A special International Peace Day virtual conversation with Rais & Jessica Bhuiyan of World Without Hate, moderated by Reem Ghunaim or the Rotary Action Group for Peace.
Mon, September 21, 2020, 4:00 PM – 5:30 PM PDT
About the Webinar:
A Bengali Air Force Officer. An American Theatre student. A Muslim. A spiritual seeker. September 11th survivors. An act of brutal hate. Shared servant leadership. Two paths merge. A love story blossoms.
Join us for this very special International Day of Peace program, an intimate conversation hosted by Reem Ghunaim, Executive Director of Rotary Action Group for Peace with Rais Bhuiyan, Founder & President, and Jessica Bhuiyan, Executive Director of World Without Hate as they share their personal stories, the moment their lives intersected, and the life they share working to realize a world without violence, a world without victims, and a world without hate.
Click here to register.
On this day, nineteen years ago, I began what would be my last day of work as a store clerk in South East Dallas. Rescuers at Ground Zero continued searching for survivors. The country was in deep mourning, as newfound fears and uncertainty loomed. But, what had not yet been widely known, was that people like me, quickly began paying the ultimate price for the September 11th terrorist attacks.
Around noon that day, a man wearing a bandana, baseball cap, and sunglasses, carrying a double barrel shot gun walked in. Pointing the gun directly at my face, he asked, “Where are you from?” Before I could utter anything more than “Excuse me?” he pulled the trigger from point blank range.
On this International Day of Peace, my RE-Birthday, I count my blessings for the second chance I was given. There isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not fully aware of how close I came to death at the hands of hate.
Though not visible to most, I still carry countless scars from that day. Despite all that I lost and endured, I remained here in America, rebuilding my life in the very place that tore it apart. Kind, empathetic Americans from incredibly diverse backgrounds helped me begin to recover. THIS was the country I had learned so much about as a child. This is also why I am extraordinarily proud to be an American, my adopted home for over twenty years.
Today, I see too many of my fellow Americans allowing ignorance and fear to fuel hatred and even violence toward those considered unlike them. Tragically, this is the very same ideology of my attacker for much of his life. In addition to killing two and nearly taking my life, he ultimately paid the ultimate price – having been executed for his crimes.
On this United Nations’ International Day of Peace, hate crime in America is at a 16-year high. We are more divided than ever, with too many ready and willing to hurt others. It is time for us to recommit to being the great country we truly are – respecting our fellow human beings as they are. Taking the time to get to know others, especially someone you consider unlike you, brings great gifts. My attacker hated me when he didn’t know me, but in the end, said he loved me. Once you get to know the other, it’s hard for you to hate them.
In the end, we all have much in common – what you want for yourself and your family, are the same things that the people you think you don’t like want for themselves and their families – love, respect, peace, happiness, opportunity. Life will truly be more peaceful for us all if we commit to treating people as humans first – with compassion and empathy, understanding and acceptance, and to teach our future generations to do the same.
~ Rais Bhuiyan, Founder & President, World Without Hate
September 11th, 2001 happened to be my day off. Every Tuesday I could sleep a little longer. As I began making breakfast, I turned on the news and saw one of the twin towers get hit by a plane. I assumed it was a trailer for a movie, but when I saw the second tower hit, my initial thoughts vanished, and I knew something terrible was happening in New York, my first home in my adopted country. Like everyone, I was shocked, horrified, and then paralyzed by fear.
Immediately, everything changed. Traditionally friendly customers, at the gas station I worked at, became angry and looked at me with suspicion. No matter where I was, I no longer felt safe. I knew my life in America would never be the same. In fact, I dreamed about what would inevitably happen to me, three times, before I was actually gunned down.
On September 21st, the self-proclaimed True American on a revenge shooting spree, burst into the convenience store, shot me from point blank range, and left me for dead on the cold concrete floor. Though I survived, inexplicable damage remains. There is not a single day I am not reminded of, or impacted by, this painful tragedy and must constantly work to make peace with my pain. Still, I am extraordinarily proud to be an American. It is why, after my shooting, I chose to remain, rebuilding my life in the very place that tore it apart.
