Young Muslim immigrants find life in Modesto largely welcoming

Moving to a different country is never easy. Consider the negative stimuli that have pushed you out of your home, the relationships you have to leave behind and the culture shock of a new country you find has xenophobic threads.

But for 20-year-old Mustafa Albayaty, who emigrated from Iraq six years ago with his family, the inability to speak English was perhaps one of the hardest barriers he had to overcome. “I didn’t speak any English, to be honest, when I came here. All I knew was ‘yes’ and ‘no,’ ” he said.

“Some put me down, as, ‘Oh, you’re not even going to learn English. You’re not even going to go to college,’ ” Albayaty recalled. “That actually motivated me to do better and work my hardest to go to a four-year university.”

Three years later, Albayaty graduated with the help of the Language Institute at Davis High School with a 4.0 GPA and is now a junior at California State University, Stanislaus. “Thank God I did it,” he added.

Because he is a Muslim, Albayaty said that, occasionally, his classmates would “playfully” call him a terrorist. “They think they’re saying it as a joke, but not all people take it as a joke. It hurts,” he said.

Albayaty’s story of American adaptation is by no means uncommon. A study in 2012 done by the Pew Research Center estimated that 10 percent of all immigrants into the United States are Muslim.

Another Muslim immigrant living in Modesto, Nazir Danish, also found English to be the biggest challenge for him. He pointed out that not speaking English well is an indicator of foreignness and thus leaves one open to judgment.

“When I got to the United States,” said Danish, who emigrated from Afghanistan two years ago and is an incoming senior at Davis High, “I was afraid because when (English is) your second language, people ask you, ‘What did you say? Say it again, please.’ That sucks.”

In addition to the difficulty in adopting the language, female Muslims draw attention because of their hijabs. The head coverings, which are worn for religious reasons, leave many women and girls openly subject to anti-immigrant or anti-Muslim criticism.

Alaa Jawabra, a senior at Davis High and Muslim immigrant, could recall one encounter in which her headscarf drew negative attention. “One time when I went to the mall with my mom, there is a woman close to us (who) said some bad words and she talked about us and about our religion and my hijab with bad words,” Jawabra said. “Then I went to her and said, ‘Thank you, thank you so much.’ And then she went out of the mall.”

An immigrant who fled the civil war in Syria with her family one year ago, Jawabra otherwise has found life in America to be much more liberating and “comfortable” than life in Syria had been. “America is a huge country with different languages, nationalities and religions, and the most important thing that we know about America (is) it is a country of freedom,” she said.

Despite the mall incident for Jawabra, terrorist “jokes” and initial annoyance at the inability to speak English, all three individuals said they haven’t felt oppressed for being Muslim immigrants in America.

It is a fairly surprising revelation, considering the recent backlash against people associated with Islam. After attacks by self-proclaimed Muslims in Fort Hood, Texas; San Bernardino; and Orlando, Fla., as well as the proliferation of the international terrorist group Islamic State, many Americans have instilled in their minds that “Muslim” is synonymous with “terrorist.”

Jawabra, Albayaty and Danish all regarded this discrimination with similar statements: Most Americans are not like that, just as most Muslims are not violent. Thus, they have found their transition into Modesto to be smooth and welcoming.

Integral in their transition from the Middle East to America has been the aid of the Language Institute at Davis High, where hundreds of immigrants similar to them have received unconditional support in learning English, scheduling classes and adapting to America academically and culturally. A notable thread in their stories was their avid appreciation for understanding and patient teachers such as Lindsey Bird, director of the Language Institute.

Though he initially struggled with the language, Albayaty was quickly able to pick up English through the Language Institute. Six years ago during his sophomore year, Albayaty, with the help of Bird, decided he was ready to take a college-level English class. “I actually ended up with an A in the class,” he recalled with a smile. “That’s when I started getting more involved in school and making friends.”

“Mrs. Bird helped everybody. She helped me a lot,” Danish said. Like Albayaty, Danish received aid in learning the English language, though for other subjects such as calculus, he was able to succeed by himself. “It’s a really good system. They really work with the students to help them talk (in English).”

Despite any obstacles these immigrants have encountered, or how diverse their backgrounds are, their priorities are all the same, they said: to receive a good education.

“I came from Afghanistan for a higher education and a better life,” Danish said. After high school, Danish plans to attend Stanislaus State and become a “good dentist.”

Bird said of Danish, “I honestly don’t know if I’ve ever met a more motivated student. I am thoroughly convinced he is going to be world-famous, making the world a better place.” She added that all of Danish’s family shares his drive and utmost appreciation for all the opportunities America has brought them. “He just came believing in himself and ready to seize the moment and I’m sure he will. He really is an amazing kid.”

A graduate of the Language Institute, Albayaty was inspired by his love for math and by his parents, both engineers, to receive a degree from Stanislaus State in math. In addition becoming a math teacher, Albayaty hopes to dispel stereotypes of immigrants or Muslims. “All I can do is make our names look better by getting educated (and) doing something good for this country so people don’t think that we’re all the same. Because not all people are the same.”

“To me,” Bird recalled of Albayaty, “he’s a poster example that if you give English learners the tools they need, then the sky’s the limit.”

Jawabra, too, wants to enroll in Stanislaus State after graduation and then become a pharmacist. For now, she said, she is excited for senior year and is very dedicated to her studies, spending her afternoons doing homework, though she also likes to cook and hang out with her family.

“What I love about Alaa is that she’s so true to her her culture and her family, yet simultaneously is loving all of the opportunities and freedoms that American culture can provide a refugee student,” Bird said. “It’s been really cool to see her stay laser-focused on who she is as a person and not compromise that, but at the same time, become a better version of herself because she’s in the United States.”

Despite her reserved, calm demeanor, Jawabra has a lot to say. Most of all, she wants to help erase prejudices Americans might have of Muslims. “I want to be a role model, not just for other students, but for how everyone should view Muslims. Not just what you see on the news.”

This story was originally published August 4, 2016 at 4:39 PM with the headline "Young Muslim immigrants find life in Modesto largely welcoming."