I used to be afraid of Muslims. The fear started after 9/11 most likely, I can’t pin point it. But I can pin point the day the fear began to subside.

I worked part time at Camden County College, and my boss Rosie was a Christian, I was a Pagan, and this other woman who worked with us wore the Muslim head scarf and was friendly enough, but in my mind she was one of those people, nothing like Rosie and me. She had a big smile every day and after a few weeks working together, she would ask us questions about our belief systems that we would answer.

One day, just the three of us were in the office, and my Muslim co-worker said she had something she wanted to share with us. She took her scarf off and revealed long, gorgeous past her waist curly black hair. She said she could show it to us because we were both good women of our faiths, and that made us good women in her faith. She went on to explain to us how sacred and sensual hair is viewed in her belief system, and that’s why they kept their hair private. Her hair was just beautiful, and I reached out and touched it, and she reached out and touched mine, and we locked eyes and both giggled.

She became my co-worker and friend that day, and was no longer just the Muslim woman who worked in my office. We were both engaged and planning weddings and had all kinds of thoughts and dreams about marriage. She had traveled the world and brought photos in to show me of the places she’d been. We had a lot more in common than we had differences, and I’ve thought about her often over the years. We lost touch after we stopped working together, and I wish I could remember her first name, but she touched my life in a healing way. She taught me not to be afraid of people who were different than me, and she taught me being a Muslim does not equate to being a terrorist.

I just wanted to share. Thank you for reading.