The uproar over the decision by Lowe’s Home Improvement and Kayak.com to pull advertising from the TLC show All-American Muslim has once again forced a spotlight on an issue that’s been plaguing American society for over a decade: what place do Muslim-Americans have in this society? Are we going to keep treating men and women who have the audacity to wear Islamic clothing at arm’s length, keep placing them in a “Not Guilty, Not Innocent” purgatory because of a heinous act committed by extremists, or can we finally stop acting like the pouty kid in the playground and move on? A quick glance around at the media landscape makes it deceptively easy to pick sides. North Carolina clergy delivering a petition containing 200K signatures to Lowe’s HQ demanding an apology is right. Russell Simmons personally buying ad time abandoned by Lowe’s is right. Lowe’s VP of Marketing Tom Lamb claiming the decision to pull the ads was “absolutely not influenced by any one group” when the fringe group in question, the Florida Family Association, has released an email that explicitly informs them of the action taken by Lowe’s mere hours after the FFA alerted them: boo! Bigotry masquerading as family values! In the midst of calls for tolerance and boycotting evil corporations, the actual cast members of the show have gone largely silent. One exception to this is Nader and Nawal Aoude, who recently spoke to USA Today:
Nader and Nawal Aoude speak to USA Today about the controversy.
What I found most surprising watching the couple was their desire to communicate to the Florida Family Association that they have a common enemy: Islamic fanaticism. “We’re normal, just like you,” Nader says at one point, trying to placate an adversary that that is currently lobbying Mars-Wrigley to pull candy ads airing during episodes of Degrassi on Teen Nick because it “promotes homosexual and transgender lifestyles”. Can an organization that conjures up demons from every nook and cranny really be placated? Why would you want to? My guess is the ambiguity of the message contained in the Aoudes’ video is why it hasn’t gone viral. Americans in the midst of a fight are obsessed over black and white, less so about the greys. But the latter is where you’ll find Muslims trying to make a life for themselves in Post-9/11 America. Much as we’d like to view this as a battle between free-thinking Americans and bigoted corporations, there is a significant portion of this country that agrees with the decision to pull the ads. Comments from Michiganites (the show is filmed in Dearborn) on MLive.com urge Lowe’s not to crumble in the face of “PC agendas and liberals” while mourning the debasement of Christian values. Furthermore, it was only May 2010 that a campaign led by radical Islamophobe Pamela Geller and abetted by The New York Post turned plans for an Islamic community center located near Ground Zero into a lightning rod for “us versus them” controversy. The only difference was that Muslims were the enemy in that particular go-round, aggressors thumbing their noses at the victims of 9/11 and America in general (Justin Elliott at Salon.com offers a brilliant timeline of events). Where was the public outrage then? Where were the beneficent hip-hop moguls and #boycottnewyorkpost tweets? How much of what we’re seeing today comes from a genuine desire to band together as one, and how much guilt over an atmosphere of racism that has seen more than 800 reported incidents of violence, vandalism, and arson directed against Muslims, Arabs and South Asians in the ten years following 9/11?
I remember going to school at age 9 on a rainy day, unexceptional in every way but one: Karl, the steroidal class bully, had discovered a new word: Paki. He tried it out on me at recess. A few of my classmates laughed. I felt heat creeping across my face. He said it again. This time, the laughter was louder. The faces of kids I knew grew strange, like they’d been play-acting all this time and now, finally, the truth was coming out: I did not belong. I was a joke. It went on in this vein throughout that rainy, interminable day. At some point I stopped really listening and taking part in things. All I could obsess over were differences. The color of my skin. The faint smell of spices that lingered in my house. The way others kept their distance like I’d been infected by a contagious disease.
Like the families of All-American Muslim, salvation came in unexpected form. Dallas, a faithful friend with a legendarily criminal older brother, made Karl shut up. It was over. But whenever I see these grand displays of heroism directed towards minorities, I can’t help wishing for a world where they weren’t necessary.
*Featured Image Courtesy of Shailendra Pandey/Tehelka
This post was written by
Anish Majumdar – who has written 22 posts on DashAmerican.com.
Anish Majumdar is the creator of DashAmerican.com, a site devoted to insights at the intersection of cultures. He is of Bengali descent, raised in Canada, and currently living with his Irish-German-Lithuanian wife in upstate NY. His work has received Independent Press Association Awards and a Pushcart Prize nomination.
