Noora describes her struggles with
her family as a young convert.
By Noora Alsamman
I became Muslim
when I was 15 years old. My mom is Syrian (family
from Haleb) born in Detroit, and my dad is American
with parents from Polish/Slovak background. I was
also born in Detroit Michigan. My grandma is Maronite,
my and my mom and dad are both catholic. When I was
fifteen I wanted to be a nun. I was in my World
History class in high school and we were studying all
the major religions. When we got to Islam I was very
interested, and there was an Egyptian brother (Muslim)
in my class who was correcting the teacher when he
would make a mistake, and I thought "Wow!" he must
have strong faith to be correcting the teacher like
this. So one day, I asked him what is the difference
between Catholicism and Islam. He said that there was
not that much. Well I was not satisfied with this
answer so I asked his mom if I could have a copy of
the Quran in English. She gave me one and when I
started to read it, I couldn't put it down. I just
keep reading it and I knew it was from Allah. You
just know there is NO way a man could write this. And
me being a person who appreciates poetry, I loved it
very much I found it to be amazing. So I became
Muslimah in my heart.
And then all the
hardships started. I started praying and fasting,
etc. My parents, especially my mom, started giving me
a VERY hard time. Me being so young, I imagined they
would love Islam the same way I did, but for them it
was completely different. They would take away my
hijab, my prayer rug, my Quran, and materials about
Islam. My dad would search my room everyday, and I
would hide my hijab in the closet. My mom started
trying to forbid me from being friends with Muslims,
and she would call my friend's parents and tell them
stop telling my daughter about Islam, and that they
are confusing her.
My parents made
me go to church, and I would just sit there thinking
these people are SO lost, and this priest how he lies
to the people and reads from the bible only what he
wants them to hear, and then manipulates the meaning.
One day my mom set up a conference with me and one of
the priests. I would say I love Islam and why would
you think something so beautiful is so bad? He would
tell me this and that and say some quotes from the
bible. He even told me that my dream (I had a dream I
was going to a Muslim country and to the desert
wearing hijab) he said this was from Satan, I seek
refuge in God. This man looked like he had Satan in
him when he said this! I will never forget the look
on his face. I asked Allah to forgive me.
My mom would
cook pork for me on purpose and say it was beef, but I
checked the wrapper and it said pork. And my dad,
who's parents are Polish/Slovak ancestors would tell
me in this house you are either catholic or you
leave. I even had to hide my Quran in the air
conditioning vent so they wouldn't get it, because
they would throw it in the garbage. They even took
the lock off my door, so praying was VERY hard. They
would make fun of me praying. I learned the prayers
in Arabic my self with a small prayer book. I can't
explain how much it would hurt me that my parents were
this way towards me and Islam.
I started
telling my younger sister than me about Islam. My
parents told me if I didn't stop I had to leave. I
stopped, but I told my sister many things and now she
questions why Catholics can't just pray to God and why
confession and many other things. I said a prayer
that when I was older, I would practice Islam
totally. I stopped praying for a while, may God
forgive me. I had no one to support me or give me
guidance except my friends parents who said listen to
your parents. My Muslim friends didn't understand
what I was going through, and they weren't mature or
knowledgeable enough to teach me and answer the many
questions I had.
One day (when I
was 20) while I was in university I called up the lady
who had given me the Quran because I heard there was a
mosque just built nearby. Before then the closest
mosque was 45min-1hr. away. She said they were having
a dinner. So I went, and when I heard the call to
prayer, I was so happy and cried. I repeated the
Shahada public during Ramadan, and I made a commitment
to be steadfast and not care what my parents or anyone
else said or did. I felt I could relate at this point
to Yunus, may the mercy and blessings of God be upon
him who was in the belly of the whale. I was/am
determined. So I stopped bad habits and left bad
company. And surrounded myself with Muslims.
I started
wearing hijab and my parents would say you are not
going outside like that. But either I did anyway or
wouldn't go. Sometimes I would put on my hijab in my
car so they wouldn't see me because my mom would
always says Islam says to obey your parents, so you
must listen to us. She said you will not wear that
thing on your head and you will wear shorts and be
stylish. She told me I look like an old woman wearing
Islamic clothing and hijab. One time my mom didn't
want my sister's friends to see me wearing hijab so
her and my sister grabbed it off my head. And in
defense I hit my mom, may God forgive me.
She told me I
was selfish for wearing hijab and embarrassing my
sister and the whole family. She doesn't like to be
seen with me in public in the city she lives. I
really got a hard time from my grandma. I would be
praying sometimes and she would yell at me and say,
"Don't you hear me when I am talking to you!"
She even said
one time she couldn't believe Jesus was born
miraculously. They would hear me playing the Quran
and literally make fun and laugh and curse at the
words. My grandpa stopped talking to me, my mom told
me to go to hell and so did my grandma. My mom even
tried to take me to a psychiatrist when I was
younger. She explained to him I had become Muslimah,
and he tried to give me psychotic medicine. I threw
it in the garbage. I found it VERY hard to study in
school with all this craziness going on. I wanted to
study Islam and become like a scholar. So I started
looking to get married.
All praise is to
Allah, I found a good Muslim from Damascus Syria. I
got married and moved from Atlanta to Houston. A year
later I had a boy named Yousuf. All praise be to
Allah, I am very happy and I hope, God willing, to
move to Medina. All is very generous. Recently, I
met a sister who was Jordanian who also became
Muslim. She went through a hard time like me. I hear
amazing stories about people embracing Islam like this
Jewish guy from New York who moved to Jerusalem and he
became Muslim, and his Moroccan Jewish wife became
Muslim and kids and he moved to the Muslim localities
and learned Arabic. All praise is due to Allah. I
just thank Allah for giving me guidance to Islam.