For the first time in more than 30 years, Eid-al-Fitr,
today’s celebration that signals the end of Ramadan, falls on
the same week of Thanksgiving.
At first, I see an obvious disconnect between the Islamic holy
month of Ramadan and the American tradition of Thanksgiving ““
30 days of fasting compared to the much-loved American tradition of
stuffing oneself into immobility by feasting on turkey, apple pie
and other goodies.
A better-known association is the one presented by many media
outlets ““ between Ramadan and an increase in terrorist
attacks abroad. It is a connection that has been noted by the U.S.
Department of Homeland Security, the FBI and the U.S.
administration in Iraq.
As a Muslim and an American, I see a more subtle association,
one that is more localized and familiar. Though Ramadan is a
religious holiday and Thanksgiving a national one, I have happily
celebrated both. Over the years, I’ve noticed that both have
similar and specific cultural functions that may not be identical,
but are definitely similar: to bring people together so they can
set aside their differences and express thankfulness for what
they’ve been given.
My family knew when to begin observing Ramadan based on a
particular phase on the lunar calendar. My parents always took my
brothers and me outside at twilight to search the skies for the new
moon which would signal the first day of fasting. For the whole
lunar month ““ either 29 or 30 days ““ we were supposed
to fast from sunrise to sunset.
A few hours before sunset, my mother would begin to prepare the
food we would eat at “iftar,” or the breaking of the
fast. I would hover around her, smelling the food when I was
fasting, mischievously sampling it when I wasn’t. Every
weekend, my family would have iftar parties, where they invited
friends and family to break the fast together. The iftar parties
not only helped create bonds between my family and other Muslim
families, it also gave us a chance to explain the practice to
non-Muslims who were curious about the customs of the holy
month.
Our explanations were oddly reflective of a situation years
earlier, when my parents first immigrated to the United States.
Their new friends and neighbors introduced them to the grand
tradition of sharing, tolerance and gathering that accompanies
Thanksgiving.
In the same way, we would celebrate Eid-al-Fitr by gathering
with other Muslims to pray, donate to charity, talk, eat and give
gifts or money. There were only a few of us because I grew up in a
little town in the Mojave Desert, but it was still my favorite time
of year. We would celebrate the day as a culmination of all the
fasting we had completed and the lessons we had learned.
When I was in elementary school, Ramadan fell during the
summertime. The fasts were much longer because the sun rose early
and set late. As one can imagine, there was a significant amount of
mental griping that went on when my parents suggested I fast. The
funny thing is, that same griping occurred on Thanksgiving, when my
mother told me to keep my hands off the feast she was preparing. My
favorite battleground was the oven-fresh apple pie that she
defended from the family’s impatient fingers.
I always looked forward to Ramadan because of the iftar parties,
the special food my mother made, and the excitement of Eid-al-Fitr.
I looked forward to Thanksgiving for the dinner party, the special
food my mother made, and the blissful feeling I got after eating as
much as possible and settling on the couch for the traditional
Thanksgiving movie.
During Ramadan in later years, I also learned to appreciate the
individual efforts each family member made to be more giving,
tolerant and peaceful toward strangers as well as family. On both
holidays, my parents constantly remind me to show my thankfulness
and charity.
My parents have led by example. During Thanksgiving, my mother
always has my father take extra food to homeless people they know
around our small town or to people who they know couldn’t
afford a full turkey dinner. During Ramadan, they have given
generously to organizations such as the local women’s shelter
and homeless charities or children’s funds.
Similarly, people in my hometown, like people across the United
States, hold food drives in the weeks before Thanksgiving so that
more people can have full Thanksgiving dinners. Together, Ramadan
and Thanksgiving have encouraged me to appreciate the source of my
food and show charity to others. My brothers and I were taught to
help people less fortunate than us, show tolerance and patience,
spend time in spiritual introspection and, above all, to improve
the world around us through acts of charity.
Ramadan has never been about personal glory or vengeance. Thus
it pains me to see an event that is intended to promote quiet
contemplation, charity and spirituality become associated with
terror due to the vicious and un-Islamic behavior of
extremists.
During the first Thanksgiving, a new relationship was formed
between two very different groups of people. However briefly, they
sat together and shared their cultures. Today, during this rare
time when we have a juxtaposition of two important events, if you
take a moment to give thanks, to appreciate what you have ““
in that moment you will completely understand not just
Thanksgiving, but Ramadan as well.