By Qasim Rashid
My wife reminded me we were running late. I closed an article about Peter King’s self-aggrandizing radicalization hearings and grabbed my car keys.
My phone buzzed — an email from a reader. “I wish Muslims would stay the hell out of our Christian country and go back where they came from.” I sighed and finished securing my 2-year-old in his car seat. (And I was just beginning to like it here.)
As we hit the road, I hit the radio in time to hear Herman Cain certify that Muslims would not serve on his Presidential cabinet. I decided I wasn’t in the mood for talk radio anyway and turned on John Lennon instead, desperately in need of instant karma.
Instant karma didn’t quite make it.
Instead, as I stopped at a red light a not so gentle man rolled down his window to tell me to “Go back home you —-ing Ay-raabs, you don’t —-ing belong here you stupid —-ing Ay-raabs! Get out of my —-ing country you God —- Ay-raabs.”
Did I mention he thought I was Arab?
I swallowed my ego, wished peace upon him as the Quran teaches (25:64) and moved on.
Categories: Islamophobia, United States
A frightening article! Luckily a reader in Huffington Post invited the author wholeheartedly to his own BBQ – thus balancing that days experience.