Children

are just wonderful. They know no boundaries. They either don't realize people are different, or if they do realize, they don't see differences as a bad thing. When you are a child, seeing someone different makes them special. "Mommy there are two black kids in my class!" stated an ecstatic Nikki meeting her first African Americans in the first grade. " "Mommy, Amy has braces on her legs and they pull her in a wagon!" (Amy has since become my best friend, does not have braces on her legs any longer, was on the high school dance team with me and was my doubles tennis partner...true story)

Adulthood is different. You see someone different and you feel sorry for them. You think that your reality is so much better than theirs.

Everyone is curious when encountering differences...EVERYONE. But only children have the courage to march up and ask while all the adults act like they aren't eavesdropping to hear the answer.

Today I went to the park with my son. I wore hijab. I felt pretty when I left the house, jeans, black turtle neck, white eyelet shirtdress, and the brightest red/pink hijab you ever laid eyes on. I felt pretty until I got out of the car. Pushing my son around the park in his stroller I felt that the people I passed pitied me. I can't read minds, but you know when you stand out like a sore thumb. I didn't so much get the hostile vibe as the 'poor thing, must be hot in that getup...bet her husband/father made her wear it' vibe.

I got uncomfortable walking around, so I parked the stroller at a park swing, placed my son on my lap and watched the children play. A little boy sat down beside me. It didn't bother him that i had on an electric red hijab. Perhaps it even made him like me. Nevertheless, this little boy sat down. And I talked to him. His caregiver (who was at the end of her rope because he was giving her quite the hard time) ended up joining us. I could tell she was uncomfortable at first, wondering if the Muslim woman on the swing would be bothered by her small charge, and then wondering what in the world she would talk about while on a swing with a Muslim woman. She needn't worry, though, I love children, and I quickly started a conversation with her about our boys. I bet at first she was surprised at my English, but she hid it well if she was, and I'm pleased to say that when she took a call on her cell phone (that I'm sure she thought I couldn't hear) she said 'a woman on a swing' and not 'a Muslim woman on a swing.' This woman is a-okay, in my book. Maybe she had previous experiences, or maybe today was the first time that her eyes were opened to the humanity of Islam. Too often, I think, Muslim sisters keep to themselves for fear of discrimination. Some people misinterpret it as a feeling of superiority, though, and new prejudices and stereotypes are developed.

Children are our common ground. Children are not born with prejudice or fear. Children can bring us all together.This is my amazing friend Khadija. She is a refugee. She has been through more hell on earth than I will insha'Allah ever experience. I was looking for pictures of children online but then thought of the amazing children I worked with at Refugee Family Services. I volunteered there for only a week, and I will never be the same. I would love to move there and work full time after graduation...but I don't think my husband was very fond of that state. I also know my family would complain about how far we'd be.... I'd really like to be there, though, if not there, then another place like it. I have never met such amazing people before in my life. Ahhh...reminiscing...sorry. :)