Non-Fiction: Untitled

Hiba Ali, BFR Staff

Sitting in front of the computer, you’re only trying to finish that last assignment for the night. You have been struggling to keep your eyes open and can feel the heavy weight of your day slowing your fingers.

PING

You get a desktop notification for Twitter. You quickly look around to make sure no one notices you leaving your Word document. It’s a well-deserved break! You’ve been working hard and just need two minutes away from academia.

What is it? A funny video? A vine? 140 characters that speak to the very depths of your soul?

A hashtag.

#ChapelHillShooting

What? Wait a minute. You have to Google this…what are the facts. Is this some stupid joke?

Two articles. TWO ARTICLES.

This is all you can find.

Three human beings were executed in their home and that is all you can find. No mention that they’re Muslim Americans. No mention of how they were killed. NO MENTION. Jon Stewart is trending at the top in your area. People died and Jon Stewart retiring is more important in the media. Major news networks haven’t even reported on it! Where are the shocked citizens? Where is the outrage?

This was my Tuesday night. I’m a Muslim American, and I honestly thought that meant something. I thought being American afforded me the rights of protection and validation. That was until Chapel Hill. I realize I will always have to prove myself as worth it. Deah, Yusor, and Razan are still trying to validate themselves from the grave. No one wants to call this a hate crime or an act of terrorism. The world lost three people who exemplified what it means to be a good human being. Regardless of what you do or don’t believe in, never forget that they only got a line at the start of this. They weren’t afforded the basic human decency deserved by all. The rest of the world was outraged and I didn’t know until almost eight hours after the fact. My religion is not my only identity, just like it wasn’t the only identity Deah, Yusor, and Razan had. They were so much more than one word. I will never forget that moment Tuesday night when my stomach dropped, and my exhaustion was replaced by fear, anger, and loss. Incredible loss. Loss of lives and loss of security. That is what weighs heavily on my fingers now, and I don’t know if what I type matters or what backlash I will face.

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3 Comments

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    • Merci beaucoup Wendy! J’apprécie vraiment vos soutien et compréhension. Je suis entièrement d’accord avec vous, c’est une message important que les gens doivent reconnaître. (Je suis désolée pour mon mauvais français! Je n’ai pas pratiqué mon français depuis longtemps!)

    • Merci beaucoup Wendy! J’apprécie vraiment vos soutien et compréhension. Je suis entièrement d’accord avec vous, c’est une message important que les gens doivent reconnaître. (Je suis désolée pour mon mauvais français! Je n’ai pas pratiqué mon français depuis longtemps!) -Hiba Ali

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