Muslim American youth reach turning points in Ramadan

At the time, Ali was living with her family in their Jersey City home while undergoing chemotherapy and attending law school virtually. Her mother quit her job as a teacher in New York to avoid contracting the virus, and her father and her siblings did their best in her months-long quarantine.

“It was very lonely. I didn’t have a sense of community. I couldn’t feel this special month where you can see people and celebrate every night,” Ali recalled.

Ramadan serves as a spiritual reset for Muslims who use the holy month to draw closer to God through increased prayer, Quran reading, donations to charity, and the general practice of good deeds.

The annual ritual is characterized by refraining from food, drink and sexual activity from shortly before sunrise until sunset in a practice of self-discipline and patience. The overall goal is to encourage those habits and maintain them beyond Ramadan, which ends on Sunday at sunset this year.

Muslims often gather with family and friends for iftar, the after-sunset meal that breaks a day’s fast, a tradition Ali described as “Thanksgiving every night for 30 days.”

But last year, Ali experienced none of that.

“I just remember the fight,” Ali said.

Ali, now 25, said he is full of gratitude for experiencing his first Ramadan this year as a cancer survivor after praying to reach the milestone.

“For some people, especially non-Muslim people, it might be a strange thing to have been asking, asking to have the ability to not eat for the whole day,” Ali said. “But that’s something I really wanted.”

For millions of Muslims, this Ramadan marks a particularly special milestone. It is the first time many have been able to celebrate together safely since the pandemic began. It is also the first time that many are observing the holy month after experiencing significant changes in their own lives.

CNN spoke to American Muslims who reflected on how this year’s Ramadan marks a turning point for them. This is what they had to say.

First Ramadan as a Muslim convert

Amanda Rushlow’s soul-searching journey began with an existential question: “I remember asking God, ‘What must I do to get to heaven?'”

The question arose during a plant medicine ceremony in Peru last year, at a time in his life when he was searching for spirituality and trying to get closer to God.

The response was an epiphany that led her to read the Bible extensively and explore Christianity, but noted what she described as a “dissonance” in faith between what was often preached and what the Bible taught.

He then started having conversations about faith with a Muslim friend. To her surprise at the time, his beliefs had overwhelming similarities.

“I remember a lot of things would be lining up,” Rushlow told CNN. And she wondered, “How is that true? … One of us has to be wrong, and I was very convinced that I was the one who was right.”

Rushlow followed her friend’s advice to investigate the Prophet Muhammad, whom Muslims believe to be the messenger of the faith, but with the goal of finding fault with the beliefs. And after going down the rabbit hole of the Internet where she perused articles and videos, it was time to go to the source: the Koran, Islam’s holy book.

He heard it on a drive from his home in Michigan to Arizona.

“I just couldn’t stop listening. I had headphones on the whole time I was hiking. Headphones on the entire flight there and back,” Rushlow told CNN.

And then he hit her: “This is my God,” he said. “I was overwhelmed.”

As she reflects on her first Ramadan as a Muslim, she was filled with uplifting emotions, especially during her first visit to a mosque during nightly prayers. She also found community in the Detroit area with other women who converted to the faith.

“My heart felt so raw and open,” he said.

Rushlow has spent the month reading the Qur’an, writing in a journal and developing the habit of praying the five daily obligatory prayers.

“It felt like a great gift to receive Islam. It is an honour… I will not eat happily out of obedience and submission,” he said. “It warms my heart a lot to be able to participate.”

First Ramadan in a new city as a queer Muslim

For the past five years, Sharmin Hossain has missed the spirit of Ramadan.

The 29-year-old was in a relationship and living in New York City with a partner who did not observe the holy month. He also did not take care of his other spiritual practices.

“I just didn’t have anyone to break my fast with,” he said. “I remember how lonely I was.”

For Hossain, this Ramadan has marked a new stage in his life. She is single for the first time in five years and is using the time to go to Friday prayers more, “which is a big deal for me,” Hossain said, adding that she goes offline for two hours to attend the sermon and the weekly prayer. .

He also celebrates the holy month in a new city after moving to Philadelphia a few months ago.

“The first few days were surprisingly some of the most beautiful days because all my friends broke their fast with me every day,” Hossain said.

One of her close friends who is not a Muslim has also been exercising and fasting with her.

“The community part is something I didn’t know was really missing from my experiences and why previous Ramadans were so much harder just to get through the day,” he said.

This year, Philadelphia’s slower pace has also allowed for more community gatherings.

“It just feels very close and cuddly,” he told CNN. “This was definitely a more special Ramadan being single and being able to intentionally fast differently and go out to pray alone.”

As a queer Muslim, she said she often gets shocked reactions from people when they find out she practices the faith.

After his divorced parents found out about his queer identity about five years ago, he became estranged from his mother. But her father has been accepting and supporting who she is.

“When I’m in a mosque, I don’t think, ‘Oh, I’m a queer Muslim. May Allah forgive me and accept my prayers,'” she said. “I walk into the mosque knowing that I am a divine creature of the most Divine, and Allah knows that I worship Him and Him alone, and I am here to do that and not to be a sinner because I exist as a queer Muslim. “

First full Ramadan away from family

Living alone for the first time brings its own set of challenges, and with Ramadan coming at a time when Mohsin Mirza was taking on a new job thousands of miles from family and friends, it added to the emotionally and mentally challenging experience.

“I definitely miss the community vibe. There are people whose faces you don’t see except for a few months of the year, and this is one of those months,” said Mirza, 28, who recently moved to Washington, DC, from Area of California Bay.

“There is more nostalgia now than in another month,” he said. “So there’s a certain detachment.”

Ramadan is one of those times when Mirza feels a greater sense of being a minority within a minority in the US because there are slight differences in the way people from both sects choose to practice. Shia Muslims break their fast a little later than Sunni Muslims and commemorate certain days during the holy month in specific ways.

While Mirza said he feels Ramadan unites the entire Muslim community, he felt the distinctions more this year when he went to iftar events and was surrounded by Sunnis who rushed to break their fast before him.

“It makes you feel a little bit different and it puts you in the spot,” he said. “There’s always a bit of discomfort… It can be the source of some discomfort.”

In another event, fast-breaking hours were announced for both Shias and Sunnis.

“It’s kind of a small example of respect and inclusion that helps those of us who are a minority within the broader Muslim community to feel that the institutions that were set up for the Muslim community are also for us,” he said.

Mirza also described experiencing some difficulty accessing a mosque for Shia Muslims in the DC area without a car. He has attended prayer at his local mosque, but prefers to visit a Shia mosque when possible.

Overall, Mirza said the experience has affirmed his view that the Muslim community around the world is more similar than different.

“In so many spaces, our communities are integrated and working together,” he said. “When those differences come up, it’s an opportunity to discuss why, and that can lead to mutual respect and understanding.”