I feel like this blog is going to turn into a series of self-affirmative posts reminding myself more than anyone else that I am indeed a writer… if it isn’t already one.
I don’t want to bore y’all (anymore than I have already), but I would be remiss (some voice inside is telling me that I am already remiss for using the word “remiss”) if I did not write about this past week.
So let’s start from the beginning.
This past Labour Day weekend, I attended the 53rd Annual ISNA Convention. For those of you who do not know, ISNA stands for Islamic Society of North America. It’s the largest Islamic organization in all of North America. It’s headquartered in Indiana, about an hour away from where I currently live. I honestly don’t know too much about the organization – it might be a little too mainstream for me, to be honest (I have this thing with anything that’s too trendy. Like, I literally have a hard time liking something knowing it’s popular. It’s the remnant emo in me, I suppose). The Annual Convention is a mainstay for North American Muslims; not necessarily for the lectures, but mostly for the bazaar. This past weekend was my second time attending the convention (y’know, because I am too cool to do what the masses do). Last year, I had to go for work. This year, I also went for work… but not for any work that I had officially started *silly smile*
As many of you know, I’ve been trying to dedicate more time to actually being a writer (not just saying that I like to write, as they are two different things). One of Mr. Rafia’s good friends, who is also a writer, got me in touch with an online media publication called About Islam. I had been exchanging emails with a section editor for a few weeks, but it wasn’t until ISNA that I got an actual assignment. My first ever journalistic assignment!
True story: I considered a career in journalism back in the 10th grade. And I remember being shot down immediately the second I proclaimed this fact to a particular gathering. I never seriously considered journalism again after that. I don’t blame this person. If I really wanted to be a journalist, I would have become one. But I have to admit, a part of me now feels vindicated.
Okay, okay, so I’m using the word “journalist” very loosely here. The articles I wrote haven’t even been published yet and I am not sure that I even want to share them. But hey, at least I got this awesome press pass out of the whole thing:
I am officially part of the problem, peoples!
So, that was cool.
In the course of writing my articles, I happened to re-discover this wonderful website called State of Formation. They have a blog where “emerging religious and ethical leaders” come together “to engage in dialogue through an online format.” A couple of my friends have actually written for it. I don’t know, maybe it’s because I am still reeling from this past weekend, but I decided to submit the application to become a Contributing Scholar this morning. I have a Master’s degree in Religious Studies, I did some relatively ground-breaking interfaith work and want to re-start that work, and I am a blogger – so why not? Normal Rafia would say, “I’ll do it later” but then doubt her abilities and never come back to later. New Energized Rafia was like, “There’s no time like the present! Submit it NOW!” So I did. Let’s see what happens.
Unfortunately, this blog post is long enough as it is, so I’ll leave it at that. I guess that’s what happens when you don’t blog for ALMOST TWO WEEKS! I hate to be trendy and all, but you know, I was really busy, okay? ;)
Thank you for reaching the end of this post! I really mean it. You, the reader, are the reason why I continue to blog and I am so grateful for your continued support. I know how hard it is to hold a reader’s attention, especially when I am competing against cat videos galore. I don’t do any cute little tricks, and yet you make me feel special regardless!
Have a great weekend, y’all!