A few years ago, I was preparing to teach a unit on Islam in my World History class.

Noman, the only Muslim person I knew (and a former student of mine), was in the classroom next door. I asked him whether he would be willing to come and speak to my class about his religion, so that my students could hear from a Muslim student their own age.

Noman spoke eloquently and passionately about what it felt like to be the only Muslim student at our school. He answered questions ranging from the tenets of his faith to whether his marriage would be arranged.

By the end of the period, he had earned the respect and admiration of the entire class.

The next day was Sept. 11, 2001.

As we watched the Twin Towers collapse on television and news commentators began suggesting it was the act of Muslim extremists, one student in the class made a derogatory statement about Muslims.

Another quickly jumped in: "Hey, man, you're talking about all Muslims like they're like that. Noman was here yesterday. Didn't you learn anything? We know now that all Muslims aren't extremists -- they're more likely to be like Noman."

Many other students joined in, in defense of Muslims and of Noman.

It was one of the most powerful moments I've ever had in the classroom.

Had Noman not visited the day before, I doubt my protestations that Islam is a peaceful religion would have had much impact on my students' attitudes.

I tell my students the story of Noman every year, but by last spring I knew it was time for me to learn more. In our current world climate, few things are needed more than an educated voice of reason.

So over the summer, I flew out to New Mexico and spent two weeks in Abiquiu with 20 other teachers from across the United States, studying Islam at the Dar al Islam Teacher's Institute.

I thought we'd all be history teachers, but we taught everything from English to theater to Portuguese. We were Catholic, Southern Baptist, Jewish, Unitarian and agnostic.

What we had in common was a desire to know more. So we sat and listened to some of the foremost authorities on Islam around the country.

Among others, we heard Dr. Sulayman Nyang, former ambassador from Ghana to Saudi Arabia who is now a professor at Howard University, and Hamza Yusuf Hanson, an American convert to Islam who spent so long studying Islam in West Africa he earned the title of sheikh.

Amid all the lectures and study groups, I learned to watch for the snakes that gathered on the mesa I had to climb onto in order to call home, and to keep an eye out for the scorpions that sauntered into the shower.

Like many of my fellow teachers, I've taken what I learned this summer and applied it in my classroom. I started my lesson on Islam this year asking my room full of 14-year-olds for the first word that came to mind when I said "Islam."

"Terrorist" was the reply.

By the end of second day of the lesson, nearly every student wrote an impassioned defense of French Muslim girls who have been denied the right under French law to wear a hijab (a traditional head covering) into their classrooms.

Two weeks of study hardly make me an expert. And while I cannot recreate the experience of talking about Islam as a Muslim, I can create an environment of intellectual inquiry and tolerance in my classroom.

If I can cause one fewer person to slide into stereotyping, the snakes and scorpions will have been worth it.

Laura Huffman teaches history and film at Robinson High School in Concord. To contact her, send e-mail to [email protected]. 

Source: The Charlotte Observer