prof samuel

350 words 

2 scholarly resources 

The subject of this reading response concerns the relationship between Islam and national identity. The readings for next week, one by David Radford, and two by myself (I was not able to scan the Borbieva chapter, unfortunately) give us very different perspectives on what this relationship looks like.

Please write 200-250 words comparing Radford and Artman’s perspectives on the relationship between Islam and national identity. What were their main arguments? Where do they agree? Where do they disagree? Please also discuss how some of the readings from week 11 (Peshkova, Rasanayagam, Privratsky) might inform our understanding of the debate about national identity and religion. Which perspective did you find most persuasive? (and you don’t have to agree with me just because I wrote some of the readings – remember what we’ve learned in class: it’s ok to disagree!). What did you find most interesting about the readings for these two weeks?

The Philadelphia Inquirer, Sunday, April 5, 1998

Southwest Philadelphia

How where we live shapes who we are and how we view the world around us.

The 2000 block of Cecil Street is a tiny thoroughfare nestled between 57th and 58th Streets, and Kingsessing and Greenway Avenues in Southwest Philadelphia. Nearly 30 years have passed since I called it my home and 20 since I’ve as much as driven its length. I hear it has fallen on hard times. In the 1960s, it was a world that provided a young Irish Catholic boy an environment rich in stability, warmth and security the likes of which my own children are likely never to know. 1

Perhaps the most significant trait of our block was the manner in which everyone who lived there seemed like extended family. It was no exaggeration to say you knew every single person who lived in every house on the street. Because we lived in such close proximity, I often felt as if my friends’ parents were surrogate aunts and uncles, watching over us as we played and fought with each other. It was difficult to get away with any mischief. 2

Another major influence in the development of our character was our church and school. Most Blessed Sacrament, 56th and Chestnut Avenue. Although there were times when I wished the sisters who taught us had been less rigid in their utilization of the yardstick as a device of discipline, the years I spent there as a student provided me a solid foundation upon which future educational endeavors could be met. I now recall those early years with a sense of gratitude and fondness toward the fine women who sacrificed so much to answer a higher calling. Despite my later alienation from organized religion, the people who constituted the local parish were among the finest I’ve encountered in my 40 years. 3

Inevitably, childhood memories primarily consist of how we spent our leisure time- particularly during the summer months. On Cecil Street and the small blocks that surrounded it, playtime meant engaging in some variation of baseball: stickball, half ball, box ball, step ball, wall ball, etc. 4

To escape the insufferable midsummer heat, the teenagers in the area would occasionally turn on the fire hydrant at the end of the block. Peering into the past is usually an exercise in gazing through “rose colored glasses.” Yet many of the societal ills that now plague our nation existed then: domestic abuse, alcoholism, racism, teenage gang warfare, to name a few. Even as school children, we were aware that all was not well with our insulated, tiny world. But there was never any concern about being snatched off the street by a stranger, perhaps because that nosy Mrs. So-and-So was keeping such a close eye on us. 5

I now live in a suburban community in southern New Jersey. It is quiet and peaceful enough, and there is relatively little crime. However, for the 10 years I’ve been a resident here, I have seen the homes on the cul-de-sac in which I live change hands so many times I’ve lost count. There have been (and still are) neighbors whose names I do not know, and I’m certain they do not know the names of my children. I am not totally blameless for this circumstance because it would be simple enough for me to introduce myself and my family to them, but I get the distinct impression that some of them would prefer to remain strangers. 6

Maybe it is the disparity between the “neighborhood” in which I was raised an d the one my children call home that I now bemoan. Most of the residents of my development (myself included) appear to be much too busy to engage in the process of building a neighborhood or a “community.” Many of the people living here perceive their houses as “starter-homes”- transitional residences where they must live until they are financially secure enough to purchase a larger (and more isolated) single-family home. The vast majority of families living here need the income generated by both parents to sustain the lifestyle we have chosen and desire. In the process, we have become alienated from one another. 7

In spite of my grievances, I do enjoy where I now live. My children are growing up in an environmental somewhat free of the chaos and violence that exists in some of Philadelphia’s neighborhoods; the school system is providing a more-than-adequate education; and there is a veritable smorgasbord of community sponsored activities and sports programs. However, there is an ineffable void – one that might be addressed if we took the time out from running our children from one event to another to become acquainted, discover our mutual interests and hopes for the future, and fill in the missing pieces of the communal puzzle. 8

Michael C. McCauley

Sewell