Do you take delight in watching films, listening to pop music, or reading books? For English learners, movies, songs, and books are one of the most wonderful sources to explore the language! You can indulge in your favorite pastime and still learn some expressions, words of wisdom, and oftentimes good lessons while you’re at it.
#104. Nomad (authored by Ayaan Hirsi Ali)
It is the
powerful story of Ayaan Hirsi Ali, a courageous African woman born into Islam
whose journey became a testament to freedom, tolerance, multiculturalism, and
the possibility of redemption. Her physical and emotional journey traces a
dramatic transformation—from a tribal culture that restricted women’s thoughts
and choices to life as a free and equal citizen in an open society.
“For a
long time I teetered between the clear ideals of the Enlightenment that I
learned about at university and my submission to the equally clear dictates of
Allah that I feared to disobey. I never connected the dots – in fact I sought
to avoid connecting the dots – so I could not see the connection between their belief
in Islam and their poverty, between their religion and the oppression of women
and the lack of free, individual choice.”
ð The
author reflects on the painful intellectual journey that led her to question
the conservative Islamic beliefs of her upbringing. Caught between the ideals
of the Enlightenment— e.g., reason, individual liberty, and free choice—and
religious submission rooted in obedience and fear of God, she struggled to
reconcile two conflicting worldviews. For years, she avoided “connecting the
dots,” unwilling to confront the possibility that some religious traditions
could contribute to real-world problems such as poverty, the oppression of
women, and the restriction of individual freedom. Ultimately, journey reveals
the difficult but transformative moment when a person stops avoiding
uncomfortable questions and confronts the consequences of deeply held beliefs.
“There were
many misunderstandings, expectations, and disappointments along the way, and I
learned many lessons. I learned that it is one thing I say farewell to tribal
life; it is quite another to practice the life of a citizen, which so many
members of my family have failed to do. And they are by no means alone.”
ð Ayaan
Hirsi Ali reflects on her difficult journey from a world shaped by kinship,
tradition, and collective identity to one built on individual freedom and
personal responsibility. Leaving behind a tribal or nomadic past may seem like
crossing a physical border, but learning to live as an independent citizen in a
modern Western society can be a far more difficult journey.
For the author, saying goodbye to the past was not the same as escaping its influence. The expectations of family, clan, and tradition often continue to follow immigrants long after they arrive in a new country. A life once guided by dependency and collective loyalty must suddenly make room for independence, self-reliance, and the rule of law. Along the way come misunderstandings, disappointments, and the painful shock of discovering that changing one's surroundings does not automatically change one's way of thinking.
“Our two worlds, Sahra’s and mine,
coexist in the same city streets, but one is framed above all by the oppression
of individuals, especially women, and the other glorifies individuality. Can those
two sets of values ever be reconciled within Sahra, between her and her
daughter, or on the streets of European cities? Will she ever understand that
home is where she is, instead of an imagined past in Somalia that is no longer
even a whole country, riven as it is by war? For how long will Western
societies, whose roots drink from the rational sources of the Enlightenment,
continue to tolerate the spread of Sahra’s way of life, like ivy on their
trunks, an alien and possibly lethal growth?”
ð Seeing
another Somali female immigrant named Sahra in the Western society, the author
explores a profound collision between two worlds: one shaped by tradition, clan
loyalty, and religious authority, and the other by individual freedom, liberal
democracy, and Enlightenment ideals. Through her encounter with Sahra, Ayaan
Hirsi Ali asks a haunting question: Can these deeply different visions of life
truly coexist without one eventually transforming—or overwhelming—the other?
At the heart of the conflict lies the meaning of the individual. Sahra's world, as Ali portrays it, is shaped by collective expectations and traditions that can restrict personal freedom, while Western society places the individual at the center, celebrating independence, choice, and self-determination. Sahra's struggle is also the struggle of an immigrant caught between two homes. She clings to an imagined Somalia of memory and longing, unable—or unwilling—to accept that home may no longer be a place left behind, but the unfamiliar ground beneath her feet.
Ali then widens the lens beyond one woman's life to the future of Europe itself. Can these opposing values be reconciled between generations, between Sahra and her daughter, or in the streets and communities of a changing continent? Her metaphor of ivy climbing a Western tree leaves a particularly unsettling image in our mind. She warns that a way of life fundamentally at odds with individual liberty could slowly take root within liberal societies and, if left unquestioned, eventually weaken the very Enlightenment ideals that sustain them.
** Jean’s Small Thoughts:
Living as an
immigrant often feels like standing somewhere between two worlds. At times,
having two cultures enriches our lives, widening the horizon of our thoughts
and experiences. Yet, just as often, those dual identities can make us pause in
confusion before the invisible walls created by deeply rooted cultural
differences.
While reading
Nomad, I found myself thinking about my own life and many of my relatives who
have lived in the United States for generations. Have we quietly reached the
point of seamless assimilation into this new world? Or are we still drawn
toward the culture and memories of our roots while trying to live as
responsible citizens here and now?
In Nomad, the
family's experience feels like part of a much larger human journey. Many
immigrants discover that crossing a border is only the beginning. True
integration requires an internal transformation—a willingness to examine deeply
rooted assumptions while finding a delicate balance between one's cultural past
and the responsibilities of individual citizenship. Transformation is rarely as
simple as stepping into a new world. Sometimes the longest journey is not the
one across an ocean or a border, but the quiet and difficult journey within
ourselves.
Like the
question Ayaan Hirsi Ali raises, I have often asked myself: When two
civilizations meet, can they grow side by side, or will one quietly reshape the
other? I am still waiting to see how history will answer that question. But one
thing I know for certain is that my Korean identity has always held its place
within me—whether I was living in a liberal city in California, a small
Midwestern town in Illinois, or now in the conservative landscape of Texas. My
surroundings have changed, but my roots have traveled with me.
The author
also writes with tenderness about her grandmother, who lovingly helped raise
her and her sister. Yet her affection is complicated. In her grandmother, Ali
sees what she believes is one of the forces that keeps traditional tribal
communities tied to the past. It frustrates her to watch her grandmother devote
so much of her emotional life to memories of what she once knew rather than
imagining what might still be possible.
Still, love does not disappear simply because we reject parts of the world that shaped us. Ali fiercely opposes the brutal practice of female genital mutilation, yet she can still remember her grandmother's care and warmth with tenderness. That emotional contradiction feels deeply human: we may reject the values or traditions of our past while continuing to love the people who carried those traditions into our lives.
Just as Ali,
I hope that immigrants who have left behind cultures or experiences they could
no longer accept may eventually find a window through which they can release
the painful memories of the past. And perhaps, without forgetting where they
came from, they can open themselves to the fresh air of the life unfolding
before them—the life they are breathing, living, and shaping today.
No comments:
Post a Comment