The YWS Big Birthday Contest was to write a personal essay no longer than 500 words. The form the essay took was entirely up to the author; it could be a story, a haiku, or an actual essay. First place got a $75 gift certificate to Amazon, second place got a $50 gift certificate to Amazon, and third place got a $25 gift certificate to Amazon.
Second Place Winner: Sam for It's A Hard Knock Life
Empty belly life!
Rotten smelly life!
Full of sorrow life!
No-tomorrow life!
One of my friends likes to say that I love explosives so much that I converted to Islam.
The real story is this:
For fifteen years, God and I played hide-and-go-seek. I was losing, miserably.
But I found him in the Quran.
I didn't convert, and firecrackers freak me out. Finding Islam was an affirmation of things I already believed—you can only put God into one category, and that God doesn't act human. God is neither sexist nor racist. In that sense, was it a conversion? I became, not converted. Conversion implies similar functions, different operation. Became is much different.
I'm actually really happy about it. At first I cried a lot and all but now I feel like I'm saved and I'm a better person. I'm cussing less, stopping myself from thinking bad things, I mean I'm even treating my family better. And I'm praying morning and night and in between.
Lindsaroo's words, not mine. She became Christian. Different strokes for different folks, I guess, with the same result of inner peace.
After leaving Christianity, though, there are hurdles to leap through everyday. (If you were wondering, that's what 'jihad' actually means. Struggle. Test.) In casual conversation—even without a headscarf—being Muslim is a standing invitation to compete in Infidel Jeopardy.
Aren't you Muslim?
"Uh. Yeah."
Does Islam justify wife-beating? Wasn't Muhammad a pedophile? Do you get 72 virgins in heaven, or is that just for dudes? Do you know how to make a bomb?
Aren't you oppressed?
There are enough Nots in Islam that it's easily to tell what Is. Not a swineherd. Not a skank. Not a snob. Is truth. Is light. Is hope.
I pray a lot and I'll pass on the hot dog, but I do a lot of things that would make fundamentalists weep. I'm in jazz band and Gay-Straight Alliance. I have male friends, but I don't date and I forgo flirting. I'm still a member of Western society, but without the same amount of pressure—to primp, to strut your stuff.
It's just right for me. It means that I'm routinely groped at the airport, but it also means that I can be my own person. I don't have to sit around and wait for men, and I don't sit around and wait for things to get better. I'm an activist. I try to fix things. When I need a moment, I have five convenient time slots for contemplation. I have a copy of the Quran in my purse as we speak--it's my security blanket. I love its poetry. I love the things it has to tell me.
Muhammad, peace be upon him, was an orphan. I can't attest to his skill in choreography, nor his adorable frock dresses, but both of his parents died when he was young.
For himself and his faithful, myself and my billion brothers and sisters, it's a hard-knock life no longer.
We are free.
Gender:
Points: 11417
Reviews: 425