What do young Scottish Muslims aspire to? What opportunities do they have and what restrictions do they face? These were some of the questions that young people were trying to address yesterday at a significant conference that aimed to put young Muslims firmly on Scotland's cultural map.
Not surprisingly, many of the teenagers and young adults who attended the Young Scottish Muslims: Looking Forward conference in Glasgow yesterday cited some of the stresses that you might expect any young Scot to confront: conflicting pressures from peers, parents and authority figures, and the struggle to find a coherent adult identity. But Muslims also face a meeting of different cultures that makes their experience different.
For Majid Bashir, 19, calling himself a "Scottish Muslim" seems straightforward. His parents emigrated from Pakistan 25 years ago and he was born in Glasgow, along with two older brothers and two younger sisters. But he is unsure whether other people would apply the same label.
"I would rather say I was Scottish Muslim than Pakistani. I was born here," he says.
He believes the Scottish experience of integration has been a positive one. "I think Scotland has integrated well. The schools have helped a lot, they have a prayer room and they know that you have to pray five times a day. At the school I went to, you had to prove you're a Muslim, though. You do get people saying they're Muslim to get off classes just because of the colour of their skin."
He says he hasn't been the victim of racism, though since the September 11 terrorist attacks, going through airports can be a problem. "It's always airports where I have an issue. When I got to London I felt as if people were staring at me," he says. "I feel most comfortable in Scotland. In Scotland you can walk through any area, even a really dodgy area, but I wouldn't be worried that I will be jumped or get a doing."
Majid is now studying travel and tourism at Glasgow Metropolitan College. But while he says he has not been subjected to racism, he admits that mixing with groups of white people has not always been easy. "I had Muslim and non-Muslim friends at primary school but when I went to secondary school, most of my friends were Muslim," he says.
The sticking point has been alcohol. Though Majid is not completely devout, he takes his religion seriously, especially after going on a pilgrimage to Mecca last year - and, of course, he does not drink.
When he was 16, he went out with a group of his white friends but was the only one not drinking. "I felt really left out. Everyone was drinking, and I felt like, What am I doing here?' I still do see them but now it's a hi and a bye. If I see one of my Muslim friends I would hang out with them more."
Sabah Aslam, 17, is one of a group of schoolgirls from Motherwell who have chosen to wear the hijab, or head scarf, but she says that she and her friends have not faced any discrimination from other pupils at the Roman Catholic school she attends, Taylor High. "No-one would look twice. I reached an age where I wanted to wear one. My mother wears a hijab and my friends were wearing them and encouraging me to put one on. I didn't want to do it at first but felt I would wear one when the time was right."
"You can't completely be from one culture or background; it can be a very difficult clash," says Faizah Shaheen. The 18-year-old's parents were born in Pakistan and were, for a while, the only Asian family in Uddingston, in Lanarkshire, where she grew up. "Because of that we were noticed more. We faced a lot of racial discrimination. People used to make fun of my background, of my beliefs." Things got easier in 1999, when the family moved to Glasgow, where there were more people with a similar ethnic background.
Now Faizah is waiting to start an arts degree at Strathclyde University in September and hopes to become a community artist. She believes her generation has more opportunities than her parents' generation, but is also acutely aware of the cultural differences that have opened up between them.
"The most difficult part is the restrictions that Muslim parents place on you," she says. "There are so many things you can't do, especially for girls. Parents are so over-protective, so there are limited opportunities. For example, my brother would be able to go out if he wanted to. My parents won't let me do that. They only let me go to places they know, where they know everyone who will be there, and their background."
Despite the restrictions, Faizah feels positive about the values passed on by her parents and feels that Scottish culture could benefit from them.
"There are advantages. I am glad I have had a religious upbringing that prevents you from doing some stupid things. A lot of problems arise because parents aren't teaching religion, especially things like drinking and teenage pregnancy."
The teenager has friends from different backgrounds and believes this is the way forward for Scottish Muslims. "There should be a community mix. That is what we're looking for in this country. It would make us more socially aware of other cultures and we wouldn't be as ignorant."
When Nosheen Siddique, 16, was younger, her parents taught her about Christmas, Easter, Eid and Ramadan. "I have been taught Scottish culture and Muslim culture," she says. She thanks her parents for being able to balance the two. "Some Muslims, when they come here, they completely forget about their own culture. Our parents haven't done that. But they also taught us how to fit into the Scottish environment as well so we don't single ourselves out." However, she says that her friends, family and imams (Muslim religious leaders) have helped persuade her to wear the hijab. "They taught us the benefit of wearing it, not to be ashamed of our religion but to be proud of it."
At school, she does not have a problem fitting in. But it is a different matter on the streets, where Nosheen says she is likely to encounter abuse for being Muslim. "The terrorist bombings are not the fault of the entire Muslim community," she says. Asim Rabbani, aged 18, has finished the first year of a law degree at Glasgow Caledonian University. He has done work experience with Amar Anwar, the lawyer, political campaigner and one of Scotland's most high-profile Muslims, who he says influenced his career choice. "Listening to his story of how he became a lawyer it was through protest, he wasn't happy with the system. Plus my dad always wanted me to be a lawyer," Asim says.
"My dad was born in Scotland and, although he has the same moral and ethical values, he is culturally more attuned to western society. As you go down the generations you will get people who are more westernised. But I hope if I have children they will also inherit some of that cultural background."
Asim praises the family values that he has learned from his parents. But there are downsides, too: "I wouldn't say there are negatives, but there is more social pressure on kids to make life decisions based on their family's wishes rather than their own."
Asim's father, Irfan Rabbani, is a Labour councillor in Glasgow, and the teenager believes that getting more political representatives from the Muslim community will increase its profile in Scottish society. He also believes the media has a role. "The general public gets all its perceptions of Muslims through the media," he says.
"Any negative images are down to the media. Within any group you get narrow-minded, shallow people. You can't blame the public, that's what they're fed. If people make the effort to get to know Muslims, they will understand that they're normal people.
"The media portrays that Islam teaches us to be suicide bombers, but that is so far from the truth. It teaches peace, forgiveness - it's the complete opposite. Rather than just show the problems, the media should show both sides." You can be both: it's not a question of either-or'
Sumaiyah Patel, 16, is a pupil at a Roman Catholic school, Taylor High, in North Lanarkshire. She says that the mix of cultures she has experienced while growing up has been a positive and exciting challenge. "There are a lot of different cultures in Scotland and living around different kinds of people makes you get to know different cultures," she says.
Hala Ousta, 18, was born in Glasgow to Syrian parents and has felt the pull of both their culture and the Scottish one in which she lives.
"I feel I'm Scottish," she says. "Most people in the Muslim community say I'm Muslim', but don't make a distinction between their faith and their nationality. You can be a Scottish Muslim; it's not either-or. I've always tried to engage with people and not put barriers between myself and people from different backgrounds."
Hala is proud that most of her friends are non-Muslim - "it's a good mix" - but says this has not compromised her beliefs. "The thing is, most social occasions are centred on alcohol. But if you don't want to drink, no-one is going to force you to. They understand where you are coming from and respect that. Because they know I don't drink, instead of going out clubbing, we will go to the cinema or something else, so I'm not left out."
