Debora Vickers-Mawji
403 Wateroak Wynd
Sunset Beach, NC 28468
910-579-4714
debora@xaranda.net
What's it like to be an American woman married to a Muslim man? I get
this question all the time. Before 9-11, people were friendly, kind, and
accepting despite the obvious differences between our family and the average
"Bible Belt" family of North Carolina. We speak different, we look
different, we ARE different. Nonetheless, our two restaurants were busy, patronized
by locals and tourists alike; our children were happy, and all was well with
the world. Then everything changed in one terrible day.
The first and most dramatic difference had to be the way people looked
at my husband, Karim. He looks Middle Eastern, even though he is not. He has an
accent, despite the fact he has lived in the US since he was ten years old.
Neighbors who used to wave, or stop by for friendly chats suddenly looked
uncomfortable when we were around. They skulked by, watching nervously as if
they expected us to start lobbing bombs we had concealed beneath our T-shirt
and shorts. Business income dropped dramatically. We were forced to let
employees go, and close our second location. Racial slurs started rolling in. I
will never forget the look on my husband's face when a man went so far as to
spit at him and call him a "Sand Nigger", right inside of our
restaurant. Then, to my horror, I discovered the apple tree in our back yard
had been chopped down. What was next? Was I going to find my husband swinging
from a tree? Were we going to be attacked by an angry mob? Were our children
going to be harassed in school?
Sadly, for the first time in our lives, we came to realize the
incredible depth of human hatred, fear, and ignorance.
Despite the increasing difficulties after 9-11, we decided to hold an
"All You Can Eat" Spaghetti dinner to raise money for the victims of
the World Trade Center. We donated all the food for the cause, despite the fact
we were flat broke and faced foreclosure on our business property. Employees
and friends volunteered their day off to help us out. To our great surprise, we
ended up serving over two hundred people in an hour and a half, and raised well
over a thousand dollars. The people who showed up had to be the kindest souls
we have ever met. There were loyal friends, but mostly it was a house full of
generous strangers who deeply cared for others in need, and wanted to help in
any way they could. Many stuffed three to four times the amount owed for their
dinners into the fund-raiser jars, offering warm smiles of reassurance, and
hugs of appreciation. In addition to the funds we raised, they gave us
something money could never buy… faith in our fellow man.
With renewed strength, we held our heads high, knowing we had nothing
to be ashamed of. We struggled to hang on even through the most difficult of
times. Gradually, the tide began to turn. The restaurant started to pick up
again, and we caught up with all of our bills. The awful man who spit at my
husband was arrested for felony assault on a police officer in Texas. Deep and
meaningful friends had sifted from the chafe of humanity; and our children's
friends, much to our relief, had never even blinked a wary eye, unlike so many
of the adults around them.
One day as we stood on our back porch, my husband and I watched in
astonishment as an unusually large beaver emerged from the pond and dragged off
what was left of our apple tree. Apparently, she was the evil culprit who had
cut it down, and with great determination was back to finish the job. At that
moment, through our laughter, we knew our lives could never be about hate or
fear. Our life together had always been about love, despite our cultural and
religious differences; love for family, love for friends, and most of all, love
for the people who are willing to give others a chance, no matter who they are.
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Trained in legal and creative writing, DJVM writes primarily for
newspapers. She is marketing an original script, "Shattered Pearl";
based upon her husband's family struggle to survive in Uganda, under one of the
most brutal dictatorships in recorded history. The script was a Quarter Finalist
of the 2002 Scriptapalooza Scriptwriting contest. She is currently working on
another script, which may be adapted into a musical.
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