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The Muslim Link Reviews TLC’s Reality Show on American Muslims
Seven episodes have passed since its November premiere of TLC’s newest reality show “All American Muslim” – an eight part reality series that follows the lives of five Muslim families in America’s highest population of American Muslims, Dearborn, Michigan. Somehow it is only now – one controversial ad resignation and plenty of local, regional, and national discussion later – that I have begun to write a review.
In its early episodes, the show begged for categorization and I – tempted by the ease of gratification – stamped it with the label of reality television, whisking it away into a world alongside TLC’s other shows “Toddlers Without Tiaras” and “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant.” It was satisfying. And it worked.
But not for long. As I stood in line at the local Target that morning, surrounded by a world of red and white, the incredulity of a male cashier forced me to reconsider the calculated indifference I had so hastily fashioned. “Don’t you know? Haven’t you seen?” the man said, “It’s beautiful. The way things should be.” That night, I sat down to watch all five episodes of the reality TV show, forgetting for a moment all that I heard. I was not moved by the cashier’s emotional remarks; rather I was awoken to the reality that this show was real. That because of this show a cashier that would have normally limited to our conversation to “Have a nice day” or at most a passing comment about the weather took the liberty to express his opinion, to create dialogue. That because of this show, this man had taken a glimpse into the lives of Muslims and come out with a new understanding. And that because of this show, the woman he saw over the counter was someone different.
That night, I watched seven episodes of All-American Muslim, forgetting for one moment the red and white TLC logo that stood guard on the edge of the screen. It was me and the characters, nothing else: the Amens - with a daughter who wears the hijab and is active in the community, the single mom Shadia decorated in tattoos and piercing, and the youngest daughter struggling to conceive with her husband, the Aoudes – a couple facing the challenges and joys of their first child, the Bazzy-Aliahmads – with a wife who dresses scantily and wants to open a nightclub, the Jafaaars – with a police officer husband whose family is an example of true citizens, and the Zabans – the most “conservative” of all the families with a football coach who guides his team, even in Ramadan. My hand frequently reached for the forward button on my remote – both for scenes of an Arab wedding where it seemed the only thing Halal was the food but also for scenes of a Muslim family having dinner and a Muslim woman worrying about her pregnancy.
I had gathered my conclusion: this show was not really much. I came to this conclusion not because I found no seriousness in reality television. Nor was I so self-deluded to think that a show spotlighting five Lebanese Muslim families did not aptly represent the millions of Muslims in the United States. All of these concerns aside, there was one thing that was quite true: the show was simply quite boring. A young football coach training the high school team; a small-town cop raising a family with his high school sweetheart; a female entrepreneur struggling with the risks of a new business venture - by most sensationalist standards, these characters would not be at the center of a reality show; however, these were the exact stars of this reality show. The show does not ask any hard-hitting questions about Islam and terrorism nor does it spark any unnecessary furor to gin up our interest. It is a rather quiet look at the lives of five American Muslim families.
And it is in this representation the show’s greatest weakness and its greatest strength lies.
All-American Muslim or All of America’s Muslims?
The show does well to represent many hues of Muslims – those who do not cover, those who do cover, those who are Muslim by name, those who are not, those who are trying, those who leave it to God. I commend TLC for understanding the importance of diversity, for understanding that within our communities, there is variance just as there is in any Christian community. The show could have focused primarily on Muslims of a very focused leaning, but it does not. However, while there is certainly quite a bit that could have been worse, there is also quite a bit that could have been better. For in this mix, a key player is missing: the Muslim who is not quite as modern, the Muslim who does not dance in public while donning a hijab, the Muslim whose life truly revolves around application of the Quran and Sunnah.
Now, as we enter this discussion, it is a given that we cannot judge other Muslims for the contents of their hearts, for the pureness of the faith. Some have adamantly supported the wide, diverse portrayal of Muslims. Others have lamented and protested against the all-too-tall emphasis on “All-American” at the expense of the focus: Muslims. There are some Muslims who see this request for a “practicing” Muslim on the show as a way of questioning the sincerity and faith of the other cast members – particularly those who do not cover and do not practice openly.
Of course there is no guarantee that having a “proper” Muslim on the show who covers completely and follows the Sunnah every step of the way means that person is more pious than the woman who does not cover, the man who freely talks with women! Of course, we are no one to judge other Muslims for their eeman by how they act! Of course, there is no guarantee that anyone’s outward actions mirror that which is in their heart!
