“And now we call the Committee on Homeland Security hearing on American Muslim radicalization,” a voice says. Gavel knocks on wood. Finely press suits ruffle in a flurry as dozens of lawmakers, journalists, and witnesses take their positions. So begins the infamous ‘Peter King’ hearings, the fifth in a series of congressional hearings on the imminent threat posed by the American Muslim community. I shift in my seat, recording device ready and pen in hand. My journey with journalism has begun. As I listen to testimony of my Muslim brothers and sisters as they defend the hearings’ and applaud Chairman King for breaking down bears of mistrust and clearing the cloud of Islamophobia, I sigh. How long will this ‘Islamophobia’ continue? How long will we continue to debate the same principles, rewind into the same past? My pen wanders to the header of my notebook page. It underlines a quote is emblazoned atop the white and blue – a headline perhaps where my lede or my name should be. ‘We wish to plead our own cause. Too long have others spoken for us,” it says. These words, one of my favorites, were written into history by the Freedom Journal in 1827, New York City – the first black newspaper in our country, the country of the freedom of the press. I look up at the panel of Muslim witnesses as they are grilled by the committee members, as they testify to the cooperation of the Muslim community with law enforcement, the dynamics of Muslim youth, beards and scarves, mosques and the NYPD, and I smile. There is a reason why I am here. And that reason is not out of leisure, it is out of necessity, a duty to inform, to spread the message, to give a voice to the voiceless.
History repeats itself, they say. The Muslim community is where many nations in the tunnel of time once stood and it is the press, our nation’s fourth state, that brings it forward. The first newspaper ever to be established in America – Public Occurrences –
surfaced as a voice for the colonists in the 1690s. It came out once and the government – itching because of its assertiveness – shut it down. Fast forward a few years into the future. The same story emerged time and time again. Thomas Pain, a failure of a man, published “Common Sense,” a pamphlet that called for the American people to rise up and assert for independence. To embrace change. 150,000 copies were distributed.. Others said it was too harsh, too much. The British government protested. And so the same story was on replay. Stories of newspapers that rose up from difficult times to give people a voice. The government retaliated. Their wallets did not cooperate. Their readers felt it was too much. But they fought. Among all these examples is one that we must learn from : the Black press. It gave a voice to the voiceless. The strongest black institution for 150 years. It was credited with mobilizing the people. Fighting for change in a racist, segregated, opinionated, downplaying, and difficult America. And the community rallied around it.
And now, here we are - at the same point where so many newspapers were in the past. We talk about how newspapers are struggling, we haven’t got the money. We talk about how it’s difficult to rise against big government. We’re afraid to put things out there. But every measure where change was sought, with challenge it was fraught. We talk about how the Muslim community needs a voice, About how the media has got it all wrong. They do this and that. “FOX news gives such a negative view of Muslims,” we say. They’re not covering the right things. They’re sensationalizing, muckraking, sabotaging, ignoring, exaggerrating. And when I ask community members what they thought of the latest King hearing, many do not know.
Change is needed, a change large enough to spark knowledge, to inspire others, to let the record of the voiceless, the speaking, the spoken, and the voices to be born speak, to breakdown barriers that have sprung up with time and coverage. We can use journalism – as we are – to connect people. To talk about the youth’s latest achievements, to present Muslim responses to, to move beyond mosque conflict, and highlight what’s happening in our communities, to bridge the people from Maryland to those in Virginia. To talk about our responses to our abortion, our role in elections, our views of 9/11, our opinions.
According to the Bureau of Labor and Statistics, the media pay for a journalist is a mere 36,000. Journalism has been labeled a “dying career.” To disclose my major is to ask for an eyebrow raise. Why major in a dead field? Can’t you learn this anywhere else? To these questions, to these rock hard statistics I say but one thing: the printing press once rendered journalism an obsolete field and yet it prospered for decades to come. Why? Because at the very heart of journalism is a quest for truth, a desire for the unknown, a deep connection with the perspectives of others, a need to understand and improve the human experience, and the responsibility to document the human narrative. Before we discuss Islamophobia, before we even touch upon the allegations of the other side, there is a pure and unadulterated quest for truth.
That is why I plan to pursue a career in journalism. That is why I plan to pick up a pen, a recorder, and a camera and go out there. My hijab will be not an accessory but a testament to my resolve. And when I am there, I will press record on my recorder, rewind, and promise what the black press did:
We wish to plead our own cause. Too long have others spoken for us. Too long has the public been deceived by misrepresentation of things which concern us dearly. It shall ever be our daily duty to vindicate our brethren, when oppressed, and to lay the cause before the public...
