Being a Teen Named Yahya in America Yahya Yuksel At the age of seventeen, I had the privilege of attending the

2008 Celebration o f Heresy Conference and the great honor of hosting the first night where I met many distinguished professors, authors, and critical thinkers. And I've decided to briefly describe my life so far as a Muslim. Since my birth I have lived with a very unique name. The story is long and prophetic, and my name is its fruit. So there I was, with no power of negotiations, brought into the world named Yahya Yuksel, a name that would bring me much hardship and generate nuisance and embarrassment at times but would strengthen my character. It's not like I was paralyzed or had speech impediments, but a weird name like 'Yahya' is a little harder to live with than a "John" or "Aaron." My name, uncommon and difficult to pronounce, hints at and whispers of my religious or ethnic background to everyone I meet, including police officers, security guards, cashiers and of course, potential friends and employers. In elementary school I remember not having issues with being perceived as a Muslim. The kids didn't really understand or care much for religion. However, my name brought a few unfavourable nicknames and bullying. "Yo-yo" was the most common, and really wasn't all that bad except when the girl I had a crush on in 5th grade says "Hey Yo-yo can you pass the glue stick?" Naively thinking she liked me deep down, I told myself she was just trying to socialize. High school was the beach of Normandy in my life. The moment I delicately stepped off the boat, I was shot at with brutal and painful nicknames, from ever y direction, even by friendly fire. It was very difficult to heal and mend my persona, but I eventually did. Every time I talked to a friend, a stranger, and sometimes a teacher I had to listen to their version of my name, and 'cute' terrorist jokes. I became desensitized to people making fun of my name and assumed religion. Of course I wouldn't give in completely; I put up fights when I believed it was necessary. People are interesting; they make fun of you but clai m to be your friend. They say "I'm just joking Yak. Don't get so mad,"even though it was the thousandth time I heard the dumb joke! By senior year I realized that I had overcome the adversity. With every new encounter with my peers I emitted a more confident vibe when introducing myself. I was poised and direct; I looked everyone in the eye, not once giving them a chance to attack my name. I gained as much respect back as an outsider could. I was elected president of my class Junior and Senior year, was president of two other clubs on campus, and nominated for prom royalty; and yet, because of my non-American name, people still called me terrorist So I pondered. Coming up with a brilliant idea. It was gutsy and would most likely be embarrassing. I grew my beard for two months, nurturing it with much love and conditioner. Finally it was time! The day had come where my two months of alienation by the ladies at school, the long explanations of why I'm growing beard out, and the constant unrecognizable look I gave myself in the mirror, all were about to come to an end. I wore a legit Arab outfit to school t hat Friday, including the limited edition fitted turban.

Where could I find an authentic Arabian garb? My mom offered help. "Let me see if we have one." All of a sudden, returning from the garage, she whipped out this blanket looking dress and red bundle of cloth. It was the outfit. My parent s don't wear Arab dresses or turbans. I never saw it before in my life and wondered why we even had it. So here I was walking to school from the back parking lot, palms sweating, eyes wide open, and with a sudden and constant tingling down my spine. I entered the school's plaza, the students' congregation hot spot before school. It was dead quiet. Every little pupil was focused on my delicate and vulnerable brown skin. I thought to myself, "It was nice knowing you. Good luck to you." That day went well. I received an unusual amount of praise for showing courage and having "huevos", as my Latino homies declared to me later. Even though I was sent to the assistant principal's office, I wasn't in any trouble and showed to my peers that just because I was wearing a turban it did not imply "KABOOM!" What it did was prove I could crack a happy smile and could be a gentle human. Being called a sand-nigger got me thinking about racism and xenophobia in my country. Ironically, I was neither an Arab nor yet consciously chosen a religion . My parents were Kurdish and Persian and I have yet to decide about my religion. My father, who suffered from religious oppression by his family and countrymen, had already warned me not be a Muslim just because of my parents are Muslim. I consider that warning and I am still holding my judgment on this important issue. I do believe in one God, the First Cause, and an Intelligent Designer. Yet, I did match their color and did have a cool name. This labeling was occurring while the Neocon government we voted for had invaded and terrorized a country based on a series of lies and deceptions, and directly or indirectly caused the death of more than a million "sand-niggers," displaced and injured millions more, and subjected thousands of innocent people with weird names to humiliation and appalling tortures! At graduation I gave a speech and received the loudest applause when handed my diploma, I'm not sure how I'll be treated in college when I attend the University of Arizona in the fall. But I know I made the best of my blessed situation and gained the respect I deserved as an individual. My father reminded me a verse from the Quran God that instructs people not to not make fun of people's names. I understand why it's something you had no control over and was given to you with love and thought. You live with it wherever you go and it is who you are, mine has made me unique and strengthened my self-esteem. Racism is a virus that turns its victims into potential criminals. The wars, massacres, and genocides of the past that we all condemn were committed by self-righteous people who had opened their minds and hearts to the most deadly virus in human history. Though I am not sure about its divine origin, I would like to quote a verse from the Quran that emphasizes equality of humanity regardless their gender and color: 49:13 O people, We created you from a male and female, and We made you into nations and tribes, that you may know one another. Surely, the most honorable among you in the sight of God is the most righteous. God is Knowledgeable, Everaware.

(from the book 'Critical Thinkers for Islamic Reform', Page 15-17) Yahya Yuksel is a freshman at the University of Arizona, studying Journalism and Political science. He has been in leadership position since elementary school; at age 11 he was interviewed by the local CBS affiliate TV station for the eveni ng news for his survey and its analysis at his elementary school. In 2008, he re ceived the Senior Student of the Year award from City of Tucson for his various leadership activities including for founding Teen Court at Mountain View High Sc hool and receiving grant for its initial costs. He is on the board of several ed ucational and social committees and organizations and became the youngest member of the Human Relations Committee of the City of Tucson. In 2008, he received Ce rtificate of Congressional Recognition from US congresswoman Gabrielle Gifford f or his civic contribution. As the co-founder of TeenDemocrats or Democrateens or ganization, in 2004 Yahya campaigned for John Kerry, and then in 2008 for Barack Obama. Besides, English, Yahya knows Persian and little Turkish.

tui angul tulechish--ami kichu bolini, tui gali deachish--ami kichu bolini, tor aghate amar shorbango khoto-bikhoto--ami kichu bolini kintu........ tor nongra dristi jokhn amar boner ga chua geache--shon JANOAR,ami rajpoth choshe kheyechi, amar konthe chilo tibro chitkar r chokhe chilo ghrina. toke mere ami TUI hote chaini, shudhu janea dite cheyechi,"amader shomman tor baper kena jaygir na".