In a sea of broken dreams salma's weekly blog

My name is Salma Hassan. I'm a 17 year old American Muslim. Yes, that wasn't a typo. You read it correctly. I am an American Muslim, born and raised. Although this brings discomfort to some ignorant people, we do exist.

I live in a small town, mainly consisting of retired white Conservatives. From their porch side rocking chairs, they probably see me as some foreigner who smuggled her way into this country. Don't get me wrong, there are some decent people where i live. Like the guy across the street who threatened to shoot my cat, if her paws ever touched his driveway. Or the lady who gave us brownies with pebbles that looked like chocolate chips, i guess that was her version of a house warming gift. Coming from a Muslim family, we are taught to look past these things. We make excuses for people. Just the fact that she took the time to bake us something is warming enough. maybe the pebbles found their way into the batter. maybe the guy who threatened to shoot my cat was once attacked by lions. Look i don't know their story, but what i do know is people deserve a second chance. I'm not saying i'll eat another one of her brownies, but i'll smile at her, i'll say good morning when i see her leaving for work. When i was young my mother used to say "sometime good people do bad things. That doesn't make them bad people".

The other day my mother was driving on the freeway and this women in the car beside her just randomly flicked her off. My mother was so confused but just kept driving. A couple of seconds later the women starts honking her horn to get my moms attention, and when my mom looked at her the women formed her fingers into the shape of a gun and pointed it at my mom. She then mouthed "i will kill you" my mom wanted to fight back but instead she just looked the other way. I was so confused as to why my mother didn't defend herself so i asked her. She then said to me "there were kids in her car that looked helpless and i didn't want to make them think their mother had enemies". I was shocked. The rage that i felt made me oblivious to the fact that there were kids with her. The rest of the car ride was filled with the sound of raindrops and my thoughts.

I enjoy poetry. I find peace in it when pieces of me are missing. I've only ever preformed once, in front of a small crowd. I hope to one day be confident enough in myself to preform in front of a large audience. To be completely honest i don't know what i am looking for in these blogs. Maybe i'm not searching, maybe i want to be found. There are things i am dying to say but i cant find the people to say them to. I was taught to keep quiet at all times, because voices of women aren't meant to be heard. So i did, for most of my life. When i was happy or angry, i was quiet. When i was 14 i realized that i wasn't given a tongue to be silent, i can shout, and shout till i lose my voice. In poetry, I feel like i could scream and no one would be there to silence me.

Someday i want to travel the world. There is so much out there that i haven't seen. I know i'm still young, but death is so unexpected. I've lost quiet a bit of people these past couple of years. People i never expected would leave so soon. The phrase "you have your whole life ahead of you" is inaccurate because death doesn't know age. I guess i don't want to leave a world that i haven't seen or a life that i haven't explored, i mean for Gods sake i never even left the U.S.

Enough rambling. I want this first blog to be short. I want you guys to taste the sweetness but not devour it quite yet. I was kinda all over the place, but bare with me as i get used to this whole blogging thing. I hope you guys stay tuned for my next blog. until then...

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Salma H
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