Bilal Abdur-Raheem
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Greetings and asalamu alaikum my name is Bilal. Formerly Chandler, now Bilal Abdur-Raheem.
Whew my story is long and I wasn't sure whether to simply introduce myself or tell my story, but I feel my story helps define who I am so here goes.
I am a 100% white anglo saxon american male. I was born in middle Tennessee and raised on the outskirts of Nashville. I was raised by my mother and step-father, who was a stereo-typical racist redneck in and out of jail, but feared and respected by those around him. So I was of course raised to be a redneck tough guy type. Well in'91 the gulf war happened and in the aftermath our town was flooded with Iraqi immigrants. Naturally the rednecks weren't happy about this and growing up the adults always encouraged us to fight the Iraqi kids.
Eventually I became a sort of "leader" for the racist kids in the neighborhood. I was never afraid to fight anybody who wanted problems with me, and while I didn't like blacks, hispanics, or asians, my worst hate was reserved for the Arabs that we of course referred to by a derogatory epithet.
Eventually a real Muslim community developed in the area as immigrants from Yemen, Lebanon, and Somalia joined those Iraqi's that had originally moved into the neighborhood. And after my older peers moved on and began adult life I was left in charge of the white gang that roamed the streets lookin for a fight. The other kids looked up to me and came to me, I demanded absolute loyalty, and lived to " bust Muslim heads."
At the same time I was busy being the "leader" of the white boys faction, a kid named Mahmoud, known mostly by simply "M" was the leader of the Muslim kids. Many times our groups clashed and qe always searched one another out on the battlefield. M was one tough guy ai always respected.
As luck would have it, or as I view it now the work of Allah praise and glory to Him, there was a huge music festival that most of the gang went to. I'm sure many here have heard of it as it is super famous in middle TN, but being on probation I stayed home. So as far as my group was concerned I was home alone. Getting bored pretty fast I soon wondered the streets under the influence of a few beers.
Sure enough I encountered M and a group of Muslim kids and we began to trade insults from across the street. Being prideful, cocky, and with some serious beer muscles I eventually crossed the street. A decision I immediately regretted as the Muslim kids proceeded to commence in beating me senseless. I was able to run a block or so before collapsing and being beat and stomped some more.
As the beating was going on, a Muslim Iraqi man in his 50's named Qaseem came out of his house and screamed at the Muslim kids to leave me alone while pulling me inside his home.
As a young foolish racist of course I didn't want to be in the home of a Muslim Arab and told Qaseem as much. He reminded me the alternative was to return to the beating he had saved me from. I did grudgingly thank him for his help and actually stayed at his gome for 4 hours talking
Whew my story is long and I wasn't sure whether to simply introduce myself or tell my story, but I feel my story helps define who I am so here goes.
I am a 100% white anglo saxon american male. I was born in middle Tennessee and raised on the outskirts of Nashville. I was raised by my mother and step-father, who was a stereo-typical racist redneck in and out of jail, but feared and respected by those around him. So I was of course raised to be a redneck tough guy type. Well in'91 the gulf war happened and in the aftermath our town was flooded with Iraqi immigrants. Naturally the rednecks weren't happy about this and growing up the adults always encouraged us to fight the Iraqi kids.
Eventually I became a sort of "leader" for the racist kids in the neighborhood. I was never afraid to fight anybody who wanted problems with me, and while I didn't like blacks, hispanics, or asians, my worst hate was reserved for the Arabs that we of course referred to by a derogatory epithet.
Eventually a real Muslim community developed in the area as immigrants from Yemen, Lebanon, and Somalia joined those Iraqi's that had originally moved into the neighborhood. And after my older peers moved on and began adult life I was left in charge of the white gang that roamed the streets lookin for a fight. The other kids looked up to me and came to me, I demanded absolute loyalty, and lived to " bust Muslim heads."
At the same time I was busy being the "leader" of the white boys faction, a kid named Mahmoud, known mostly by simply "M" was the leader of the Muslim kids. Many times our groups clashed and qe always searched one another out on the battlefield. M was one tough guy ai always respected.
As luck would have it, or as I view it now the work of Allah praise and glory to Him, there was a huge music festival that most of the gang went to. I'm sure many here have heard of it as it is super famous in middle TN, but being on probation I stayed home. So as far as my group was concerned I was home alone. Getting bored pretty fast I soon wondered the streets under the influence of a few beers.
Sure enough I encountered M and a group of Muslim kids and we began to trade insults from across the street. Being prideful, cocky, and with some serious beer muscles I eventually crossed the street. A decision I immediately regretted as the Muslim kids proceeded to commence in beating me senseless. I was able to run a block or so before collapsing and being beat and stomped some more.
As the beating was going on, a Muslim Iraqi man in his 50's named Qaseem came out of his house and screamed at the Muslim kids to leave me alone while pulling me inside his home.
As a young foolish racist of course I didn't want to be in the home of a Muslim Arab and told Qaseem as much. He reminded me the alternative was to return to the beating he had saved me from. I did grudgingly thank him for his help and actually stayed at his gome for 4 hours talking
