My First Family Visit As a Muslim

As I fly home to Austin, Texas, I remember the days before my conversion to 
Islam. I am reminded of Armando, a Latino Muslim. He helped introduce me to 
Islam. While pointing to the East and then the West, Armando said, "Look 
what God has given us. He created everything. God is All-Powerful." He had 
just finished praying magrib. The beauty of the sunset is still present in 
my mind. "Truly, in remembering Allah do hearts find rest," Allah states in 
the Qur'an 13:28. Looking outside this window, I cannot help grinning as I 
look to my left and then to my right. I found the true purpose of life. The 
purpose is not to accept Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. Instead, we must 
accept God as God. We Muslims acknowledge the true nature of our Creator. By 
doing so, we accept our own purpose as slaves to our Creator.

I am on my way home after visiting my family for the first time after my 
reversion to Islam. People who knew nothing about Islam surrounded me. My 
fourteen-year-old sister Cathy asked, "Isn't Muhammad your God?" "Uh, no," I 
replied. My parents, my brother, and my five sisters all live in Pampa, 
Texas. My dad and I joked about each other's religion. "Why are you praying 
to that carpet?" he asked.

"Why do you have statues of dead people on your wall?" I asked, pointing to 
the large Jesus cross in the living room. On my first day home, I went to 
Cathy's room to pray after seeing a cross and religious images on my 
parent's wall. No crosses or Jesus pictures in her room. However, there was 
a huge Backstreet Boy's poster. I figured it was a lesser of two evils. My 
parent's have statutes or pictures of Jesus and Mary on almost every wall in 
their house. I have a great relationship with my family. Mexican-American 
households are well known for their love of family and religion.

During my visit to Pampa, I spent much of my time discussing Islam. People 
who ask you why you chose "that religion" are asking for Dawah. I gladly 
provided answers. My dad said, "My mom was Catholic, and I'll be a Catholic 
when I die." Mexican-Americans seem to think that their ancestors have 
always been Roman Catholic. Our ancestors from Spain were Muslim. Our 
ancestors from Mexico were pagan. Clinging on to a religion simply because 
of tradition is insane. I refuse to be a blind follower. I am Muslim because 
Islam is true. While visiting my family, I spoke frequently about Islam. If 
you love something, you discuss it any chance you get. I hope I did not 
annoy my family. I gave my brother a copy of the Qur'an and a small 
introductory book about Islam. I bookmarked www.LatinoDawah.org and 
www.HispanicMuslims.com on my family's computers. I copied several Islamic 
related files to their computers hoping they would accidentally run across 
them. I asked questions that only the true religion of God can answer. God 
is three? Jesus is God? Original sin? We find the answers to such questions 
by studying the fundamentals of Islam: the Oneness of God, Prophethood, and 
the Day of Judgment.

I spent much time trying to clear up misconceptions about Islam. Why aren't 
Americans better informed about Islam? Americans have many questions about 
Islam. Many times, it is good to bring those questions out in the open. I 
wanted my sister to understand that Islam is not oppressive to women. I 
wanted to explain why Muslim women cover. Eventually, I would ask her, "Do 
you know why women wear scarves?" She simply replied, "Nuh uh." I feared her 
reply would be, "What? You think I dress like a slut or something?" I 
explained that Muslims believe that women should not be treated as sexual 
objects. I also explained that Islam is like risk management. Men and women 
are both instructed to lower their gaze.

On my way to Pampa, the airport security was very tight. A security guard 
checked my bags. He saw my Qur'an, my Islamic literature, my Islamic 
audiotapes, and my prayer rug. I hope I did not scare the security guard. I 
considered praying at the Austin airport before stepping onboard the plane 
but I did not want to give any passengers a heart attack. I skipped fajr 
prayer for America. George Bush, Jr would be proud. After telling my brother 
about this, he suggested that I return home with a flight instructor's 
manual. Soon after the attacks, my dad asked my mom, "What'd he get himself 
into?" They had not heard from me in a while so they were a little 
concerned. People act as if some Arab in Saudi Arabia has a long list of 
Muslims and can call anyone on the list when he wants to blow up a building.

On my return to Austin, not only were my bags checked but my shoes as well. 
Most Americans are happy to see increased security. The camouflaged military 
guys who carry machine guns seem rather unnecessary. The airlines will do 
whatever it takes to make Americans feel safe and secure. Before takeoff, 
airline attendants reminded us that our seats could be used as a floatation 
device although we knew chances of hitting a body of water were slim. 
Suppose we had to jump ship. A witness would point to the sky saying, "Oh my 
God look at all those weirdoes up there holding on to their seats!"

My mom cried after hugging me goodbye. I tried to hold back my tears. I hope 
that she cried because she would miss me and not because she feared I would 
join the Taliban. As I look outside my window, I see glimpses of the Texas 
Panhandle. I see canyons then farms and deserted roads then canyons again. I 
am reminded of Father Dale. During a Sunday sermon, he admitted, "While I 
was a priest in Hawaii, I would see a beautiful beach and palm trees on my 
way to work. Now, I see miles and miles of cotton on my way to work!" Father 
Dale has since left the priesthood and has gotten married. Maybe he will 
embrace Islam next. You never know. Looking outside my window, I must thank 
Allah for the canyons, the cotton, and the other gifts He has given us.

Juan Galvan is the President LADO-TX. You can learn about LADO at
www.LatinoDawah.org