If you had told me in September 2001, when I was a new teacher in Washington, D.C. — the smoke from the 9/11 attacks on the Pentagon still visible from my classroom window — that one day a Muslim socialist would be elected mayor of New York City, I might have thought you cruel for raising my hopes.
I remember the tanks rolling down the street by my house, the flags unfurled from every porch demanding loyalty. The air was thick with fear and vengeance. Islamophobia became the nation’s unofficial religion. The Patriot Act deputized that hatred, giving the government license to spy on Muslims, to entrap them, to raid homes and mosques under the banner of national security. People were beaten in the streets for wearing a hijab, or for simply being perceived as Muslim — Sikh, Arab, South Asian, anyone who fit the script of American fear. In those years, to call oneself a socialist was to invite exile, and to speak of our shared humanity was to stand accused of disloyalty to the nation.
It was not an easy time to believe in human possibility. Being a young Black socialist who wanted to help build a world based on solidarity was widely understood as a dangerous betrayal. But now, take note: The city once believed to be the sole possession of Wall Street — a city steeped in Islamophobic backlash — has elected a Muslim socialist. History, with its sly grin, has once again mocked despair…