by Francesca Morosi

Created on: November 07, 2008

OVERCOMING RACISM AND PREJUDICES - A PERSONAL ACCOUNT

"Oh c'mon, this looks like another of your hopeless romances! We all know how Muslim men treat their women. You just wait and see: in about a year from now he'll stop all the nice bits and start womanizing you". This is how my sister firstly retaliated to my thrilled talking about my new love story with Iqbal. My best friend started to tease me about wearing the black suite with veil over my face typical of Taliban women: "Hey Francesca, we might see you on a different fashion wear next time you visit us". My brother in law is still warning me: my new beloved boyfriend will try to convert me to Islam.

But this is not surprising after all. How did I expect anybody born and bread in such an unadulterated Italian and ultra-catholic background to appreciate the concept of diversity?
I felt frustrated and distant, loosing any enthusiasm in wanting to open the news to my parents, knowing that I would obtain exactly the same reaction, if not something worse!

They already knew Iqbal and I were friends: during my previous visit to Rome, about six months before, I had the chance to comment on how this new friend met at the university was an absolute bliss for my studies: he used to proof-read all my assignments, help me with house chores and pick up my little one from nursery in case I could not. On that occasion, they immediately expressed concern about how safe would be their little grandson- my three years old son, Guido - in his company. "It is not unusual to read stories of kids being kidnapped by these people; you ought to be extra careful"- my mum surprised me with her wicked fantasy. I did not know whether to laugh or cry, but then I realized that most of my family and friends in Rome believed in these stories and fears of a negative power of this "Muslim man" on me and Guido were very real on their part.

One year down the line and I visit Rome and my family again. They can see me as a very content person. I am not wearing any veil yet, Iqbal is still cleaning around the house and assisting me in everything I do and -more striking than anything else-my little Guido is the happiest and brightest kid in the bunch.

"So, is this thing working well between you too?" my sister realized it was a silly question to ask just looking at my smile. Exactly what I thought from the start: I could spend hours arguing with them about their awful comments and they would never admit that there is something wrong with their attitude.

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