Back to the hearing room, I realize that this is what I have written in the very top of my notebook page. This is really the headline of this bigger picture. So, as Peter King continues his questioning, I sit back and dream. “And now we call the Committee on Homeland Security hearing by an American Muslim,” a voice says. Gavel knocks on wood. Finely press suits ruffle in a flurry as dozens of lawmakers, journalists, and witnesses take their positions. The quest for truth lingers in the air. A young American Muslim journalist looks at her notes, and in the top margin sees “We wish to plead our cause.” I look back at my press badge and – as others testify to the committee, I whisper in a testimony to myself: I have.
History repeats itself, they say. The Muslim community is where many nations in the tunnel of time once stood and it is the press, our nation’s fourth state, that brings it forward. The first newspaper ever to be established in America – Public Occurrences –
surfaced as a voice for the colonists in the 1690s. It came out once and the government – itching because of its assertiveness – shut it down. Fast forward a few years into the future. The same story emerged time and time again. Thomas Pain, a failure of a man, published “Common Sense,” a pamphlet that called for the American people to rise up and assert for independence. To embrace change. 150,000 copies were distributed.. Others said it was too harsh, too much. The British government protested. And so the same story was on replay. Stories of newspapers that rose up from difficult times to give people a voice. The government retaliated. Their wallets did not cooperate. Their readers felt it was too much. But they fought. Among all these examples is one that we must learn from : the Black press. It gave a voice to the voiceless. The strongest black institution for 150 years. It was credited with mobilizing the people. Fighting for change in a racist, segregated, opinionated, downplaying, and difficult America. And the community rallied around it.
And now, here we are - at the same point where so many newspapers were in the past. We talk about how newspapers are struggling, we haven’t got the money. We talk about how it’s difficult to rise against big government. We’re afraid to put things out there. But every measure where change was sought, with challenge it was fraught. We talk about how the Muslim community needs a voice, About how the media has got it all wrong. They do this and that. “FOX news gives such a negative view of Muslims,” we say. They’re not covering the right things. They’re sensationalizing, muckraking, sabotaging, ignoring, exaggerrating. And when I ask community members what they thought of the latest King hearing, many do not know.
Change is needed, a change large enough to spark knowledge, to inspire others, to let the record of the voiceless, the speaking, the spoken, and the voices to be born speak, to breakdown barriers that have sprung up with time and coverage. We can use journalism – as we are – to connect people. To talk about the youth’s latest achievements, to present Muslim responses to, to move beyond mosque conflict, and highlight what’s happening in our communities, to bridge the people from Maryland to those in Virginia. To talk about our responses to our abortion, our role in elections, our views of 9/11, our opinions.
According to the Bureau of Labor and Statistics, the media pay for a journalist is a mere 36,000. Journalism has been labeled a “dying career.” To disclose my major is to ask for an eyebrow raise. Why major in a dead field? Can’t you learn this anywhere else? To these questions, to these rock hard statistics I say but one thing: the printing press once rendered journalism an obsolete field and yet it prospered for decades to come. Why? Because at the very heart of journalism is a quest for truth, a desire for the unknown, a deep connection with the perspectives of others, a need to understand and improve the human experience, and the responsibility to document the human narrative. Before we discuss Islamophobia, before we even touch upon the allegations of the other side, there is a pure and unadulterated quest for truth.
That is why I plan to pursue a career in journalism. That is why I plan to pick up a pen, a recorder, and a camera and go out there. My hijab will be not an accessory but a testament to my resolve. And when I am there, I will press record on my recorder, rewind, and promise what the black press did:
We wish to plead our own cause. Too long have others spoken for us. Too long has the public been deceived by misrepresentation of things which concern us dearly. It shall ever be our daily duty to vindicate our brethren, when oppressed, and to lay the cause before the public...
Back to the hearing room, I realize that this is what I have written in the very top of my notebook page. This is really the headline of this bigger picture. So, as Peter King continues his questioning, I sit back and dream. “And now we call the Committee on Homeland Security hearing by an American Muslim,” a voice says. Gavel knocks on wood. Finely press suits ruffle in a flurry as dozens of lawmakers, journalists, and witnesses take their positions. The quest for truth lingers in the air. A young American Muslim journalist looks at her notes, and in the top margin sees “We wish to plead our cause.” I look back at my press badge and – as others testify to the committee, I whisper in a testimony to myself: I have.
RSS Feed