Carolina

For the Sake Of...   By    Syed Progress and tradition - two antonyms as far as I am concerned. Salem Puritans had once burned innocent women with accusations of witchcraft. Texas traditionalists had once barred the minds of youth with the ban against evolution. Did not Copernicus call for revolutionary astronomical physics against traditional Aristotelean physics? Did not Susan B. Anthony plead for recognition of women’s rights from the unresponsive nation? Five years ago, my family began preparation for the greatest celebration since my birth. My //ameen.// I had finished the Qur’an. Quite a feat, I had read aloud another language with the proper accent, the proper sounds, and the proper speed all thirty parts, all one hundred fourteen chapters, all six thousand six hundred sixty-six verses. Relatives from all over the world received word. For those who could not personally congratulate me, I received an hour long over-the-phone call and a promise for something good to be mailed right over. Such pride. I could only ponder the source. Why was this such an accomplishment? Any child could learn to read a book. Why must I have a celebration. When I asked, my parents agreed that it was traditional to have a celebration. I thought to myself, the tradition gave it importance. I did not wish to upset, so I tentatively went along. The promises came quickly as I was bombarded with presents: clothes, prayer clocks and religious books. One particular set of “traditional” clothes looked especially outlandish: a night-black //kurta// with a stunning, pure-white embroidery. I set it aside; my mother picked it up, titled it “perfect” for my //ameen//, and went off to call and thank the aunt who sent it. I sat in silence. The silence, however, did no justice to the question in my head. Why am I subject to tradition? The magnificently decorated hall gleamed at the night of my //ameen//. Families broke into friends, and each took their table. Just before my speech, my grandmother slowly climbed to the front of the stage. Immediately, the audience fell silent. Unaware of her speech, I sat up curiously, for I was not expecting her to speak. She did not say much, but she said enough for a revelation. “Tonight, we gather for the night of celebration for Owais’s //ameen//. May he set an example for our future generations. In this new place, these children face conflicting senses of identity and belonging. But, these traditions will guide them, as does the //Qur’an// and our ways of life. In the end, we will be proud, because our traditions will be seen in their choices.” That is all it took. I understood. We use our traditions as part as our identity and hold onto them for guidance. They are not important for tradition’s sake, rather, they reveal a frame for us to follow, and then grow from as do laws from tradition grow to govern a nation or as a custom grows to become a lifestyle. The balance I set, defines who I will become.