I remember that day. That was my first year of being Muslim. On that day, I was beyond Muslim, beyond American. I was a human overwhelmed with the knowledge that other humans were enduring every sensation and emotiin that surely they must have been experiencing. I knew it in those moments, and I felt so fucking sick.
To return to classes the next day and face the hatred - granted, mild and never with threats or acts of violence as was visited on Muslims of Colour - was confusing and painful. I've grown numb to realising what victims of terrorism endure by now, but hearing about events like the homophobic terrorist attack on Pulse or the white supremacist terrorist attack in Christchurch, NZ still makes me feel sick. Now that I know how certain whites react to certain acts of terrorism, I also feel dread.
What benefits me the most is to experience community reach out and holding each other, sharing love with each other, shutting up the bigotry that happens in their social circles, sharing meals, holding game days, going to movie-watching gatherings, making music together, building communities based on love. When love builds, I feel less of that tight nausea in my gut.
I call for that kind of community as often as I do because I want others to experience that same release - that same relaxation from tension, that same sense of security with others, that same rise in oxytocin and dopamine and other biochemicals of love. We all deserve to feel good with each other.
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