Monday, July 29, 2013

What I Learned Over Dinner With a Former Muslim Extremist

I consider myself to be an open person. I love diversity.  People from other cultures intrigue me and I have found all my interactions with people different than me to be beautiful and engaging.

That said, I did not expect to be sharing a meal with a former Muslim extremist who had terrorist ties this past Thursday evening.  Life has a way of surprising you.

Just some brief background here.  I don't talk much about the fact that I am co-owner of a company that works in leadership development.  But every year, my colleagues and I attend a leadership forum where people share creative ideas about how they are implementing different leadership practices in the corporate, private, educational, government and non-profit sectors.

This past week I sat in on a session that was led by Hanif Qadir, said former Muslim extremist.  



He told a bit of his story to start off the session.  He is a Muslim, born and raised in London.  Shortly after the war in Afghanistan began, he was recruited by a radical Muslim extremist group to come to Pakistan and Afghanistan and join in the fight against the enemy- namely, Americans.

Along with many others, he was upset about all of the killing of innocent people (new statistics that I researched personally show that 116,000 civilians have died in Afghanistan alone) - he wanted to help stop it.  On the streets of London he was approached by someone who played on his empathy towards his people who were dying and convinced him the only way to help was to go to the Middle East and join in the fight.  They twisted the words and context of the Koran, using his deep faith in Islam to persuade him that what they were doing was the only way.  It wasn't until later that a Muslim in Afghanistan urged him to see how the radical group he was working with was only causing more death and violence.  Indeed, his compassion for people's pain had been played upon and used to radicalize him and his faith.  He wanted out.  He was bold enough to go the extremists and tell them he wanted to leave and refused further participation.  In all reality they should have killed him, but he somehow managed to talk his way out and went back to London.

It was then that he realized what danger the Muslim youth on the streets of London were in.  Upon his return to England, Hanif and his brothers put all their resources and energy into reaching out to the vulnerable Muslim youth in London.  Many of them were being approached and told the same things that he had been told - that violence was the only way.  They were being radicalized.  With a Muslim population of well over 2 million people in London, Hanif realized what was at stake if the wrong people got a hold of the Muslim youth - many of whom were already involved in gang violence.  Hanif and his brothers founded The Active Change Foundation, a youth center, where they host discussions and workshops that encourage the kids to think for themselves and be able to identify radicalization tactics and see another way.  He started a youth leadership program, which gets kids off the streets and focuses on developing them in positive ways so that they can be voices for peace and change.  He is viewed by government officials as a leading counter terrorism expert, as he has the unique advantage of knowing the tactics extremist groups employ.

The work he does is dangerous.  There are many Muslims who don't support what he is doing.  He receives much hostility from within his own community.  His family has been attacked and threatened to the point that when Hanif goes out of town, a female police officer comes and stays with his family to protect them.  And yet, he believes enough in the importance of his work to press on despite this. You can watch Hanif explain his work and tell some of his story HERE.

So, that's a little background on Hanif.  Fast forward to Thursday night.

Thursday evening we had a dinner event that everyone from the conference attended.  I was sitting with my coworkers when I looked over in the corner of the room and noticed Hanif and Samuil (the 16 year old he had brought with him who is a part of the leadership program) sitting at the end of a large table by themselves.  (Side note: while they were at the end of the table together, there were actually quite a few other people at the table - conference attendees from Saudi Arabia, China and Nigeria.  What is it with Americans being afraid to bridge the international/cultural gap???!!!! It was literally a table of foreigners eating by themselves while we Americans went along our merry way.  Ugh.  Anyway, I digress.)

I left my coworkers and walked over to their table, asking if I could join them.  They warmly said yes.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous.  After all, what does a white, Christian woman say to a male, former Muslim Extremist???

We just talked - turns out we are both human beings. :)  He told me more about his work and the challenges that he faces.  He talked about their successes.  He talked about his family and his faith.  We talked about how our past shapes our future course.  We had much the same conversation that you or I would have had if we had sat down together over a meal.

I learned that we shared similar passions.  Both of us care about the younger generations.  Both of us want to ensure they grow up empowered to make good choices, which will ultimately help them change the world.  Both of our hearts are compassionate towards those who suffer.  Both of us are energized when unlikely sources unite to make a difference together.

I learned that I was holding views of Muslims in general that were wrong, as much as I didn't want to think I was.  There is fear in the unknown, and truth be told I haven't known many Muslims.  In America especially, the media shapes our opinions of Muslims - and not for the better. We are subtly and not so subtly taught to think that most Muslims are violent extremists and that is simply not true.

I learned that there is power in humility. As I sat there listening to Hanif and Samuil share I felt compelled to ask for their forgiveness.  So I did.  I told them that I was a Christian and that I realized many American Christians especially, have been perpetuating hate and judgment towards Muslims.  I told them that I didn't think Jesus was proud of that at all and that I believe He wants us all to have love for each other.  I'm quite sure that surprised him a good bit as he looked down at the table and said it wasn't necessary to apologize.  But I told him it was necessary.  It was necessary for me, anyway.

