To my utter horror, after the lecture, the Imam asked “Is the young lady here to do the conversion?” Neda was more than happy to pipe up and point to me: “Yeah, she’s right over here.”

Fifty pair of eyes turned to me. I found myself desperately wishing I was invisible while plotting Neda’s death.

The Imam asked me to come to the front of the room. Before I got up, I whispered to Neda that I was going to kill her. She only giggled profusely as I marched to the front of the room. I felt myself turning red as I felt eyes on the back of my head. Everyone was watching! Eek! What if I messed up? The thought taunted me as the Imam asked my name. I laughed awkwardly and said, “I haven’t done this before.” It was true, I hadn’t. Everyone in the room laughed and I felt better since laughter always lightens up a serious situation. The Imam laughed too, which was a relief since he got the joke – “Yes, if you had, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

He asked me a series of questions, such as if I knew anyone in the room. I said yes, I knew Nader and Neda and Amina and Farhat. For some reason, everyone laughed when I mentioned Nader’s name. I didn’t understand why at first but Neda later explained to me that everyone knows Nader, who seems to be very helpful with new conversions. What a coincidence, he helped in mine!

The Imam asked me why I chose to convert to Islam. With 50 people staring at me, my mind went blank. Internally I tried to jump-start my brain: Hello brain, could you start working now? I need to give an answer! I found myself uttering whatever came to mind, such as my family roots, friends, experiences, etc.
I then repeated after the Imam. The first part was in English, which I fully understood. The next part I was a bit more scared about: The Arabic. My initial perception was that he was going to say each word and I would repeat. Instead, he had me repeat each unique and particular sound. I had no idea where the words began or ended but did enjoy repeating the various sounds after the Imam. That was it. Those five minutes was my Shahada!

I turned and watched as fifty people chorused a phrase in Arabic. I knew this was a good sign. After that, I was bombarded with many hands to shake with, sisters to hug, numbers to exchange. I was the center of attention as all the brothers and sisters welcomed me into the community. This welcome was the most warmth I had felt in years.

I am grateful that Neda pushed for me to convert in front of so many sisters and brothers. Not only has this experience been unique for me, but I later came to learn that my declaration of faith to Islam rejuvenated many of the sisters’ and brothers’ faith, as well, because they witnessed a new member to the Muslim community!

That night was a very memorable night for me. I was very pleased and excited to be welcomed into such an open and warm community – one that would help shape me to become a better person in the months to come…

The first of them is a graduate student with whom I am very close. She studies Islam at the academic level despite being Muslim herself. Conversations with her really opened my eyes to what Islam preaches and the meanings behind the practices.

The second influential person is Nader Nasr. He lives in the same dorm building as me and would often tell me that since I always smile and say hello to everyone that I would be a very good Muslim. My initial reaction to this was that this was a sign from God that I should better commit myself to Islam, the religion I am most familiar and comfortable with.

The third person that influenced me is none other than Neda Momeni. If there is one person I can relate to, it’s this witty and clever girl – coming from a unique Iranian background and majoring in Anthropology, as well. She taught me that Islam is not about all of a sudden waking up and being the best Muslim you can be, but instead working towards being a good and devout person. I always thought that it would be rude to convert to Islam when I knew that I could not easily give up bacon or happy hour. I  told her the day when I’m done bar hoping with friends and eating pork chops is the day I will convert to Islam. In reply, she slapped me upside the head and told me that that isn’t what Islam is about. How very right she was.

After that, I became determined to convert, to become a better and more devout person.

Thus, in October of 2009 I converted to Islam. An Imam who was doing a lecture at UCLA in the Haines building performed the Shahada with me.

Before my conversion, I was scared! I didn’t know how to do it or what to do! I found myself googling Shahada and found several sites that seemed to have the pronunciation on there. I thought I would try to memorize it, in case it was customary for me to know it prior to coming in. Neda told me to not worry and simply show up but I couldn’t help myself – I was worried . I grabbed a Hijab from my closet – one I borrowed from my mother in my pursuit to become more acquainted with Islam – and began my walk towards Haines building. The walk was the longest walk ever and I found myself calling every single person in my cell phone address book to tell them that I was on my way to convert to Islam. Out of the twenty five people I called, only three people answered. Which, if you do the math, meant I had left 23 voicemails.

Nervous much? You could say that.

This statement has profound implications because it implies that, for a period of time before my conversion, a curiosity regarding Islam brewed within me that eventually led to my conversion.

I was born on August, 1987 to an Iranian woman whom I refer to as Mother. She was born and raised in Tehran, the capital of Iran, where she was socialized into Islam by her family and her community. By circumstances of fate, or by some bizarre coincidence, she came to America and fell in love with an American hippie – my father. In my twenty three years of existence, I have yet to hear him talk about God. Mother, on the other hand, would frequently say that “God is watching you” to remind me not to misbehave. Aside from comments such as those, my knowledge of God or religion was next to none. Thus, as you can imagine, my upbringing was a very unique and interesting one.

The only memories I have from my childhood that pertain to Islam involved witnessing my mother’s mother – my grandmother – pray. She, herself, was a devout Muslim and would pray the five prayers of the day. I would, in my curiosity, barge in to see what she was doing and find myself confused as to why she was bowing her head to the ground continually. She would tell me, later, that she was praying. These moments were my first encounters with Islam. There were a few instances where she would allow me to pray with her. I had no idea what I was doing and just followed her actions. Unfortunately, for a seven year old who had been brought up with very little knowledge of God, these events had very little  meaning then. However, much later, these events would have a profound effect on me.

Fast forward to 9/11 – I was fourteen years old when the majority of Americans began to scrutinize the Muslim community for the events of the 9/11 attacks. My classmates at my high school were ignorant and would often make ignorant comments about Muslims, to the point where I would stand up and defend the community. I had such a strong conviction that Muslims are not to blame for this.  I suppose it was while standing up for Islam that I began to open my eyes to it. It was within these years that I came to realize that I identified more with Islam than I did with Christianity and Judaism. After all, I periodically saw Mother reading the Qur’an and she would tell me brief stories of what she was reading. My mother’s side of the family were Muslims and I certainly knew more about Islam than I did about Christianity and Judaism. And so a realization started to form within me that, perhaps, I was Muslim after all.

Prior to entering UCLA, I still had not gone to a Mosque, nor had I spoken to anyone about Islam, except for my relatives. My relatives told me that I was Muslim because after all, I am my mother’s daughter. I always shrugged at the statement and as the years progressed, I realized I didn’t know one single thing about Islam except the five pillars. But all that would soon change when I would enter UCLA….