By:Noor Elfeky

September 3, 2017  

The First BellI can still hear the sound of that first bell echoing through the hallway. I was sixteen, standing by my locker, clutching my new planner like it was a shield.Everyone around me was laughing, loud and comfortable. My scarf felt heavier than usual that morning, not because of the fabric, but because of the way eyes lingered a second too long. I remember pretending not to notice.

October 12, 2017

Everyone was going to the game. The stands, the music, the glow of the field lights—it all seemed so simple on social media. I told my mom I was tired and stayed home. But truthfully, I just didn’t want to explain why I couldn’t join the others at the party afterward. I watched their stories instead, the red solo cups, the laughter, the way belonging looked like something you could pour into yourself. I guess this is what researchers call acculturative stress—the feeling of needing to honor my faith while still being part of their world. (Balkaya et al., 2019)

November 21, 2017

The Prayer Room 

I found the empty art room at lunch again. The window faced east, and when I spread my jacket over the floor, the tiles were cool beneath my knees.Between classes and noise, that room felt like another world. In sujood, I whispered all the things I couldn’t say out loud my fears, my hope that Allah understood the ache of wanting to fit in without losing Him

December 10, 2017 — 

“You don’t eat pepperoni?” someone asked again, loud enough for the table to pause. I smiled politely, explaining halal for what felt like the hundredth time. “Ohhh, religious,” she said, stretching the word like it was foreign. I laughed it off, but inside, I wondered why being different always felt like an apology. Studies show that kids like me often feel isolated or judged, and that can make self-confidence waver. Maybe that’s why I keep explaining myself over and over, hoping for understanding. (Herzig, 2014)

January 2, 2018 

New Year Reflections

I wrote resolutions on a sticky note: Pray more. Study harder. Be kinder to myself. I realized that faith wasn’t about choosing between worlds, it was about living truthfully in both. Still, I didn’t always know how. Some nights I felt like two versions of myself, Layla the Muslim, and Layla the American each waiting for the other to breathe.

March 6, 2018  

The Field Trip 

 The bus ride to the city buzzed with energy. I sat next to Maya, who offered me her sandwich. “Thanks,” I smiled, “but I brought mine.” When she asked why, I told her about halal again. This time, she didn’t laugh. She said, “That’s actually cool. My cousin’s Jewish, same kind of thing, right?” For once, I didn’t feel like an outsider, just part of a bigger story. I guess Kabir was right integrative identity isn’t about choosing one world over the other. It’s about finding strength in both. (Kabir, 2012)

April 23, 2018

Ramadan

The first night of Ramadan came quietly. The house smelled like lentil soup and my mom’s samosas. I missed hanging out with friends, but there was something peaceful in the rhythm, fasting, prayer, breaking bread with family. My dad said, “The hardest part is remembering why we do it.” And for the first time, I felt proud that my struggle had meaning.

June 10, 2018 

The Zoom Call

Senior year ended on a screen. Everyone joked in the chat, but I kept staring at my reflection  hijab slightly crooked, eyes tired. I thought about how much had changed. The girl who used to shrink at whispers now met her own gaze. Maybe I wasn’t between two worlds anymore. Maybe I was building my own.