Reflection - If They Come For Us

Reflection - If They Come For Us

If They Come For Us by Fatimah Asghar is a book I haven’t been able to put down the minute I was struck by her vividness in imagery and being able to connect with her work on some levels. I cannot quite say I connected with her on many or most levels but I did find myself in awe with how much I was able to relate to.

Asghar does an amazing job giving tons of context to her readers that might not understand the irony of some words/statements. That is a very engaging tool necessary when bringing new material to an audience that might have never been exposed to that form of writing. Even someone like me, who grew up in a huge family shouting Arabic left to right, continues to struggle with the language that is supposed to be my own. Reading Fatimah Asghar truly encouraged me to be proud of what I know and embody what I do not.

Even as I try to reduce the number of poems I want to reflect on, I feel as if I am not doing my due diligence as a reader of her work by not reflecting on the entire book. In its entirety, it is a very difficult piece for me to begin to break down. I felt a rush of emotions laughter, tears, and joy. In the times she spoke of her mother, I felt heartfelt and sincere. Through her words and images, you could feel a young child longing for their mothers love, a mother's warmth. Asghar drops lines and entire paragraphs about her mother but I was excited to see the piece she solely dedicated to her father, “Portrait Of My Father, Alive.”

“he orders a slice with no sauce

No cheese no toppings just the bread?

Just the bread he says & leaves

Carrying his naan home.”

This line in particular brings innocence to her father as she brings him to life for us. He is a simple man, a genuine man, a straight-to-the-point kinda guy. Even something as small as ordering pizza but removing of its other flavors that make it whole, he still enjoyed something so delicate.

The most intimateness I felt was in seeing her emphasize the effects of September 11th and how it changed her outlook of how to represent herself to the world as it is. I saw myself in the line of being afraid to say the word “blow up.” I was constantly aware of my vocabulary and mindful of those around me. In my middle school my cousin, who needed me to translate, was expelled for lighting tissue on fire in the school bathroom. I remember one of the mentors sitting us both down and saying, “my brother was a firefighter in 9/11. He went in and never came back out yaknow.” It was one of those times that changed my perspective of my identity. Every time the words “9/11” “Muslim” “terrorist” came up in any setting, I felt the lights shine on me like it was my turn to talk about it, as if I owed an apology.

Fatimah Asghar is brown person like me and like many around me, Fatimah Asghar reminded me of how to look at myself even when I want to lie to myself.