#onlinearticle

I’ve been thinking a lot these past couple of years and especially these past couple of days about the state of our country and my position as a person of color within our institutions. Nightly news has been overflowing with the angry voices of white politicians who seem to constantly be spewing agendas of anti-black, anti-muslim, anti-women, anti-lgbtq, anti-latino rhetoric and so on. In the off chance that politicians do try and relate and appeal to minority groups, it constantly feels as if they are missing the plot.

Are they forgetting that many minorities have to fear institutions that were set up to “serve and protect”? Do they know that people have to try and hide their true identities in order to be accepted in a country that hates them? I truly believe that most politicians forget that they are White and a large majority of us are colored. We live in a country where the core institutions are built for whites, on the backs of African-Americans and Native-Americans. Consequently, we’re constantly reminded of this because of the way our systems work. For example mass-incarceration, being pulled over for no reason, being asked for proof of residency, being kicked off planes for wearing a headscarf, being shot by cops - I feel as if I can go on forever. I can’t go a day without hearing news and being reminded that they fear us and they don’t want us here. I’ve been at a loss of words the past couple of days trying to collect my thoughts about Alton Sterling, Philando Castille, the 5 cops shot in Dallas, and the Black Lives Matter movement as a whole. As a member of the South Asian community I’ve grown frustrated with the way we deal with these things. I’ve noticed so many of us only becoming vocal only after the killings of police officers, but where were we on Aug. 9, 2014 when Michael Brown was killed, or on Aug. 11, 2014 when Ezell Ford was killed, or on July 13, 2015 when Sandra Bland was killed.

Everyone and their mother decided to speak up on how terrible it was to kill those 5 police officers. We were fed loving stories by the news about how wonderful they were as people and yes I completely agree that it was tragic. However why is the South Asian community not talking about the events that led up to this? Why is it only important when white bodies with institutionally given power die but when black and brown bodies die we turn away? We need to realize the power in the placement and timing of our words. I’m frustrated of having to be part of a community that does not understand that the Black Lives Matter movement is not a reason for why the cops were shot. I’m frustrated of being part of a community that has anti-immigrant and anti-muslim rhetoric thrown at them, and they complain of how no one is defending us, when they don’t defend the people that need us most. I’m frustrated of being part of a community that does not know when to back down and stay quiet so that others can grieve and be angry. How are all of us people of color going to expect any change when we’re not willing to put in the effort. These issues aren’t something that one community can solve on their own. These things require allies, they require acceptance, and they require a united front. Please remember even though we are South Asian and automatically are categorized as a minority that doesn’t mean that we don’t also have privileges that we can exercise to assist and uplift the black lives matter movement. You don’t need to be a social justice warrior you just need to know when it’s time to help, and the time is now. Here’s ways you can help/educate yourself as a member of the South Asian community.

/////DONATE//////

‪#‎AltonSterling‬ family scholarship fund:

https://www.gofundme.com/2d3eze7g

‪#‎PhilandoCastile‬ funds for family:

https://www.gofundme.com/2d55v9g

this is set up by his sister:

https://www.gofundme.com/2d5wd5g

Black Lives Matter:

https://donate.idex.org/checkout/donation?eid=66399

Anti-Police Terror Project:

http://www.antipoliceterrorproject.org/

/////LEARN/////

Mapping Police Violence

http://mappingpoliceviolence.org/

How Pseudo-Allies Enable The Killing Of Black Bodies

http://www.theestablishment.co/…/how-pseudo-allies-enable-…/

KING: Stop asking African-Americans to be calm in the face of police brutality and racial terror

http://www.nydailynews.com/…/king-stop-african-americans-ca…

Don’t Blame Black Lives Matter For The Deaths Of Dallas Cops

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/…/dont-blame-black-lives-matt…

How to Tell the Difference Between Real Solidarity and ‘Ally Theater’

http://www.blackgirldangerous.org/…/the-difference-between…/

I’m not sure I’ll ever completely be able to understand death while I’m still alive, however I do understand pain and grieving. I’ve become fairly familiar with them this year after losing two very  close family members, my mammo (mom’s younger brother), and my dada (dad’s dad).

There are so many different factors you have to deal with when someone passes. It’s not just emotional things like considering other people’s feelings, knowing the right things to say and grieving appropriately. It’s also logistical things such as who flys in when and who performs what task to contribute to a successful funeral. A lot of these logistical things are religious and in sunni interpretations of Islam there’s also a sense of a time crunch since the body needs to be buried the same day the death happens. It seems as if everything moves at light speed during these times.

Instead of letting the death of my grandfather fly past me like my uncles did I decided to take the time today to talk about the most confusing part of my emotions. And I’m not here to talk about how my relatives died or ask for sympathy. I’m here to talk about the loss of culture I feel as a first generation south asian american after the loss of these relatives. I’ve come to the conclusion that losing family that are immigrants or still living in the home country makes me feel disconnected from my culture. Slowly but surely there will be no one left that I can visit in Pakistan and that is difficult for me to digest because I feel so distant from who I am. I lost the fluidity in speaking the first language that my dada and dadi taught me. I lost a place in my family’s culture. Westernization runs so strongly through my blood I feel as if I’ve colonized myself. I was so ashamed for so much time over a culture that raised me and made me who I am today. Growing up around eurocentric beauty standards made me ashamed of the hair on my body and the color of my skin along with the scents of my foods and the traditional clothing I would wear around the house. Westernization also led to a lot of self hate because my culture isn’t “normal” which made me to feel like an unwanted outcast in my own body. There are so many things I think about for the future when I have to start the process of leaving someone in the past where they rest. Things like will my children be able to speak urdu? Will they ever be able to visit Pakistan? Will they consider themselves pakistani? Will they be proud of their brown skin and hairy arms? I wish my elders could live longer so that my kids could see the beauty in our heritage. I want them to be proud of where they’re grandparents and great grandparents are from.

It’s not only the negatives and the unknown I think about when death is present in my life. I also think about how both my grandfather and uncle have taught me so much about cultural standards and traditions along with how to treat my family and even start my own. They were both very strong men in their own rights and I wish to live up to the expectations they have for me. It helps to remember the beauty of knowledge they blessed me with during my time with them.

Growing up in sunday school I was taught to say a prayer which helps me deal with these emotions and was apparently said by Prophet Muhammed (PBUH) to Umm Salamah (RA) at the death of her husband: ‘O Allah, forgive Abi Salamah, elevate his status among the guided people, and look after the family that he left behind. O Lord of the universe, forgive us and him, comfort him in his grave, and lighten his stay.’ Through Islam I have learned that death is a normal process that every living thing must endure it, whether it be our own deaths or a relative’s death. Understanding that a person is no longer in pain when they have passed on is the most vital thing Islam has taught me which has helped me with the coping process. To know that the people I love are in a better place and are happier where they are eases my own grief and pain. Not to say that the mourning process isn’t rough, however having religion on my side during these times reminds me that life is a process and death is just a part of it.