I am an educator, a writer, an activist, a wife, a daughter, and a practicing Muslim woman.
But when I think of who I am, I think in relation to my family.
My ethics did not come from class but from my parents. My parents taught me the importance of giving back to the community, and are heavily involved in community development, and philanthropy both in Queens and abroad. My parents possess a true generosity that extends beyond race, culture, class, and kinship. We are immigrants, originally from Bangladesh, with no family except the one that we have built in the places that we live.
My mother often cooked meals large enough to feed clients and families who traveled great distances to do their taxes with my father. In fact, my father has clients from Florida, Nevada, Georgia, and all over the continental US. His clients have been loyal, some for 15+ years. I learned from my parents the importance of working hard not just for yourself, but for others. My father essentially helps people pay their taxes. My mother loves to give, usually by listening and cooking, welcoming diverse clients to her Italian-American-Bangladeshi meals.
When I moved from New York to the suburbs of New Jersey, I experienced a real culture shock. I used to mock the Garden State, until I realized I would not be moving from New Jersey... ever. I realized that the only thing that would help me adjust to suburbia was doing work that was meaningful to me, meeting new people, and making connections. I began visiting my grandparents in law, most evenings after work. I saw their isolation, frustration, and poor quality of life. I wanted to make a difference in their life but I didn't know where to begin. I bought flowers, gifts, freshly cooked meals, and even their meds. Yet, none of these items qualitatively improved their mood. As with life in general, it's not about what you own that matters; its the relationships you have with the people in your life that matter. I enjoyed my grandparents' company, and began to look forward to my evenings with them.
I began to think how other young people might benefit from the experience of having an elderly person in their life. Enter: my intergenerational creative arts program.