Mosques

About a week ago, I was walking home from work when I passed a community center. It was early evening, so the lights inside the center were bright enough that I could see into the center. As I walked by, I noticed that there were people inside. They were standing, facing the back wall, and after a little watching, I saw them bowing down. I then realized that the back wall was the east wall, and that I was walking past some people participating in evening prayers.

I slowed my pace. Not because I was afraid or angry or anything like that, but because I wanted to learn more. It was the first time that I had ever really seen any Muslim pray, save for footage on TV or pictures on the Internet. For a moment, I got a really warm, happy feeling in my chest. How great is it that I live in a place where we are free to practice religion so freely? How great is it that just by walking down the street, I could see a part of someone's life that was different from my own, though not wholly new? I realized how lucky I was to live in a country where, if I needed to have a place to worship, I could use a place like a community center to worship as I see fit.

I didn't stop walking. I didn't want to stand there and stare in at people while they were praying, only because I know that I would feel a little strange if someone strolled into the mission during mass and sat next to me with a clipboard and recorder. But what I saw was peaceful. All the people in the community center were praying together. It was just like being in mass, with everyone holding hands and saying the "Our Father" before Communion.

Back in 2001, I was in eighth grade. One Autumn day, in mid October, a girl in my English class started talking about how one of the Muslim families in our home town was celebrating on September 11th. The girl was propagating a rumor that the family had openly celebrated the attacks at the local quick mart they owned.

"That's BS!" I shouted. I knew the family relatively well, and knew that they were good people that were just as American as anyone in town. They had immigrated to the states about 10 years earlier from the Middle East, and were doing very well for themselves and the community. I stood up. "What you're saying is a lie. They would never celebrate the death of others. And they have worked so hard to be here, to be Americans, and this lie could destroy all of that for them. It's not true, don't say it."

I'm not sure what had come over me. Maybe I was just frustrated from all the news I had heard over the last month about September 11th. Maybe I was just irritated from the split that I was seeing between groups of people in my country and in my home, the split between those that wanted some kind of revenge and those that just wanted to mourn. Maybe I was just desperate to change the subject of conversation.

Or maybe I was just acting like a decent human being. Maybe I was acting with love.

When I walked by that community center and saw Muslims praying, it did have an impact on my life. It made me feel like my religion was safe, too. It made me smile.

Apathy

I don't know if you were aware, but there's kind of a huge earthquake that happened yesterday in Haiti. An estimated 100,000 are dead, with hundreds of thousands injured and devastation everywhere. The Parliament has literally collapsed, as well as hospitals, schools, and homes. Basically, every entity that most Americans totally take for granted has been left as rubble.

Today in the University Union and the Rec Center, i watched the news coverage that was coming in. There are horrifying pictures of people that are dead, wounded, mourning, and searching for loved ones. And while I was watching the flickering screens, I was also watching some of my peers. People in the rec center kept doing their workouts, many of them swimming in magazines or gossip instead of watching the news. In the UU, there were some gathered around the televisions but many were meeting with tudy groups or talking about their plans for the weekend.

I guess I can't blame them. Being a student is a lot of hard work. You're constantly learning new things, running around from place to place, and trying to make deadlines, all while trying to maintain your health, social life, and sanity.

I guess I just feel like a lot more attention could be given to the crisis that's at hand. 100,000 people are dead. 100,000. That's 5 times the number of people that go to my school. And the area of devastation is huge, too. I know we've seen huge disasters in the United States in the last decade, but just seems like it's so much bigger. Any help that these people might have to survive is either being flown in from another country or it's already dust.

I know that we're busy and we've got our own problems. We've got a lot of politics going on, and a lot of problems with our economy. We have people without health care and without jobs. We have very needy people right here in the United States. And that may not even include all of the anxieties and challenges we encounter in our own, personal lives. But when 100,000 people die, I feel like the response should be, "What can I do to help?" instead of "*shrug* Wow, that's terrible." I know that there are a lot of people doing what they can to help out, and I'm very thankful for them. But I just wish more people would pause from their daily lives in the US, where everything is actually pretty good, and take a second to help others that really need it, even if they're not in your country. Even if they died in a natural disaster instead of a terror attack. Even if they're poor.

All I ask is that we all take a moment to realize how good we really have it and take our talents and blessings and use them to aid those in dire need.