But when you have a show that is broadcast to millions of homes across the nations, this concern needs to be raised. This show represents us. And while the woman who does not cover may be more pious than any niqabi woman, this show needs that niqabi woman. It needs that “proper Muslim” who may not be as religiously adherent as a niqabi, but who does wear hijab, who does not hang out with non-mahram men, who has made Islam the most key part of his or her life. If the American public is seeing a picture of the Muslim community, they must see a complete version of it, not one where there is a missing link. That much, they deserve.
This problem of misrepresentation exists not only in the absence of the “conservative” Muslim, but also with the presence of the cast members, all of whom are Lebanese. How could a show that stood on the very principle of dispelling misconception feed off of it’s the poison that was working against it? How could this show dispel misnomers by propelling the misnomer that all Arabs were Muslim forward?
I called a TLC producer to find out. “We surveyed quite a few families but we really fell in love with these families,” he said, “We just fell in love with them and that was that.” Another spokesperson added, “This show isn’t named All Of America’s Muslim - it’s named All-American Muslim.”
Now, we should not be so self-deluded so as to expect TLC – The Learning Channel – to live up to its name as much as MTV – Music Television – devotes its programming solely to the enjoyment and propagation of music. Nor should we expect that there exists some obligation in the entertainment world to represent the Muslim community in its entirety. I ask for not a calculated and completely comprehensive representation, but for a more complete one. To ask an in-depth award-winning documentary maker to represent all of America’s Muslims would be sheer folly – let alone asking a TLC producer. The producers quite quickly shoved off this concern by focusing on the adjective of this show’s title – All-American. If you want to play this game of adjective specification, specify the Muslims you represent. Specify that this is indeed a show about All-American Arab Muslims. Nothing more. That much is possible.
The Bigger Picture
However, this debate over the emphasis on the adjective over the emphasis on the noun is trivial compared to the nation-wide controversy that spewed headlines across the nation-wide: when the retail store giant Lowe’s pulled its advertising from the show. “…this program became a lightning rod for many of those views. As a result we did pull our advertising on this program,” the company said in an official statement, “We believe it is best to respectfully defer to communities, individuals and groups to discuss and consider such issues of importance.” The conservative Florida Family Association, which pushed advertisers to drop “All-American Muslim” cheered the decision, calling the show “propaganda that riskily hides the Islamic agenda’s clear and present danger to American liberties and traditional values.” A show with a relatively small meager viewership compared to “Little People, Big World’s” holiday special suddenly became a hot topic. Muslims and non-Muslims gathered in front of local Lowe’s store holding signs like “How Lowe can you go?”
Seeing this, I was reminded.
Yes, the only real message of this show is that Muslims are just like you. Muslims can be All-American, America! We’re normal just like you. We worry about our children – born and unborn. We participate in sports. We are ordinary citizens. As a community, we can protest this message; we can discuss its lack of representation. But Lowe’s advertising decision proved again that a message as simple and as basic as this was necessary, is necessary.
And if this show can go the length to show that cashier at Target the basic truth that “Islam can be beautiful,” I support it. Yes, it disappoints me that reality TV programming deems it necessary to start with the pitch that “Muslims are just like you!” Yes, it disappoints me that the show represents only a miniscule part of the American Muslim community, among many other qualms. Yes, it disappoints me that even a show so ordinary and so simplistic as All-American Muslim was attacked for having an Islamist agenda. But for a reality show, it has started discussion. It has shown that American Muslims – not All-American Muslims – have much work to do – on the screen and off the screen, in our homes and in our mosques. Yes, you can brush this show off by questioning the reality of reality shows. It is my hope that whatever your opinion – whether disgust, love, or indifference – you use this reality show as a reminder that our own individual realities are shows for others – in our mosques, in our schools, in our offices, and in our homes. We need no camera and unscripted TV discussion session to act as Muslims, to use our lives as a da’wah tool, to be the best dispeller of misconceptions. I pray we can work to perfect them, inshaAllah.
And as far as TLC’s reality show is concerned, it seems that the most apt summary of the show is summarized by the passing comment of the same cashier who urged me to watch the show, a comment that neither attacks a non-representative and vague show nor praises its immense beauty and impact. “It’s just about everybody loving everybody, you know?”
Indeed.
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