I love Islam and cream soda

Fingerprint Becoming Muslim is about identity. That has become one of the central themes of my life. When I converted to Islam, I was twenty-three years old, sitting in prison. Up to that point, I had spent five years as an ad ult and had accomplished virtually nothing that resembled becoming a man. I had no career, no reputation, no meaningful identity. I wasn't known for anything except being another inmate—a statistic. Then I became Muslim. For the first time in my life, I could answer the question, "Who are you?" with something that had substance. I was no longer simply a convict or a felon. I was a Muslim. That single decision became the foundation upon which I built everything else. For more than three decades since then, I have been developing that identity. My shahada was not merely a religious conversion; it became the fingerprint of my life. And like any fingerprint, it left its impression on everything it touched. The first place that fingerprint ap...

23 Questions ... There is an old saying often attributed to Abraham Lincoln: "It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt." Whether Lincoln actually said those words is beside the point. The lesson remains timeless. Far too often, Muslims enter discussions about Christianity armed with conviction but lacking preparation. Likewise, many Christians critique Islam without first understanding what Muslims actually believe. Instead of meaningful dialogue, both sides frequently speak past one another, repeating familiar slogans rather than engaging the evidence. This book was written to address that problem. It is not intended to mock Christianity. It is not intended to insult Christians. Nor is it intended to discourage respectful dialogue between people of different faiths. Rather, it is written from the conviction that every Muslim should understand both his own religion and the questions most commonly raised abou...

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Attacks on Michelle Obama aren't new. They tap into one of the oldest racist stereotypes in American history: the idea that Black women are somehow less feminine, less delicate, less worthy of protection, and somehow closer to men than other women. This wasn't just about insults. It had a purpose. For centuries, portraying Black women as unusually strong, masculine, or physically different helped justify exploiting their labor in fields, homes, factories, and plantations. If society could convince itself that Black women were built differently, then it became easier to deny them the care, compassion, and protection afforded to others. The echoes of that thinking remain with us today. Study after study has documented racial disparities in healthcare, including the persistent myth that Black people—and Black women in particular—experience less pain. Black mothers continue to face disproportionately high rates of maternal mortality and complications, regardless of income or educat...