighbors, or Growing up Muslim in America
My parents moved into their current home over 30 years ago, just after I was born. My oldest memory involving our neighbors is of my brothers’ friends: I’ll call them Timmy and Billy.[1] They stood out in a street mostly inhabited by older white couples. Timmy and Billy would sometimes visit and play catch in our backyard.
Flash forward a few years. We had just met new Muslim neighbors who became our best friends. We would carpool together after school some days. Now teenagers, I often recognized Timmy and Billy playing on our street. They began taunting us, pulling their shirts over their heads to make fun of the headscarves our mothers wore. Once they threw their ball at our neighbor’s car.
After 9/11 we were accused of stealing a neighbor’s pumpkin one Halloween. Another Halloween, we woke to find our house covered in toilet paper and our car stained with broken egg yolks. One year, with my father out of town, some teenagers thought it would be fun to light a bag of dog litter and leave it in front of our doorway.
And we were told that we should adorn our front lawn with the American flag.
Our neighbor who has lived beside us all these years recently confronted my mother about an issue involving our backyard, asking her if she understood English. For 30 years our neighbors have watched us pile into our minivan, a rowdy group of five children who most undoubtedly spoke to our mother in English. My mother — who studied English literature in Aleppo; who taught me to read English before I ever stepped foot into a school; who raised two physicians, a college professor, a finance and business manager, and an attorney — is suddenly being questioned about her comprehension of a language she has lived in for over 30 years.
Tonight my aunt parked her car in front of a small park two houses down from our own. A neighbor left her a note, asking her to park her car in front of her own house. My father had always advised us to park in that area to avoid taking up space on the street or disturbing the neighbors.
I’m recounting this story because this parking dispute happened to take place around the three-year anniversary of Deah, Yusor, and Razan’s tragic death — three beautiful souls whose lives they told us ended because of a parking dispute. *
*On February 10, 2015, Deah Barakat (23), his new bride Yusor Abu-Salha (21), and her sister Razan (19) were killed in their Chapel Hill home by their neighbor, Craig Hicks. Chapel Hill Police initially stated that the crime was motivated by an ongoing parking dispute. Hicks’ interactions with the three students revealed a clear history of anti-Muslim sentiment. You can follow the work of Our Three Winners Foundation honoring their legacy at https://www.facebook.com/ourthreewinners/.
[1] The names have been altered for the sake of anonymity.
