struggling to exist in an anti-Muslim space
Beyond praying in the B-stacks between classes, or visiting Dean Smith’s office (where you can report a professor for not excusing your absence to attend Eid services—as I wish I had done), being Muslim at WashU might require navigating a precarious campus map. Here is a psychospatial run-down of the struggle to exist in anti-Muslim space:
1. Your existence is political. And you will encounter this message in various campus spaces, perhaps those similar to the ones I experienced.
- In your dorms (2011): When a floormate tells you that Islam is the religion of a child molesting prophet and that Muslims are terrorists worthy of mass killings, your RA might not see it as an incidence of bias that warrants reporting, but rather a ‘misunderstanding’ when considered within the ‘politics of our time’. Because the war on terror is a broad designation that is instrumentalized to justify anti-Muslim racism not only in congress, and news channel studios; but in your own wustl ResLife common room as well.
- Frat Row & beyond (2013): When other students cannot possibly understand why a photo of fraternity members dressed up in camo with guns pointed to a muslim-appearing bearded male is violent.
- Olin Business School (2014): When an SU-approved student group invites and applauds a speaker who normalizes the expendability of Muslim-labeled bodies while comparing which types of Iraqis are easier to ‘break’ and torture.
Being Muslim at WashU, you are one of very very few. So struggling against the racism described above, might take an emotional toll as you realize that Muslim voices are not loud enough to be heard. You might realize that numbers are not coincidental but systematic; that WashU’s admissions seem (are) just as biased against Muslim applicants as its departments are against Muslim faculty. You might spend days crying alone out of an inability to process experiences of marginalization with someone who can relate. You might feel unbearably isolated. And when someone (like an SHS counselor) tries to pathologize your situation, deep down you will understand that your experience is not aberrant. Your marginalization was designed. And each semester, WashU’s administration, donors, and departments are responsible for keeping that design in place.
3. Coalition building is how you build power. Students of Color underestimate our power.
Coming to terms with designed marginalization at WashU can be incredibly trying. In my case, it had made me dead-set on transferring. But, I’m so grateful that I did not. Instead I began regularly attending ABS and ASA meetings which, even as a non-black person of color, became healing spaces on campus. Because you will often have no one to turn to but other students of color both Muslim and otherwise, investing in building genuine relationships with one another will organically transform your imagination of solidarity—solidarity that can translate into coalition building in student organizing spaces. I say this not to imply a definition of solidarity that is transactional; solidarity is love. Nor is this meant to imply that wustl’s anti-Muslim racism will become more bearable with time; it won’t. But investing the time into building authentic personal relationships to support one another will create student solidarity that is as beautiful as it is powerful.