Like most Americans, each September 11th brings a rush of emotions. I reflect on how much our country lost that day; the thousands of innocent lives shockingly, and suddenly taken; and how quickly fellow comrades rushed in to aid victims. That most horrific day brought out the best in our fellow community members. 9/11 is indeed a catastrophically tragic day in American history, but it was also a time of extraordinary unity, solidarity, and coming together. Did anyone hesitate because of skin color before running into the burning towers to help others escape? Did anyone pause to ask another about their religion, ethnicity, or socioeconomic background before scooping them into their arms and carrying them further to safety? Did anyone hesitate to donate generously, give blood, or volunteer to comfort strangers?
And yet, 19-years later, that tremendous unity, strong patriotism, and historic fellowship is overshadowed by immense intolerance, fear, mistrust, and hate. In fact, hate crime has reached a 16-year high. Far too many are acting as if we are at war, ready to take the lives of those we do not understand or agree with. We are fighting against each other rather than working together for justice, equity, and peace for all. Do we truly want to live and raise our children in such an intolerant and hate filled country?
Today, like you, I live in a free country, but I often wonder, are we all truly free? The only place I feel safe in America is after passing security at the airport. This is not who we are; this is not our America. Our America is great because there is nothing we can’t fix or achieve; it’s the country where change is possible; it’s the country where an immigrant like me could fulfill his dreams after being shot in the face and hitting rock bottom. Americans are capable of extraordinary grace and compassion when they open their hearts to others, as many did for me in the months and years after my attack.
I am here today, in part, because of the man who tried to end my life. When I was able to see him as a human being, and not just a killer, and connected to him with forgiveness and empathy, he embraced me as his brother. It was one of his final requests, asking me to continue the human rights work I had started, helping others get beyond hate and prevent violence.
Where might we start to disrupt cycles of hate and violence? How can we begin to see others, especially those we think are different from us, as human first? A first step towards peace, understanding, and acceptance is teaching ourselves, and each other, empathy. We can then begin to respect others more equally, as human beings, regardless of differences. We certainly don’t have to like everyone we meet, but we can, and must, respect others as we want to be respected.
On this 19th anniversary of 9/11, I urge us to recall the strength in unity and patriotism shared during that day of sheer terror, chaos and unknown. We can indeed come back together, stronger and united as one nation, just as we have demonstrated before.
~ Rais Bhuiyan, a post 9/11 hate crime survivor is the founder of World Without Hate, an international speaker, & the subject of The True American, Murder & Mercy in Texas.
White supremacy is an ideology and worldview and is part of all of us living in this country. While all women are oppressed by the patriarchal values manifested within US society, white women are simultaneously beneficiaries of systemic racism and are therefore complicit in upholding and perpetuating racist ideologies. How can white women leverage their/our position of being both the oppressed and the oppressor in order to dismantle the social hierarchies that perpetuate inequality? In partnership with Project Humanities of Arizona State University.
This panel discussion will be conducted via Zoom and streamed on Facebook Live with opportunity for audience input. Interested attendees must RSVP via Eventbrite to receive the Zoom Webinar link and password.
“One second of hate can cause a lifetime of pain.” Lying in the middle of a concrete chamber, tied to a gurney, moments away from death, these were the last few words spoken by my attacker. This month marks the 9th anniversary of Mark Stroman’s execution.
Mark came to realize this painful truth only after he killed two and nearly took my life as well. He said that while physically behind bars, he found mental freedom, getting beyond the fear, ignorance, and hatred that led him to murder. As he learned, and had a change of heart, Mark wanted nothing more than to transmit his messages to others like him. Far too many in the free world were locked up in a prison inside themselves because of the hate they carried in their hearts. He warned, “killing another human being is not something you can forget…please don’t stereotype people. Please don’t become a Mark Stroman.”
Yet, hate remains on the rise. According to the F.B.I., hate crime violence has hit a 16-year high. Physical assaults make up 61% of the total incidents recorded. We must also keep in mind, more than half of all hate crime victims never report to authorities in the first place.
I suppose, then, it’s not surprising that I see the reflections of Mark’s pain everywhere. The evidence is in our news feeds every day — in the routine killing of black people; in the rampant shootings in our schools, churches, synagogues, mosques, movie theaters and music festivals; in the swastikas painted on synagogue walls and the burning of mosques; in the devaluation and objectification of women; in the turning away of poor, tired refugees and immigrants; and in the violent attacks of peaceful protestors in our city streets.
What can we do to minimize this pain? It’s time we step back to reflect and explore the answers to these types of questions:
· Am I causing pain and suffering to others, even unintentionally?
