I never knew minding my own business would cause such animosity from others.
It was the summer of 1996, and I stopped at a local rest area in South Carolina, while en route to Atlanta to watch the American basketball team compete in the Olympics. As I started to offer one of my daily Muslim ritual prayers on the grass, two glass bottles were thrown at my legs, with someone yelling, “Get the [expletive] out of here, you damn terrorist.” I had never been more scared and shocked in my life. As a sophomore in high school attending an all boys Christian school, I never felt threatened the way I did that day. Here I was, traveling 12 hours by car to cheer on an American sports team only to be asked to leave the very place I love.
Fast forward 16 years to when I was landing at Washington Dulles Airport after a 13-hour flight from Saudi Arabia. Arriving at customs, I felt a sense or serenity after performing a spiritual pilgrimage in Mecca and Medina — known as the Umrah in the Islamic tradition. Collecting my bags, I rushed to the exit doors, anxious to greet my family who was waiting to receive me. Before I could make it, a Transportation Security Administration officer cornered me and took me to a private room to ask me a few questions. A few questions quickly became a 12-hour interrogation, with inquiries regarding my faith, why I would go to Saudi Arabia, if I would harm others and if I had purchased any weapons. At one point, I was wrongfully accused of supporting terrorist organizations. This, of course, could not have been further from the truth. Despite my explaining that I was a resident physician in Maryland whose vocation was to help patients, the only thing the TSA officer saw in me was a tall, brown, bearded Muslim who could potentially harm others.
