I’ve lost my heart That invincible 17 year old that resides in all of us Ready to take on the world, swiftly shifting challenges Equipped to take on all opponents without the slightest apprehension To seek and conquer all dreams like a Shabazz warrior to leave my mark Stamping it for generations to follow in my footsteps as I follow those before
I’ve lost that which defined my ambitions That unwillingness to except only success from future endeavors Like a low ranking knight perceptive to his place in this world Once I was a king eager to lead a victorious army Now a Prince unable to ascend to the throne Clouded thoughts will one day give way to the path where my heart awaits Above all, I must stay true
Having lived in a multitude of cities across this vast country, I’ve learned there is one problem in the Muslim community that no one speaks of. The differences between the African-American and “Immigrant” Muslim communities have held Muslims in America back for almost 50 years now. It’s it time to get over these differences and move forward? A few moments brought this issue to light for me.
Between 2003-2005 I lived in an African-American Muslim community in North Minneapolis, MN. Although the community was 95% African-America, the leaders of the mosque seemed extremely open to joint participation between the two groups. I never noticed the separation between the groups until 2004 when I joined a group of older men and drove to Chicago for The Mosque Cares Annual Conference sponsored by Imam W.D. Muhammad.Topics included the richness of Muslim Identity in North America with the influx of slaves from Muslim areas of Africa. For me, it showed me that the history and Islamic Identity of Muslims was not lost as most people think. I stood and observed numerous photo displays of old slave churches that had Arabic carved into the back of pews and headstones in cemeteries written in Arabic. African-American Muslims are proud of their continuous presence in a country that has refused to take noticed of them. But on the other side of town ISNA, which is comprised of the immigrant Muslim communities, held their own conference at the same time without recognition. We were encouraged to branch out to our Muslim brothers and sister and attend their conference, although no one felt inclined because no one from their conference wanted to hear what we had to say about life in America and our right to build a larger inclusive Muslim community. One more stated in passing that "I refused to be treated as a red headed stepchild by other Muslims. Haven't white people done that to us enough?"
Now it seems that in the post September 11th world, the Islamic identity of America has been held hostage instead of shared mainly by the immigrant Muslim population. Just after the World Trade Center attacks Oprah hosted a show made up of Muslim women. Not one of those women was African-American. It was as if we had been overlooked for our sisters who are first generation American Muslims. Not to discount their plight, but I found it highly uneasy that not one African-American women was asked to be on the show, even though African-Americans make up the dominate Muslim population in America. Do we not have a voice when it comes to being singled out for viscous attack and misunderstanding from the American populous? Outside of Native Americans, African-American, Muslim or not have been fighting the stigma of being pariah’s in America for 400 years. African-American Muslims don't want others to bow down to use, but at the same time we don't want others to think that we have to bow down to them or admit to some kind of superiority complex that other groups may have.
In 2002, I took a trip to an African-America mosque in Kansas City, Missouri. It hadn’t been a year since the attacks in New York and DC and as I walked through the men's door I easily felt a tension in the air. A week before my arrival, while everyone was in the middle of jummah prayer, a white man walked in the front door of the mosque with a gun. The men in the room quickly subdued him and called the police. After that the community was never the same. People in America took out their aggression on any Muslims they could find, not just Arabs or anyone who looked Middle Eastern. We all bore the brunt of Americans rage, but it seemed when African-Americans tried to comfort our Muslim neighbors we were largely ignored and marginalized as “not being real Muslims.” Until we find a way to unite, we will only fight like siblings in the front yard for all the neighbors to see.
Aha It's dat real Yo, why is Jadakiss as hard as it gets Why is the industry designed to keep the artist in debt And why them dudes ain't ridin' if they part of yo set And why they never get it poppin' but they party to death Yea, and why they gon give you life for a murder Turn around only give you eight months for a burner, it's goin down Why they sellin' ni**az CD's for under a dime If it's all love daddy why you come wit your nine Why my ni**az ain't get that cake Why is a brother up North better than Jordan That ain't get that break Why you ain't stackin' instead of tryin' to be fly Why is rattin' at an all time high Why are you even alive Why they kill Tupac n' Chris Why at the bar you ain't take straight shots instead of poppin Crist' Why them bullets have to hit that door Why did Kobe have to hit that raw Why he kiss that whore Why
All that I been givin' Is this thing that I've been living They got me in the system Why they gotta do me like that Try'd to make it my way But got sent up on the highway Why, oh why Why they gotta do me like that
Why would ni**az push pounds and powder Why did Bush knock down the towers Why you around them cowards Why Aaliyah have to take that flight Why my ni**a D ain't pull out his Ferrari Why he take that bike Why they gotta open your package and read your mail Why they stop lettin' ni**az get degreez in jail Why you gotta do eighty-five percent of your time And why do ni**az lie in eighty-five percent of they rhymes Why a ni**a always want what he can't have Why I can't come through in the pecan Jag Why did crack have to hit so hard Even though it's almost over Why ni**az can't get no jobs Why they come up wit the witness protection Why they let the terminator win the election Come on, pay attention Why sell in the stores what you can sell in the streets Why I say the hottest shit but we sellin' the least
Uh, yea, yo Why Halle have to let a white man pop her to get a Oscar Why Denzel have to be crooked before he took it Why they didn't make the CL6 wit a clutch And if you don't smoke why the hell you reachin' for my dutch Why rap, cause I need air time Why be on the curb wit a "why lie I need a beer" sign Why all the young ni**az is dyin' Cause they moms at work, they pops is gone, they livin' wit iron Why they ain't give us a cure for aids Why my diesel have fiends in the spot on the floor for days Why you screamin' like it's slug, it's only the hawk Why my buzz in L.A. ain't like it is in New York Why you forcin' you to be hard Why ain't you a thug by choice Why the whole world love my voice Why try to tell 'em that it's the flow son And you know why they made the new twenties Cause I got all my old ones That's why
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