Prayer Mats, ‘Peppa Pig’ and Patience: How I’m Raising My Muslim Kids

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/12/parenting/muslims-children.html

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My heart warms when I see my little girl imitating my prayer movements with her baby yoga moves. But the morning prayer (before dawn) is the not the time I would choose for a 1-year-old to get out of bed to emulate me. There is no way I am getting her back to sleep after she wanders around the room and starts to play peek-a-boo under my prayer robe.

I question whether there’s really a “God gene” as I contemplate nature versus nurture and how much influence I really have over my kids and their religious lives. I’m a Muslim woman trying to raise my children on a varied diet of faith and modernism, a halal Islamic lifestyle with a global worldview. Speaking of diets, I wonder if watching so much Peppa Pig will affect my son’s judgment to not eat pork? I guess it can only be a good thing, because why would he want to eat someone he considers a good friend?

Balancing raising a religious child with one who is also comfortable as a modern citizen in a multicultural world is a tricky task. There are contradictions and difficulties but also some benefits. I know where my moral compass lies and I am comfortable passing those values and beliefs on to my children. The bigger-picture, deep spiritual and religious issues are settled for me. But the day-to-day seemingly mundane things trip me up.

I was worried about navigating the food thing in preschool, until I realized that the current focus on allergies gives me two fewer things to worry about: If my son is allergic to something in a classmate’s lunchbox, he won’t be allowed to eat it since many preschools don’t allow sharing food; and if that food is not halal (permissible for a Muslim to eat; it’s the Islamic version of kosher) then he’s safe too, since food can’t be shared.

I don’t have to go into the nitty-gritty details about food with him just yet. Right now, I show him the symbol of the crescent moon and star on food packaging (or “moon-star” as we refer to it in my home) that indicates that the food is halal. I remember a Jewish friend once showing me both the kosher symbol and the moon-star on a packet of candy he offered me one day at university. What a score! And I’ve been noticing a lot more vegetarian and vegan symbols on food, too, which will hopefully help us all figure out our food restrictions with more ease.

I hate to be that person standing for ages in the food aisle, checking online whether obscure ingredients in strawberry jam are derived from animals or not. These nifty symbols give me peace.

On the health front (and on the pig front again) my stomach churned at the idea that many baby vaccines contain a porcine carrier. I do believe in vaccinating my kids, so I ran with the religious ruling allowing the vaccine, and got it done, without hesitation but with some residual irritation. Why is pork haunting my motherhood?

Sometimes religious traditions give my ego a boost, like the time I read about studies showing that giving babies a sugar gel was good for brain health, aligning with our Islamic tradition of rubbing a small piece of a mashed-up date onto a newborn’s palate. But then I second-guessed myself as I tried to balance the religious guidance that honey is shifaa (a cure for most illnesses) with current medical advice stating that it is not safe to give babies under 1 any honey, for fear of them contracting botulism. You win some, you lose some.

My child asking about who Santa is was easier to manage since that can easily be explained away as a made-up character akin to Batman. And that’s also one less thing to lie to my kids about. I don’t have to worry about when it’s the right time to shatter their childhoods with the truth.

But how and when to introduce such a profound and existential concept as God? I have not figured that out yet. We’ve had basic discussions but my young boy still thinks he can “shoot me dead” with a toy fire hose over and over again, so I don’t think I can push it that far yet.

The culture here in South Africa is open and accepting of all religions and life choices. Our Constitution is progressive, allowing girls to wear headscarves to school if they want to (although beards for boys are still debatable). But the wider global culture seems to present either a homogenized agnostic or atheistic and capitalist worldview, or some version of Christianity. The Western media often present Muslims in an unappealing way, and not in keeping with how me and my family live our lives. I worry those portrayals will affect my children, their self-images and their image of Islam. I need to figure out how to talk to them about this so they have a good inner voice, grounded in something other than the endless chatter around Islamophobia and the like.

But self-image is a long-term concern. More pressing right now: How can I be a tiger mom and let my kids do all-the-things when they need to go to madressa every afternoon (our more intense form of Sunday school, where kids learn the practice of religion, including reading the Quran in Arabic). There will never be time for other extra activities, so there goes that.

As a Muslim mom here are a few of the things I’m trying to remember as I send my kids out the door: snacks that are strictly halal; a bottle for washing with water after using the toilet; a tiny travel prayer mat; and a grounded sense of self that allows for religious belief and religious tolerance.

Religion has given me a good grounding from which to base my big decisions, but I’ve also got an added layer of things to worry about on my to-do list. I hope that the experience of trying to raise religious yet modern kids has deepened my empathy for other parents also struggling to navigate whatever different circumstances and challenges they face.

My kids will most likely not find it odd if a friend says grace before eating, or thanks God when things go well. Understanding one’s own religion, in my experience, also opens the door to questioning and learning about other religions. I trust the same will be true for my children, and that they will be able to engage with anyone in a curious and open manner. I hope that we can engage in discussions around agnosticism or atheism in a thoughtful way, too. And we won’t be looking askance at anyone with quirky dietary requirements that have nothing to do with health or allergies.

Aneesa Bodiat, a freelance writer and former corporate lawyer, lives with her family in South Africa.