The Absence of Light

     I associate everything with colors. Everything. Every number, letter and word has its own specific color in my mind. I have no idea how this strange little phenomenon started, and frankly I thought I would grow out of it. But... that has yet to happen.  Each color, to me, has its own special qualities and sparks unique feelings in each place in which it exists--each color but gray. For some reason, gray seems like it represents absence--absence of light, absence of feeling, absence of happiness. The color of neutrality and sorrow.  For these reasons, and also due to the fact that the book's cover is gray, I think gray seems like the most appropriate color for the novel. While I did enjoy reading The Submission by Amy Waldman, I found several aspects of the story line extremely disturbing. As a student who will take my third year of Arabic this fall, I found the stereotypes and prejudices against Muslims, or even people who simply look like Muslims, shocking and saddening. I realize that Waldman wrote this as a work of fiction, but I know that some of these stereotypes still exist today (Ironically, when I think of the word "stereotype," I think of the color gray).  I found one moment particularly saddening: When Khan decided that, in order for the American population to fully accept his monument, he needed to "downplay any Islamic influence" (245). For anyone to feel that they need to hide their culture and ethnic background in order to gain the approval of others makes me extremely uncomfortable. The fact that he chose to do this to appeal to his American audience also embarrasses me and makes me feel inexplicably guilty. Guilt, to me, also has an aura of gray surrounding it. I also felt guilty when Claire Burwell, one of the sole supporters of Khan's monument, announced that "'Americans, many of them, are afraid'" (268). Fear, in addition to guilt, has an aura of gray surrounding it.  Fear, guilt, and the absences of happiness and light seemed to swirl around throughout the novel.  Additionally, when I imagine skyscrapers or big cities in general, I think of gray--it not only represents the color of most buildings but also the color of pavement and therefore the color of the absence of nature. I felt that absences played a subtle yet essential role in this novel--as I read, I found references to the absence of toleration, the absence of peace, the absence of empathy, the absence of acceptance and the absence of enlightenment, all of which hold that constant, depressing aura of gray.

The Power of Empathy

     For me, the hardest part about giving advice comes up when I have to decide how and when to give it. I find it difficult to pinpoint the most appropriate time to give it in relation to how effective I hope to make the advice. Fortunately, though, giving advice to a fictional character proves much less challenging. While reading the second section of Amy Waldman's The Submission, I found Sean's plight particularly problematic--not so much in what he did, but specifically in his thoughts and feelings toward Claire Burwell.  While contemplating Claire's seemingly extravagant lifestyle, he thought, "maybe money makes you feel less" (130). I do not agree with this, nor do I believe that money has anything to do with one's feelings--especially toward the death of a loved one. The death of Cal, Claire's beloved husband, seemed understandably traumatic to both Claire and her children. The juxtaposition of Claire's financial status to Sean's makes it slightly more understandable for Sean to believe something like this.  Both Claire and Sean, however, lost family members in the tragic attacks on September 11th, 2001, and seeing Claire's "mansion" made it easy for Sean to judge her (129). Sean, in his jealousy, saw Claire's money and house as a way to escape from reality.  Waldman makes the assertion here that feelings of jealousy can and usually do overshadow any trace of empathy or compassion towards others in in similar situations. While reading this specific passage, I wanted to tell Sean to try his best to feel empathetic. He and Claire have much in common, more than he realizes--both had close family members die in the 9/11 attacks and still suffer from the losses every day. People do not yet realize the full extent of the unconstrained, unleashed power of empathy in our society. A little compassion instead of jealousy can go a long way, and, in Sean's case, he has the potential gain a powerful ally. While I realize that one can not simply push aside all feelings of jealousy and resentment to make room for a sudden, new-found sense of empathy, I also realize that taking small steps on the road to compassion will, in the end, become astonishingly effective.

The Root of all Prejudice

     While aftermath of the 9/11 attacks undeniably left Americans feeling stunned and resentful, it also left them with a powerful anti-Muslim sentiment. Amy Waldman skillfully writes about this sentiment in her novel, The Submission, along with how it affects the construction of a monument honoring those who died in the attacks on September 11th, 2001. Shortly after the tragedy, millions of people sent anonymous submissions to a committee in New York City who would eventually choose one design as the new monument. After choosing the winner, however, they soon learned that the monument had been designed by a Muslim, Mohammad Khan. When reporters revealed the name to the public, pandemonium broke loose. How could anyone in their right mind choose a Muslim's design for the monument? According to one member on the committee's jury, if they would decide to confirm Khan as the victor,"they [the Muslims] will feel like they've won" (19). This juror acts as a synecdoche for the majority of the New York City population--she believes that all Muslims strive to harm Americans, and therefore to construct a monument designed by a Muslim, no matter how beautiful or meaningful, would not only give the Muslims a sense of satisfaction but also add a sense of irony to the process in that a Muslim had created a monument in memorial of a tragedy caused by Muslims. Claire Burwell, a member of the committee who lost her husband in the attacks, so far appears as the only supporter of Khan's memorial. When she first heard the disapproval of everyone on the committee, she announced that her "husband would be appalled" (23). In bringing her dead husband into the argument, Claire implied that the prejudice against the Islam religion that these attacks brought about seemed unfair and unjust. She argued that, if the attacks had not happened, to choose a Muslim as a winner of an architectural contest would not even begin to raise questions regarding ethics and ethnicity. As I got further and further into the book, I found myself siding more and more with Claire. The majority of Americans took what a small group of radical Muslims had done on 9/11 and applied their opinions of them to the entire Muslim population. Because of this ignorance and fallacious reasoning, following 9/11, some Americans treated all Muslims unfairly. I believe that such prejudice existed merely because "people are afraid"--afraid of the differences in religion, ethnic background, and values (75). Ignorance of other cultures creates fear, which inevitably sparks prejudice. In order to avoid this ignorance, which, as Waldman exemplifies in her novel, appears at the root of prejudice, we need to educate ourselves as much as possible on different cultures and their values, actions, rituals, and beliefs--anything that may differ from ours. While we can never totally eliminate all prejudice from our society, by educating ourselves and others we can drastically and effectively reduce it.