A Trip Down Skid Row

Today some friends and I took the leftovers dinner bags from last night's CAIR Manzanar trip to Skid Row on San Julian St. in Downtown LA. I was nervous and anxious on our way there. I wasn't sure what to expect. I had heard much about this area of downtown. Never have I seen so much loss and agony in one place. Going up and down the street, there were countless men and women walking about aimlessly, sleeping on the sidwalk or lounging. Looking into the faces of the people I saw the pain and loss as well as the dilapitated compliant conditions around them.

Homelessness is a complicated issue. Many of these homeless people could just be down on their luck, mentally ill, veterans to a country that has forsaken them, some could be criminals and fugitives, others may not even be homeless! But nonetheless the state of these people and the condition in which they continue to persist and endure through should not and cannnot be ignored. It is a matter of humanity. To help the poor and defend the weak. Yet despite these grounded idealouges I found myself skwirmming at the sight. I am ashamed to find in myself the feelings of fear, a fear of this strange new world so distant from my conception of home, a fear of saftey, a fear of losing some insignificant material possession. It was a surreal experience. I had always heard of people going to places like this and saying they couldn't believe they were still in America, however you can never truely know what that means unless you go for youself and see it with your own eyes! It hits home taking over your greatest securities of saftey and the idea of the perfect American Dream.

We drove through the street once, surveying a good place to drop the food off. The street itself was only the beginning, all around the block, there were people minding their own business, just a block away from the polic station. After the first drive through we came around again and stopped at a Volunteer Center. There we dropped the 22 sandwich bags containing a turkey sandwich, chips, apple and cookies in a courtyard of more than 50 people. As soon as we dropped it, people swarmmed around the food, taking a bag and devearouing it.

Although we surely did not contribute to ending poverty in America, this experience has brought to surface feelings of my own ungratefullness and weakness. I pray to Allah(swt) to strengthen me as a person, to help me fear him alone and I seek his forgiveness and mercy, I ask Allah(swt) to alleviate the pains of poverty and to give guidance to those who have gone astray. I thank Allah(swt) for his bountiless blessings. As it says in the Qu'ran,

"He has completed His blessings upon you, in open and hidden ways" [31:20]

We can truley never be able to express ourselves in way that would do justice for the innumerable blessings we are each given. But we can say Alhumdullialah and be grateful when we have the opportunity to do so, especially for the greatest blessing of all, faith, something that many of the people of Skid Row have lost. I will definately be going again, if you'd like to join let me know.

Manzanar, Living in a Remebered Present

February 19th 1942, Executive Order 9066, signed by President Franklin Roosevelt, began the forced relocation of thousands of West Coast Japanese Americans to ten concentration camps spread out across the the western continental states. Fueled by war time hysteria and fear following the cowardly attack on Pearl Harbor by the Empire of Japan, Americans of Japanese ancestry were subjected to humiliating treatment and racist attitudes that brought into question their loyalty to America. As early as following the decimation of the American Pacific naval fleet, the FBI moved swiftly to solve the "Japanese Problem" by seizing and arresting "enemy" aliens. The newly created War Relocation Authority (WRA) was charged to create the camps that would eventually become the home of around 120,000 Japanese Americans, 2/3 of which were American born citizens. Of these camps, Manzanar once the prison to hundreds of families, has now been transformed into a site of remembrance, and a endearing reminder of American complancy in the face of injustice.

Located in the desolate and arid Ownes Valley, Manzanar was an enclosed one square-mile area of military style barracks, mess halls, and open fields, that housed over 10,000 people, under the survielence of eight permiemter guard towers. The Japanese were brought to the camps under the pretext that they were going for their own protection, however came to find the guard towers and armed soilders enclosing them behind barbed wires. They had become prisioners, guilty for the crime of being Japanese. What followed for many was three years of an isolated exisitence, void of freedom, lost in confusion and dispair, what followed was three years of unjust imprisonment.

On April 25th, Japanese Americans, Muslims and many other people made an annual pilgirimage to commorate this blotch in American History and to ensure "never again". The experience of the Japanese Americans offers invaluable wisdom to Muslim Americans living in a post 9/11 America, that are faced, as the Japanese did, with a constant unjust scrutinty and harrasment by the Government and general public. Talking with former camp attendees, a constant phrase surfaced, "fighting injustice". These powerful two words, resonate on so many levels and they remind me of a commonly quoted saying of the prophet:

Whosoever sees an evil deed, let him change it with his hand; if he is unable to do so, then with his tounge; if he is unable to do so then with his heart, and that is the weakest of faith. (Muslim)

Having the opportunity to sit down and talk to former internees and learning their stories firsthand was remarkable in and byself. They discussed their own complancent nature at the time, and the post-camp experiences that finally led them to open up to younger generations. They talked about the humiliating expeirneces of encampent in retrospect and the degrading treatment. We also discussed the contemporary issues, Muslims find themselves in today, and idnetified parallel stories.

If we, as Muslims, as activists are to be the catalyst for social bettermant as mandated by the Qu'ran, it is critical that we learn and gain from the past expeirnces of others, and interanlize these struggles in our own, and to work in solidarity with other communities to find justice for the wrongs commited and being commited. In doing so we are taking a proactive approach and emboding the above mentioned hadith. Let us not be complacent with the injustices of today, let us ignore no more the parallel stories of the Japanese Americans and Muslim Americans and gain from what they can offer. Let us speak out against Abu Gharib, Guantanomo Bay, and the secret torture prisons around the world. Let us no longer see it acceptable to allow the FBI to infringe on our civil liberites in overt tactics.

Manzanar was an eye-opening experience that proves to be a reminder to continue to work against the injustices of our day, and find meaning in the past. There is so much to gain from going
.

Fort Minor- Kenji

Going to Manzanar this weekend. Reminded me of this song.