· Are any of my words or actions disrespectful, bullying, or hateful in any way?
· Do I discriminate against anyone or any group of people?
· Does my fear, ignorance, or intolerance cause harm to others?
If the answer is YES, we need to ask ourselves – How and why? Am I unconsciously buying into stereotypes, misconceptions or irresponsibly reported stories from the media, internet or social media? Do I associate with others who are prejudice, racist or hateful? Do I actively speak up to family and friends who perpetuate dangerous falsehoods? What am I doing to try to learn and unlearn generations of historic myths and harm?
Become part of the movement to help build a world without hate. Help us create the world we want to leave for our next generations. How can you contribute to ending hate and violence, one heart and one mind, at a time? Please don’t hesitate to share your stories, thoughts, and ideas with us.
Though Mark suffered from tremendous childhood abuse and trauma, a lack of love, education & guidance, he ended his life in peace. Mark received love, kindness, and mercy from friends all over the world and people he once hated, renewing his faith in Jesus, and in humanity. Unfortunately, Mark’s awakening came too late and the state of Texas did not deem his life worthy of living. But, he asked me to carry-on with and for him. He did not want others to face his same fate. He did not want other lives to be destroyed or lost because of senseless hate and violence. Looking within ourselves, to be better people than we were yesterday, is one very large step toward building a safer, more equitable, and peaceful society for all. Join me, join us at World Without Hate, so we can realize that world.
Rest in Peace, Mark. I hope people in the free world will continue to learn from you and avoid the path that leads to a lifetime of pain.
~ Rais Bhuiyan, Founder, World Without Hate
Dear Mr. Lynch,
I’m writing today, as a retired Intelligence Officer and current interfaith/intercultural advocate, to challenge your statement that “Islam is a domestic enemy of America.” I will not address the sourcing of your social media post, other than to note that it appears (from open source) that individual’s knowledge of Islam may be self-taught. In addition, perhaps you are not aware that a well-funded anti-Muslim propaganda machine spends hundreds of millions of dollars fanning the flames of Islamophobia. Regardless, I offer below a different point of view, based on my extensive counterterrorism expertise, my formal study of Islam, and my personal interaction – as a Christian – with Muslims.
During my Intelligence career, spanning almost
32 years, I do not recall a single instance when Islam was ever identified as
“the enemy” – this includes the years after 9/11 until I retired in December
2014, during which I worked with counterparts in the Middle East, Europe,
Africa, and South East Asia to identify, penetrate, and disrupt terrorist
networks. Of note, for decades of my
career, I worked
shoulder-to-shoulder with counterparts around the globe of different faiths and
cultural backgrounds, pursuing enemies of mutual concern. Many of my professional successes –
particularly those accomplished with international partners – were not in spite
of our differences but BECAUSE of them. Given this, I was stunned at
the level of fear and hatred of “the other”, especially Muslims, that I
encountered when my husband and I retired to Greenville, South Carolina. It quickly became apparent that these
attitudes were a result of ignorance. Having lived, worked, and
vacationed in Muslim-majority countries for years, I began drawing on my
personal experiences to dispel dangerous myths about Islam voiced within the
community, and I accepted a position in an
Upstate nonprofit, actively engaged in building bridges between people of
different faiths and cultures.
As I transitioned from public service to work
in the interfaith/intercultural arena, I attended classes at a local university
and studied Islam, Judaism, and Hinduism.
I was amazed to learn how much these religions have in common, not only
with each other but also with Christianity.
During this period, I also read an English translation of the Qur’an,
cover to cover, so that I could see for myself what the Muslims’ holy book ACTUALLY says – paying
close attention to the verses often referenced by terrorists and anti-Muslim
hate groups. (In case you are wondering,
I do read and speak Arabic well enough to know that the English version of the
Qur’an mirrors the original text.) Pouring
through the pages of the Qur’an, I was fascinated to learn that Muslims and
Christians believe in the same God and that the Qur’an parallels many of the
same stories in the Bible. More
important, I realized that terrorists and anti-Muslim hate groups have hijacked
and distorted verses in the Qur’an to fit their evil agendas.
