DEARBORN - The September 11, 2001 attacks on the United States of America had a profound effect on major policies both foreign and national, as well as on the collective psyche of the general U.S. population. 

But many of those changes had a unique effect on Arab Americans and American Muslims, especially in metro Detroit where the largest concentration of Arab Americans outside the Middle East resides. 

The Arab American News talked to some Arab Americans on life after the attacks.

The family of Zeinab Mansour, 19, moved to Dearborn from Center Line in order to feel more welcomed.

“I remember (9/11) well. I was in a classroom and it was a fifth grade class. I got pulled out of school, my parents picked us up and that was when everything started, it was just hectic, very stressful,” said Zeinab Mansour, 19, a Lebanese American who currently attends the University of Michigan-Dearborn and Henry Ford Community College for pre-med. 

Mansour attended Peck Elementary School in Center Line at the time but her family later moved to Dearborn when she was 15 because they felt more comfortable in a community with more Arab and Muslim residents who understood who they really were and what they were going through. 

“After 9/11, I actually became more embarrassed to call myself Muslim or Arab,” she said. “My family told us not to speak of 9/11 or to even say something like ‘We didn’t have anything to do with it’ to others…my mother was afraid of us talking aboutit  in case we’d say something wrong.” 

Mansour tried to ignore the ubiquitous media reports and negative portrayals of her culture and religion but found herself unable to avoid them at times. 

“I remember watching cartoons on a local channel and they would keep cutting it off and replaying scenes of the twin towers being bombed and my father just told us not to watch TV anymore,” she said.

Following the October 2001 PATRIOT Act and news of Arabs and Muslims being interrogated or detained for questioning, many times without sufficient evidence, the Mansour family became scared. 

“Everyone was worried that our phones were being tapped for no reason…we’d be like, ‘Watch out, don’t say anything odd on the phone or it may be taken in a wrong way,'” she said.  

Each day, the fear of another attack by extremists leading to more negative consequences haunted her. 

“I would have nightmares and fears of something else happening that would make our lives even worse and even harder, especially for children to live and I just kept telling myself that one day everyone will know the truth and come to their senses because we have so many books and websites that show what Islam really is, and that’s peace…we don’t consider the extremists Muslims, they’re non-believers to us.” 

Mansour, who began wearing a headscarf after she moved to Dearborn, said she faced thorough searches in airports beyond what other passengers were given. She said she now feels much more comfortable in Dearborn, but remains wary of unwelcome stares when she leaves the area, which are often interspersed with welcoming smiles. 

Mansour remembers the discrimination she faced from classmates at her old school but said she forgives them because of their youth and lack of education on the subject. Despite that, she wonders how different things could have been without the 9/11 attacks. 

“Definitely my childhood would have been much different, I probably would have been in the area I grew up in and not felt like an outcast,” she said. 

She believes that Dearborn can be used as an example to other communities, however.

“Here I’m seeing a little bit more positivity than other areas, we have mosques and churches reaching out and having interfaith events so people see things differently…I feel that many people are still ignorant about what Islam really is and what it teaches. People don’t discriminate against each other here, we feel like one community, but the second I leave Dearborn Heights I feel different, I don’t feel like everyone else, you know?”

 

Shahad Atiyah, 23, of Bloomfield Hills, recalls the moments when she had heard about the events of 9/11. 

Shahad Atiya, 23, immigrated with her family from Iraq. She became a political enthusiast and graduated with a Bachlor’s in Political Science.

“My 8th grade teacher had asked us if we knew what the World Trade Center was and I felt uninformed because I didn’t know,” said Atiya. 

Along with her family, Atiya immigrated from Iraq in 2000 to start a new life in a country which she thought was untouchable and free of war. However, upon hearing of the news on 9/11, plenty of mixed emotions were going through the mind of the then-13-year- old. 

“I was very scared. Of course these things happen in Iraq, but it wasn’t supposed to happen in the U.S,” she added. “I felt a sense of insecurity.” 

Being extra curious about the unfolding events, Atiya took it upon herself to begin researching about war, foreign policy, and what it meant to her as an individual living in the U.S.  

