My journey to civic engagement began long before I ever joined Georgia Muslim Voter Project.
I immigrated to the United States in the early 2000s. As I raised my children here, I often asked myself an important question: How can I make my home, America, a safe and inclusive place for them and for generations to come?
As I connected with my Pakistani Muslim community, I noticed something early on—many of us were unaware, or more accurately, uninformed about our rights as Americans. Conversations about civic life or voting were rare, and the electoral process often felt confusing or out of reach. Yet I knew our voices deserved to be heard, especially if we wanted to shape a country that not only welcomes us but also protects, uplifts, and hears us.
When I became involved with Georgia Muslim Voter Project in May 2021, I found a space where faith, justice, and civic duty came together.
I felt inspired and empowered seeing other motivated Muslims committed to grassroots organizing. This work allowed me to contribute my skills in translating, communicating, and building meaningful connections. These things not only came naturally to me as a mother, but also allowed me to bridge gaps in understanding for others. Sometimes it’s as simple as explaining a voter registration form in Urdu to an elder, or guiding a first-time voter on what to expect at the polls. Other times, it’s about listening, truly listening, to the worries and questions that community members carry when it comes to participating in democracy. Each time I connect with someone and ease their uncertainties, I’m reminded how this work is about more than ballots and forms; it’s about building a sense of belonging.
As Muslims, our faith calls us to pursue justice and to serve others. For me, civic engagement is my way to live out those values and to reflect on the meaning of ‘home.’. Voting is not just a civic duty—it is a way to make sure the policies shaping our communities reflect compassion, fairness, and dignity. It is one way to ensure my children, and all children, can grow up in an America that truly feels like home: safe, welcoming, and inclusive.
Of course, this work is not without challenges. I’ve spoken with people who feel their voices don’t matter, or who have been discouraged by the barriers they face in the system. Those conversations weigh heavily, but they also strengthen my resolve. Every person who doubts the power of their voice is a reminder of why we must keep showing up, why we cannot let silence or discouragement take root.
In trying times, there are always moments of great hope. I’ve seen young Muslims light up as they register to vote for the first time. I’ve seen elders determined to learn more about early voting so they can make their voices heard. I’ve seen families come together, making sure every member is ready to participate on Election Day. These are the moments that remind me of the strength in our communities, and of the future we can shape when we stand together.
As I look forward, my hope is that more Muslims not only take part in civic life but see themselves as leaders for change. Our voices are vital to strengthening democracy, and our faith and resilience equip us to contribute to a society that values justice, compassion, and inclusion.
Sincerely,
Farwa