As I
dipped my toe into the waters of the interfaith arena, a colleague suggested
that I read a compelling historical account of
a Muslim world leader, well-known during the 19th century as one who demonstrated
through his actions – to include risking
his life to save thousands of Christians – the power of unifying people of
different faiths to combat evil, so that peace could prevail. In Commander of the Faithful/ The Life
& Times of Emir Abd el-Kader, author John W. Kiser tells the gripping
story of this Algerian leader, who won not only the trust, respect, and
admiration of the men under his command and tribes in the region but also of
Europeans who originally feared him and his family, because of stories they had
heard of atrocities committed by Arabs and Muslims. European hearts and minds were changed, and
stereotypes about Arabs and Islam were destroyed through PERSONAL INTERACTION
and INTERFAITH DIALOGUE.
This
leads me to my final point. Without
question, the best “sourcing” of information I can offer you about Islam is
drawn from my personal interaction with Muslims. As noted above, my husband and I (both
Christians) spent a considerable amount of time living, working, and
vacationing in Muslim-majority countries.
We look back fondly on the warmth and generosity extended to us by
Muslims in far away places, as they shared with us their rich traditions and
cultures, as well as the peace of Islam. As we settled into retirement in the Upstate,
we sought out the Muslim community and, as expected, the welcome we received
rivaled the legendary “Southern hospitality.”
During our four years in Greenville, we attended a number of events
hosted by the Islamic Society (open house outreach events, picnics,
fundraisers, cultural celebrations, Iftar dinners during Ramadan, etc.), and
each time we left inspired by the impressive efforts of these Muslim brothers
and sisters to make the Upstate, our country, and the world a better a better
place.
No
doubt COVID-19 has put a halt to many of the interfaith efforts in the
Upstate. As South Carolina reopens, I
encourage you to attend events hosted by the Islamic Society of Greenville, as
a way to meet your Muslim neighbors; perhaps start by attending an outreach
event at the mosque in Taylors. In addition to seeing
for yourself how much you have in common with these fellow-Americans, you will
learn that their religion is NOT based on violence or oppression but rather
peace and surrender to God’s will. My
husband and I not only attended this informative gathering at the mosque ourselves,
but we also returned a number of times, bringing friends with us – some of whom
had never knowingly spoken to a Muslim before.
It was exciting to see views of Islam change. If I were still in Greenville, I would offer
to accompany you to any of the interfaith events in the area. My husband and I left the Upstate in 2018, to
live closer to our daughters. I remain
in touch with my fellow interfaith/intercultural advocates in South Carolina, however,
so I have no doubt that I can find someone to answer any questions you might
have about Islam or to provide you with information about upcoming interfaith
programs.
I
close by sharing a story about Islamophobia that illustrates both the danger
posed by ignorance and the power of knowledge in ending hate. History has proven that ignorance breeds fear
that can lead to hate; left unchecked, that hate can result in violence. A dear friend of mine found himself on the
receiving end of this deadly escalation of ignorance to violence almost 19
years ago. Days after the 9/11 terrorist
attacks, Mark Stroman – a white supremacist calling himself “the Arab Slayer” –
walked into the convenience store where Rais Bhuiyan
was working. Stroman was on a shooting spree
and, from close range, he shot Rais (mistaken as an Arab) in the face.
Rais,
the sole survivor of Stroman’s hate, not only forgave his would be killer, but he
also fought to prevent his execution. Drawing
on his Islamic faith, Rais launched an inspiring campaign to save Stroman’s
life, exhausting all possibilities. Although
Rais’ efforts failed, before Stroman was executed, he learned about his
victim’s tireless efforts to spare his life.
During a phone call with Rais, shortly before his execution, Stroman told
Rias, “I love you, bro. I mean it.” Among Stroman’s
last recorded words were the following: “Hate is going on in this world, and it has to stop.
One second of hate will cause a lifetime of pain.”(
http://www.clarkprosecutor.org/html/death/US/stroman1262.htm)
I’m
proud to serve on the board of World Without Hate, the nonprofit that Rais and
his wife Jessica established in their ongoing quest to break the cycle of hate
and violence through respectful dialogue.
My passion for their work and my respect for our Muslim brothers and
sisters in Greenville drove me to speak out against the dangerous Islamophobic
message posted on your Facebook campaign page.
Respectfully, Marisa W. Barthel
Note: Mark Lynch was running for State Senate, District 12, in South Carolina.
It took me several days to finally bring myself to watch the footage of Ahmaud Arbery’s murder. The images keep replaying in my mind.
Did he feel a cold rush through his spine once he realized these men were pursuing him?
