Minarets

People sometimes ask me what it was like living in a small town in northern Alberta during the early years of the War on Terror. They’re surprised to hear that it was fine. Neither my family’s home nor our business was ever vandalized, and I don’t recall feeling ostracized. Far from the United States and Europe, where anti-Muslim hate seemed focused, I felt no shift in how I was viewed or treated. The only dramatic change was inside of me.

As I looked around, it seemed the majority of Muslim youth, like my older sister and cousins, were pulled closer to their faith after 9/11. They appeared empowered by it, even if they still struggled to reconcile this piece of their identity with secular values. But others, including me, were jolted in the opposite direction, shedding faith like a flaky old skin in the desert.

By my...