So here’s the thing. My children are Muslim. I am not. Yes I married a Muslim man, didn’t take on the religion because you actually don’t have to. Muslim men are allowed to marry women that are of Al-Kitaab (The [Holy] Book) – Jewish, Christian and Muslim and whilst it’s not outside of the realm of possibility, some Muslims have crossed the barriers and married outside of these faiths. That aside, one day the conversation went like this. “If we get married, how would you feel about our children being Muslim?” I replied “What exactly does that mean? What are Muslim children like? What are their qualities?” Once the language barriers and understanding of my questions had filtered through, the list of qualities that he gave were similar to those of “good children.” So I had no problem opting for my children having Islam as their faith. There were promises made and promises broken along the way but I made the decision and lived with it. Are they the most Islamic of children? Well the short answer, is no; and with an insolent virago like me as a mother, I doubt that they would be anything but tolerant and approach everything with an open mind.

 

 

As it happens, they are far more enquiring and open to discussion than I expected, so they ask a lot of questions about the way that the world works – inevitably, this brings up questions about discrimination. The first time they heard the phrase “anti-muslim” was a few years ago and I had to explain to them what it meant. Up until that point, I had expected to explain racism and sexism but was really worried that I had to explain Islamophobia. Not because I didn’t know what it was, but because I never thought that relationships of diversity would’ve reached the point where I would have to explain what it was and in all honesty, I didn’t know if I was fully equipped to deal with it. Would I need a hadith or a surah to help them understand “The world we were living in?” Imagine 2 five-year olds asking “why do they hate us mummy?” Then came the priceless “Mummy, they’re saying at school that Muslims like to kill people. Why do they say that? It’s not true Mummy” And it wasn’t all fun and games on the other side neither. Hannah came in one day really pissed off at being told that “Muslim children weren’t allowed to have Christian friends” Her response was “But you’re Christian Mummy and how could I not love you? You’re my bestest friend.” Do you give the full on version of how the world is set up at the risk of traumatising them? Do you give some half-arsed answer? Do you ignore them? Which is hard because they’re persistent buggers that will push for an answer. I did the half-arsed thing and fluffed that “people are stupid”. Now if you know me, this response goes against everything I’m about. I wanted to whip out a copy of every episode of Roots and wade in that murky water. However, their father was working abroad and he had asked me not to get too ‘badass’ with them “because they’re not tough like you.” So I waited to strike at the right time.

 

 

However, that time never seemed to come. I don’t watch the news much. I remember watching the local news once and logged that the first 5 reports were on rape, murder and robbery. The national news was no better with stories of division and war. I also clocked how my anxiety was rising with each report. The level of fear and division was overwhelming. United THEY stand, divided WE fall. It just so happened that we saw the news at my parents house and there was a report on the children of Syria. My children were 6 at the time and although they aren’t fluent, they recognised that the children were speaking Arabic – their father’s language. In the report, an alarm went off warning the children that a bomb was going to go off and they needed to take cover. Fast forward a couple of weeks and I tidied the kids bedroom and everything was picture perfect. Tamir came in and ran under his table. I asked him to come from under the table. All I was thinking was “I’ve just spent ages balancing those papers and books and if they fall, me and you in here today”. He wouldn’t come from under the table and I asked him what he was doing. He said “I’m doing what our Syrian brothers and sisters were doing at the school.” My heart sank. I felt helpless because I didn’t know what to say. I’m glad they saw that report despite all but what kind of world are we living in where my children are seeing the same divisions that I grew up with.

 

 

So where does the art come in? By the time Donald Trump had come to power, my children were fast learning that there were a number of people that didn’t like Muslims. It was a strange time and place for me too as I was struggling to explain to them not only the concept of discrimination and hatred but the strength of the hatred that some people had. As I said earlier, I’m a hard ass and realised that my kids weren’t. So I had to tread delicately. Britain was Brexiting, there was still no peace in the Middle East and Black Lives still didn’t matter. I could see that my children didn’t “fit” in any particular space. They’re different for a number of reasons. But they were just getting on with it. I’m lucky to have some happy ass kids. But like everyone else, you don’t know what you don’t know until someone shows you that you don’t know it. There was a lot of Anti-Muslim sentiment and within that a deep Anti-Arab sentiment. Then one Christmas, we went to mum and dad’s. Only Fools and Horses came on and this character – Gary – came on. He was played by the British-Moroccan actor Nabil Elouahabi and I think all he said was Gary. But every time he said it the kids really laughed out loud. And then one of the characters mentioned that he was Arab. Hannah looked at me and said “Mummy is Gary Arab?? Like. For real Arab?” I explained that he was British and Arab and that he’d been acting for a really long time. And within that little statement she saw that Arabs and in particular Muslims can be British, can be funny and can find a place of fit. I saw her face change like “Wow, so it’s not all war and jihadists”. It took them a couple of years to realize that there was a whole British Muslim community. Although they had Muslim friends, they somehow believed that they were the first British Muslims for some reason (but that’s for another blog). It was at this point that part of my problem was that I was finding it difficult to identify any examples of British Muslims that didn’t appear after a 10 o’clock watershed, Representation that they could identify with. I wasn’t expecting images of any Jamaican / Sudanese children? But like T’Challa, Shuri, Okoye and Nakia from Black Panther in the super hero world and Riz Ahmed and John Boyega in the science fiction world representation really does matter. I always promised that if I ever found Nabil Elouahabi on Social media, I would thank him out loud for a part that only really said one word because of how quickly it opened my children’s eyes to the possibilities that I couldn’t articulate at that time and for filling a gap that I couldn’t.

 

From the bottom of my heart to those on film, those in the theatres, those in the arts, it may feel thankless but you really never know who is watching and the impact of your work. It matters and this isn’t a call for you to choose roles that appeal to all and sundry but the message that you carry is one of importance. Break a leg….. if anyone still says that!

 

How have you overcome discrimination? Are you an interfaith parent? How do you overcome the issues that you have faced?  What advice would you give to other parents?

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