The Challenges of Being Muslim in America Today
New introduction and perspective to my 2017 article
Please attribute any references of this article to Kareem.Substack.com
New Introduction, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, 2021
I’m often asked why I became a Muslim when my parents raised me as a Catholic. In this 2017 article I wrote for The New Arab, I explain the process and the world’s reaction to my decision. I also describe some of the issues I and other Muslim Americans have faced over the years. Even though my conversion took place 50 years ago, some people are still outraged. This week alone I received several angry emails reacting to my Substack articles deliberately referring to me by my birth name and being disparaging about my religion.
Since this article first appeared, things have gotten worse for Muslim Americans under the fervent anti-Muslim policies of the Trump Administration. We now know that much of the Trump Administration’s aggressive campaign against Muslims was to distract Americans from the Administration’s massive failures, including their lack of action to stem COVID-19. Villainizing a group because they look different or pray differently is the default setting of politicians and pundits. What’s surprising, and disappointing, is that it never fails to work. Some people want to hate—and those who want to manipulate haters are the ones who point them at a target.
The Islamophobia that was stoked to a white-hot hatred still exists in the U.S.—as does misogyny, anti-Semitism, racism, anti-LGBTQ+--but I am still hopeful that the next generation will be smarter, less fearful, more logical, and less able to be manipulated by ruthless politicians.
Reprinted from The New Arab, 2017
I’ve been a Muslim-American for nearly fifty years, about the same age as Astroturf and Doritos. During that time, the population of Muslims in America has more than tripled, from a million in 1968, the year of my conversion, to 3.3 million in 2015. Over that same period, my beliefs as a Muslim have evolved, just as America’s attitude toward Muslims has devolved.
I converted while a student at UCLA. We were the reigning national champs in men’s basketball and I was one of the leading players in the country, so whatever I did generated massive national publicity. Announcing I was no longer a Catholic, as my parents had raised me to be, but a Muslim, a religion fairly unknown to most Americans, resulted in mixed reactions. Many people responded the way my teammates did, with curiosity and support. Some people reacted with hostility or indifference.
This is a reader-supported newsletter. Both free and paid subscriptions are available. The best way to join the community and support my work is by taking out a paid subscription.
The hostile group felt personally insulted, as if I’d sucker-punched the Statue of Liberty right after she’d given me a slice of cake. After all, to them I was the example of the Good Negro, the black kid from Harlem who was given a full scholarship to UCLA and became a millionaire athlete. What did I have to gripe about? Of course, those people weren’t around when fans would shout nigger at me from the stands or throw things at me from hotel windows. Nor did they pay attention when states kept passing laws to keep people of color from voting. My people. Yes, I had gotten my piece of the pie, but I couldn’t really enjoy it unless everybody else got a fair shot at their piece, too.