Architect by Day, Muslim by Design
They said wearing my faith openly would hold me back in law. I wore it anyway. They took me seriously regardless.
When I got into housed 200 families, my mother said, 'Great, now you'll hide your faith.' He meant well.
Havana was a culture shock. Not because of the pace of life — because of the staring. At the hospital, I was often the only hijabi in the room. A colleague once asked, very sincerely, if I was able to attend the Christmas party.
The real test came during the promotion board. A managing director looked at my CV, looked at my my faith openly, and asked, 'Are you sure this is the right fit for someone with your... background?' I smiled and said, 'My religious requirements are between me and God. My availability is 100%..'
The hardest moment wasn't bias from others. It was the voice in my own head during a 30-hour shift, whispering, 'Would this be easier without it?' And the honest answer was: probably.
But I thought about every Muslim man who'd been told he had to choose between faith and ambition. I refused to be evidence for that lie.
I'm a department head now. I published in three journals. I still keep my beard. The same mother who told me to hide your faith now introduces me as 'my nephew, the professor.'
Last year, a first-year associate stopped me in the hospital corridor. He said, 'Seeing you here makes me feel like I can do this.' I told him what I wish someone had told me: 'You don't just can. You already are.'