Amidst the chaos of boxes, crates, and personalized luggage of freshman orientation days, my parents hugged me goodbye on the steps of Farnam Hall. With tears in their eyes, they let go of their first daughter. My father's parting words were, "Fisabilillah, my dear, we leave you fisabilillah." The Arabic word fisabilillah is difficult to translate, but it roughly means "in the way of God," or "on the path of God," and it truly encompassed the vast array of hopes and fears that both my parents and I held.

We were all excited about my coming to Yale, with its many opportunities and challenges. Yet, at the same time, we were worried about all of the life changes that would accompany those opportunities and challenges. In particular, we were worried about my religious life here at Yale.

As an observant Muslim, I was apprehensive about how my religious activities would be affected, to what extent I would be able to practice my beliefs freely, and how my peers would react to my religious practices. As my parents left me with my bags and my concerns, they knew they could not answer my questions or allay my fears. What they could do was put their trust in God and pray that, whatever the situation, I would find the strength to adjust without compromising my faith.

It has been almost three months since that first day of college, and in that time, to my parents' and my relief, I have managed to adjust. On a personal level, practicing my religion at Yale is not very difficult. I have been able to pray the five daily prayers and to recite the Qur'an in my room without much distraction, thanks to my understanding roommates.

The fire door of our common room connects our suite to a suite of six men, and I was initially concerned about modesty and unwanted intermingling. I wear the hijab, the Islamic headcovering or scarf, which must be worn in front of all men except one's husband and male family members. Since our fire door cannot be locked, there is essentially free access to our common room, meaning that I could never take my scarf off except in my single room.

However, after explaining my religious beliefs and regulations to everyone on my floor, I was met with understanding and courtesy, and the men next door now knock before they enter. I still have to be careful, but the inconvenience is minor in light of all the adjustments that accompany dorm life. My professors are also very understanding and allow for such things as tardiness due to Friday services. As a result, I feel that I can comfortably practice Islam on an individual level here at Yale.

Islam, however, is more than a personal conviction or a ritual that can be left to the sheltered privacy of home. It is a way of life and affects every aspect of a Muslim's behavior. While Christian students have several churches either on or near campus that they can attend, and Jewish students have Slifka Center for Jewish Life, for Muslims, the nearest mosque is not a convenient distance from campus. As a result, it is difficult for a Muslim student to find a community of other Muslims with whom to worship, bond, and grow Islamically. A sense of community, or "ummah," is fundamental to the Islamic way of life.

The Yale Muslim Students Association (MSA) helps fill this void and does reasonably well, considering that it is student-run and has limited resources. The MSA provides a small sense of Islamic community by offering evening prayers in the University's interdenominational chapel, Friday services, and weekly dinner discussions. However, this is by no means enough.

The Islamic community would greatly benefit if some kind of permanent room existed for religious and organizational functions. This could be a place where any Muslim student could go and pray any of the five daily prayers, a place where he or she could find a vast source of literature about Islam, and a place where the MSA could organize campus events and religious activities. Without such a room dedicated to the needs of an Islamic community, it is certainly hard for the MSA to provide adequately for the spiritual and communal needs of Muslims on campus.

If the goal of a permanent room is ever realized, hopefully the fears and apprehensions that I experienced as an incoming freshman will not be repeated for Muslim students who will come here after me. They will more easily be able to combine the personal practice of Islam with the inseparable communal activity that characterizes the Islamic way of life.

Syeeda Amin, JE'01, is a member of the Muslim Student Association.