Welcome to Read and Resist, a blog series where I review books that amplify marginalized voices and address social justice issues. This includes fiction and non-fiction books (especially #OwnVoices), so if you have any suggestions, please let me know!
Warning: this review contains spoilers.
Young adult fiction has always been my favorite. Not only does the genre speak to teens who often feel desperately alone and misunderstood, but YA inspires and empowers readers in a way that we rarely see. As a woman in my twenties, I immediately think of Harry Potter and The Hunger Games when it comes to YA literature about resistance–but it doesn’t look like this trend is stopping anytime soon. This is the third young adult novel in my Read and Resist series, all of which have been published within the past year. I’m open to other genres, of course–it’s just that YA has been on point lately.
My most recent YA read is Love, Hate & Other Filters by Samira Ahmed. The book’s summary cited two writers I love, and introduced classic YA romance and resistance:
A searing #OwnVoices coming-of-age debut in which an Indian-American Muslim teen confronts Islamophobia and a reality she can neither explain nor escape–perfect for fans of Angie Thomas, Jacqueline Woodson, and Adam Silvera.
American-born seventeen-year-old Maya Aziz is torn between worlds. There’s the proper one her parents expect for their good Indian daughter: attending a college close to their suburban Chicago home, and being paired off with an older Muslim boy her mom deems “suitable.” And then there is the world of her dreams: going to film school and living in New York City—and maybe (just maybe) pursuing a boy she’s known from afar since grade school, a boy who’s finally falling into her orbit at school.
There’s also the real world, beyond Maya’s control. In the aftermath of a horrific crime perpetrated hundreds of miles away, her life is turned upside down. The community she’s known since birth becomes unrecognizable; neighbors and classmates alike are consumed with fear, bigotry, and hatred. Ultimately, Maya must find the strength within to determine where she truly belongs.
Love, Hate & Other Filters is told from Maya’s perspective, and I immediately fell in love with her. She is intelligent and creative; yet, the author does not make her into a heroine who claims she “isn’t like other girls.” She is unapologetically her teenage girl self–full of dreams and pining after a popular boy and texting with emojis–and it is so refreshing to read. We need to remember that there is no shame in acting like a teenage girl when you are, in fact, a teenage girl.
Maya also feels torn between following her dream or pleasing her parents. She wants to attend college in New York to study film, but her parents want her to stay in Chicago and eventually marry a nice Muslim Indian boy. While Maya isn’t particularly devout, her parents are, and she often finds herself playing two different roles–especially as she starts gets closer to her crush, Phil, who is not Indian or Muslim.
However, these conflicts are merely backdrops to the book’s poignant commentary on terrorism and Islamophobia. After her city experiences a terror attack, her instinctive reaction is to hope that that the attacker isn’t Muslim. She fears another Muslim ban, and she recalls her parents’s stories of 9/11. Her thoughts are honest, and made me consider how many Muslim Americans live on a daily basis.
“It’s selfish and horrible, but in this terrible moment, all I want is to be a plain old American teenager. Who can simply mourn without fear. Who doesn’t share last names with a suicide bomber. Who goes to dances and can talk to her parents about anything and can walk around without always being anxious. And who isn’t a presumed terrorist first and an American second.”
-Love, Hate & Other Filters
When it is revealed that the alleged terrorist shares the same last name as Maya’s family–Aziz–they endure sudden hatred from the place they have always called home. Maya is physically harmed on a school field trip; her parents are threatened and their dental practice is attacked, even though they are not related to the terrorist.
Later on, we learn that the terrorist is not Mr. Aziz, but a white, American man. It’s a clear message to all of us that we cannot make judgements for an entire community and religion we only pretend to know. I often hear people claim that the Qur’an includes violent passages, which proves that Islam is a violent religion. But the Bible has its fair share of disturbing passages, too, and yet the American government is determined to uphold “Christian values.” As Maya’s parents explain, “These terrorists are the antithesis of Islam. They’re not Muslim. Violence has no place in religion, and the terrorists are responsible for their own crimes, not the religion and not us.”
While I loved how this book confronted such a timely issue, much of Maya’s personal story felt incomplete. For instance, I understand why Maya and Phil did not end up together, but I wish that the book hadn’t jumped from their prom night to New York. Phil and Maya were absolutely adorable, and I was yearning for some sort of closure. I felt the same way about her parents–they have an extremely painful argument about college, and I was expecting to see an equally dramatic reconciliation. In the end, I gave the book 3/5 stars.
This world desperately need voices like Samira Ahmed’s and characters like Maya–but we need to be open to receive them. May we always remember that love overcomes hate. ❤