I learned that we've both experienced and propagated the worst of our respective religions.  He pursued violence as the only way and I pursued judgment, which in the end is a form of violence itself.  Just like him, I have had people twist and take out of context the words of the God I love until in the end, He looked nothing like who He really was.  I was sucked in and acted accordingly, under the thumb of a God I had to please and whom I could never do enough for.  While the damage Hanif inflicted may have had a physically violent bent, the damage I inflicted on people was hate and rejection.

I learned that until we set our fear and our differences aside, nothing will ever change in this world.  We have more in common with each other than we ever imagined.  The fact that I could find more similar shared experiences and feelings with a former Muslim extremist than I could differences is proof of that.  It took courage on both our parts. It took courage for Hanif to be drilled by Homeland Security on his way into the US to speak to us about the power of caring for others.  It took courage for him to stand before a room full of Americans committed to leading well, not knowing what they might be thinking about the things he was sharing.  And it took courage for me to walk across the room and spend an hour or so in conversation with someone I never dreamed I'd spend one second with.

I'm obviously still processing all of this in my head and I'm sure I will have more insights as time goes on, but I'm left with the thought that the world would be a different place if we all displayed more courage and humility... if we let down our walls that make us feel so secure and at times, superior.  What would the world look like if black and white, Muslim and Christian, Democrat and Republican could just let our guards down and see each other for who God has made us to be?  What would it look like to approach our differences with humility, rather than pride?  I think we'd find deep friendships and meaningful interactions with our fellow human beings who are different than us.

We allow our differences to define us.  Perhaps it's time we allow our commonalities to have a turn.

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Building Something Good


"I believe that suffering is part of the narrative, and that nothing really good gets built when everything's easy. I believe that loss and emptiness and confusion often give way to new fullness and wisdom." - Shauna Niequist

Well, now. If I were the shout "amen" type, I'd be shouting right now- probably loudly and repeatedly. I've been in a season where nothing has been easy lately. In fact, I have written and then promptly deleted four blog posts on here because it was too hard to convey what was going on in my heart and mind. I mean come on, I don't even really know what's going on in there half the time! So, I'm giving this a fifth go and we shall see if it sticks.

Back to the wise Ms. Shauna... I read those words of hers on a day when I felt like loss and emptiness and confusion were just giving way to more loss and emptiness and confusion. Because let's face it- we have those days too. Days when even though we want to believe that the hard stuff brings something good in the end, it sure doesn't seem like it is in the moment. But her words struck a chord in me.

The past few years have been downright HARD - in every area, really - especially recently. You can start to feel like you're alone in the struggle - that everyone else's life is easy peasy (whatever the heck peasy means). Then there are those few trusted friends whose eyes you can look into and just know that it hasn't been easy peasy for them either. I think if we just took the time to look a little deeper into each other's eyes more often, we'd find that our common ground is our struggle.

I was at the grocery store a few weeks ago checking out and a worn looking elderly gentleman got in line behind me in his little electric cart. I glanced over at him and smiled to which he replied with "Well, darlin, do you ever have a smile on you! You could light up a room!" Little did he know that moments before I flashed him that smile I was fighting back tears as I slid my check card through the machine. I thanked him and looked at him - I mean, REALLY looked at him. And you could see signs of the struggle written in his eyes and all over his face. What I wanted to really say was "Me too", not "thank you". As I pushed my groceries away with my kids in tow, I heard him say something to the cashier about how he was going to split his small purchase between two credit cards and how he hoped they'd work. Struggle. From the surface we can all seem so different, but it's the common occurrence of struggle at its core that connects us.

I'm grateful for those people who are willing to share their hard and gritty with the world. Because inevitably, they get to the other side of the hard and they tell you how something really good was built through the really hard. And you sigh with relief that it really does happen - that you do become stronger through your weakness, that you learn things you otherwise would never have learned that are going to serve you well in the future, and that you ultimately heal and move forward. So thank you, gritty sharers. The world needs more of you.

I'm through the raw, oozing, not sure what to do with myself part of the "hard" that has come my way lately. There were moments I wasn't sure I would ever pick myself up off the carpet, but here I am, sitting in a chair. :) It's easy to get lost in the emptiness and pain and wonder when the next "easy" stage is going to come. Or if it ever will. This morning I read something that resonated with me. It said "The next step will come, but you don't need to rush. Enjoy your life as it is - not as what it will be." And it reminded me that I'm building something good right now. Rather, God is building something good. It is hard, but it IS good. The struggle makes it good because it's fought for tooth and nail. Even though there's so much I don't understand, I catch glimpses of the goodness that's coming out of it, even now. And one day, maybe not as soon as I'd like, but one day - I will be the one to look someone else in the eyes and tell them that I got to the other side and that all the hard actually built something pretty darn beautiful. I will say "me too" and see them sigh with relief that they aren't alone in their struggle. Because none of us are, or at least we don't have to be.

Suffering is part of all our narratives, whether we will admit it or not. We are all born into the struggle, but we are meant to struggle through together. So, let down. Let someone in. Let someone take a long deep look in your eyes at what's going on with you. Don't walk the struggle out all alone. We were made to see something really good get built out of all the hard together.

And to that end, I'm going to hit "publish" and commit to not pressing delete this time. :)