Did his mind race with fear and strategy and confusion… Why is this truck following me? What should I do? Should I keep running?
Did he know he was moments away from dying?
As he was lying on the road, blood pouring from his body, was he begging his God for life?
I’ll never forget the image of Ahmaud Arbery. His lifeless body now placed into the carousel of my mind, with too many other black and brown lives gunned down by hate.
It never escapes me that I am fortunate enough to be here today. I survived the brutal hate of white supremacy. I know what it feels like to be sought out based on the color of your skin. I will never forget seeing myself on the edge of life and death, the images of my loved ones fading in and out, struggling to stay awake, fighting to stay alive. I continue to carry the scars of hate – physically, mentally, and emotionally. While I continue to make peace with my pain, I won’t ever forget what it’s like to be seen as inhuman, unworthy of life, a heartbeat meant for extinction.
I will never understand how seemingly easy it is for people like Ahmaud’s killers to take a human life, but also how acceptable it is in our country. Though I grew up in Bangladesh, I learned about American history, culture and its topnotch educational system. While I was familiar with America’s tangled, racist, violent beginnings, I couldn’t truly understand the magnitude of hate on marginalized communities until I migrated here. I am extraordinarily proud to be an American and there is so much I love about this great country. It is why, after being shot in the face from point blank range, I remained here, rebuilding my life in the very place that tore it apart. And so, it is as a hate crime survivor and an American, that I keep Ahmaud (and all those before and after him) in the forefront of my mind, trying to give them voice through my own.
In addition to sharing my story, advocating for human rights, and speaking out against hate and violence, it is imperative for me and for all of us to keep learning about our country, its history and its people. How can we save black and brown lives from senseless hate, violence, and death if we don’t commit to fully understanding the root cause? How can we create change if we don’t rectify our past first? We must try to imagine ourselves in Ahmaud’s shoes, but we must also deeply reflect upon the slave origins of our country too. Picture yourself for a moment – innocent and free and then captured, beaten, shackled, and shipped across the ocean to a foreign land, forced into hard labor – that is, if you even survived. Abolishing slavery seems so righteous, but if America had truly freed our black brothers and sisters, wouldn’t more of them be able take a leisurely jog in a quiet suburban town without losing their life on the middle of the street?
We cannot change the past. But we have the power to shape our future. Those who are guilty of this tragic, barbaric murder must be brought to justice. As a nation, we must collectively demand action – not for a few days or a week – but until equality and justice has prevailed for all. Even then, we cannot stop talking about Ahmaud or victims like him. We must stop thinking that we have the luxury of moving on. Ahmaud’s family doesn’t have such privilege. I can’t simply stop the nightmares or wish away the bullet fragments embedded in my skull. Instead of forgetting, it is high time for us to be brutally honest with ourselves. America suffers from its racist, intolerant, and hateful past; a history that continues to take the lives of innocent, unarmed black men, but WE have the power to repair it.
With empathy, and our sincerest intentions, we have the power to eradicate racism, intolerance, hate, and violence from our communities, and truly move forward as one, united and peaceful nation. It’ll be far from easy and it won’t be swift. But, if we fail to finally rise up and protect the sanctity of life, how can we possibly call ourselves the land of the brave and the home of the free.
~ Rais Bhuiyan, Founder, World Without Hate
Right now, at this moment, while all of our lives have turned upside down and inside out, it may seem impossible to look at something like the coronavirus pandemic and see anything but catastrophe. Yet, the human capacity to rise above, even in the most difficult of times, always has a way of shining through. We all face difficulties, not to be destroyed by them, but to help rediscover ourselves and extract the inner strength we are often unaware of having. During Wednesday’s virtual Rotary program, fellow Seattle 4 Rotarian, Rais Bhuiyan shares his experiences and inspiration as we navigate through this incredibly uncertain and frightening time together.
Shot by a white supremacist ten days after 9/11, Rais Bhuiyan not only survived this brutal hate crime, he went on to forgive his assailant and worked tirelessly to try and save him from death row. Rais later created the non-profit, World Without Hate (WWH), the manifestation of his death-bed promise, dedicating his life to disrupting hate and violence through storytelling and empathy education. To date, Rais has engaged with more than 250,000 people globally, from classrooms, college campuses, maximum-security prisons, refugee camps, religious forums, to town halls, city councils, and conferences. More information can be found at www.worldwithouthate.org.