“The events after 9/11 were directly responsible for making me a political junkie.” Atiya added.  

Attending Lahser High School in Bloomfield Hills, she fit in very well with her classmates. During her time there, the war in Iraq had begun gaining ground and Atiya had found herself at the center of attention. 

“I became the Iraq War expert,” said Atiya about being the sole Iraqi student at her school. “I found myself offering my classmates different avenues in trying to understand the war and not listening to the news. A lot of them were misinformed.” 

When the Iraq invasion had broken out in March 2003, Atiya educated herself on war policies and notes that while she felt plenty of people in the U.S government were against the war, it was the Bush administration that had completely taken advantage of the general public by implementing fear tactics in order to convey their message. 

“The Bush administration’s stance changed multiple times,” Atiya stated. “Are there weapons of mass destruction? Is Saddam linked to 9/11? It was like an essay with no thesis statement, just points.” 

Despite her efforts to stay well informed about politics in the U.S. during the Bush administration, the invasion of Iraq had really hit close to home for Atiya. 

“That was probably one of the worst times of my life,” Atiya recalls. “I’m very patriotic to the U.S…this country was offering me a better life. But at the same time, I was scared for my family in Iraq,” she added. “I was being pulled in two different directions.” 

After graduating high school, Atiya attended the University of Michigan-Dearborn, where she graduated with a Bachelors Degree in Political Science in 2010.  

“I’d rather be informed and educated about our society than be oblivious,” stated Atiya about her strong commitment to politics.

Like many high schoolers at the time, 27-year-old Mohammed Qazzaz, who was 17 then, vividly remembers the scenes of confused classmates, teachers, and administrators on the morning of the September 11 attacks in 2001 and he also remembers the fear and uncertainty in the years to come.

But he also has lasting memories of the day he had to give up his career dream of becoming an airplane mechanic. 

Mohammed Qazzaz, 27, was forced to give up his dream of being an aeronautical engineer after 9/11.

“I was planning to go into aeronautical engineering, I wanted to work on planes. I loved everything about them but my father made me change my mind after 9/11 because he was scared I would not be able to find a job after I graduated,” Qazzaz said. 

Qazzaz, a Palestinian American Muslim, said that he knew several Arab Americans who were laid off from their jobs in the air travel industry following the attacks, with many of them going overseas to find work. 

Following 9/11 he and his classmates expressed disbelief at the attacks and the misrepresentations the media and especially staunch conservatives such as Rush Limbaugh made about Islam and its peaceful teachings. 

He found himself watching Fox News for the first time just to see what was being said. 

“They were saying all these things and what struck me is they always said it was Muslims in general (who were responsible), they never let a person talk to explain their religion and how it’s peaceful, they would bring people on and then wouldn’t even let them talk, wouldn’t let them say one thing.” 

The culture of suspicion and discrimination that resulted manifested itself personally in airports and at the U.S.-Canada border in Detroit and Windsor for Qazzaz. 

In 2004, Qazzaz and some friends were headed to Windsor across the border to try a new restaurant when they were detained for about an hour.

“They searched my car and found nothing but books in the back, but a lady came in and said my car was ‘unsearchable,’ and we needed to go back…I told her we were going to eat and she said ‘No sir, you’re a suspect, you need to go back,’ I was like ‘What? That doesn’t make any sense.'” 

The group was forced to drive back to Detroit, where they faced lengthy questioning again. 

In 2005 he and his brother were also detained and questioned thoroughly about their motives at an airport in Dallas and grilled about their trips to various places in the Middle East including Lebanon and Kuwait. 

Qazzaz said there is hope going forward because more people are learning about the true nature of Arabs and Islam and making distinctions between extremism. But he acknowledges the difficulties the decade brought. 

“I just wish this never happened, of course things would have been much better…so many lives would have been saved…the economy has taken a major hit because of another war in Iraq, which they lied to the whole world about..and I definitely wish it didn’t happen because I would be in airplane engineering which is what I’ve always wanted to do.”