Team USA fencer Ibtihaj Muhammad: "I've been detained by U.S. customs and I'm an Olympic medalist"

As the first Muslim-American to medal at the Olympics, fencing star Muhammad has spent a lifetime smashing barriers

Published August 2, 2018 4:00PM (EDT)

Ibtihaj Muhammad reacts during the womens team sabre bronze medal bout part of the fencing event of the Rio 2016 Olympic Games/ (Getty/Kirill Kudryavtsev)
Ibtihaj Muhammad reacts during the womens team sabre bronze medal bout part of the fencing event of the Rio 2016 Olympic Games/ (Getty/Kirill Kudryavtsev)

Team USA Olympic fencer Ibtihaj Muhammad is a game changer. She's most known for being the first U.S. athlete to compete in the Olympics while wearing a hijab, as well as as being the first Muslim-American to medal. In the 2016 Olympics in Rio, Brazil, Muhammad helped to secure the bronze medal in the Team Sabre competition. But her story is about so much more than that individual triumph.

In the new memoir "Proud: My Fight for an Unlikely American Dream," available now, Muhammad details her journey of becoming a professional fencer as a black Muslim woman, and as someone who has spent a lifetime smashing barriers. With the support of a loving family structure and anchored by her faith, Muhammad mobilized from a suburb in New Jersey, to Duke University, to the Olympics, overcoming a million obstacles in between. At times, it was a lonely journey, as there weren't many peers or role models for Muhammad to see herself in or connect to. But that's why she works as an activist today, changing the way the world views and understands black female athletes and Muslim women.

And Muhammad's activism isn't confined to the sports world, either. She has been an outspoken critic of President Donald Trump, writing open letters to him and in general, combatting the Islamaphobia that has taken hold in America.

Watch the full interview with Olympic fencer Ibtihaj Muhammad

She reveals why acceptance from her teammates was her biggest challenge

Tell me about "Proud" and what inspired it.

Growing up, I’ve always been really into sports. When I found fencing, I feel like it awakened this drive inside of me that I didn’t know was there — that was to really challenge the misconceptions that people and society had around me, as not just an African-American woman, but also as a Muslim woman. I wanted to dispel these myths and stereotypes, but I also want to break barriers and show people what I was capable of as this young Muslim, black kid, in the sport of fencing, and little did I know, it would take me all around the world into these different places.

Also, I would say one of my biggest accomplishments today was the Olympic Games. But there is so much in that story that is untold. When we see the Olympics, we get this really brief look into the athlete’s life. I wanted to tell something that lended a lens into my journey as a minority member of Team USA and the struggles and triumphs that came along the way. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done – it's not just qualifying for the games and winning a medal, but it’s this really arduous journey in trying to navigate space as where you’re not welcomed, trying to navigate anxiety and depression, overcoming even your own self and the doubt that we each have.

At the end of this journey for me, I found an Olympic medal and I want to tell the authentic story of what happened, how I arrived at the point in my life where I decided to embark on this journey, but also why I did it even when it was so difficult.

How do you feel that now that it’s out in the world?

In writing a book, it is so therapeutic. There are a lot of tears. It was really a long process and difficult process, but I think that being able to un-package some of these moments that, for me, are just kind of blips in the radar, and not just notches on the belt. It was so hard in these moments. I remember having these times where I would have to call my mom when I was in China or FaceTime my sister from Russia. I would be really upset and be hurt or be sad or be injured or not have a great result or have this amazing result. There are so many ups and downs and peaks and valleys throughout your career, and they just then become such a norm that you forget. I think it’s one of the beautiful things about our lives is that even in the painful moments, we’re able to look past them.

It was important for me to kind of pen this memoir, because I want there to be someone who looks like me, which I didn’t have, for my younger self to, hopefully, be a source of inspiration in life for our younger generation, particularly today. I think that there’s so many different spaces where people of color aren’t welcome, religious minorities aren’t welcome. For a long time, that’s how my sport was.

It’s been such a blessing to be in this position, even though, I swear I wish I had someone like myself to look up to as a kid, and just to even be present in sport. I remember what Serena and Venus Williams did for me as a kid, to see them participate. I remember seeing, watching Hakeem Olajuwon play, but fast during Ramadan, and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, the same. I always thought that was so cool because I remember thinking fasting was the hardest thing ever. Just like, how are they playing professional basketball and doing this?

It has allowed me to see myself in spaces, even on an unconscious level, allowing myself to dream and to unconsciously graph these aspirations of greatness that I had no idea were even inside of me.

Why call it "Proud"?

"Proud" is because I’ve always been that. I’ve been challenged my entire life for being different and I’ve never wavered from being unapologetic about who I am and being proud of who I am. That’s something that no one can ever take from you. If you approach every single situation with confidence and you’re proud of who you are and you know that you’ve worked hard, that’s something that can never be taken from you, win or lose.

Can you talk about how you came to fencing, because it’s a pretty unique story?

Yes. I started participating in sports at a really young age. . . In our family — I’m one of five kids — there’s not really the option of whether or not you’ll play sports, it was more so of which sport do you want to play. I remember from a really young age, my parents putting our town recreation book in front of us, and flipping through the pages, and saying, 'Do I want to try softball or maybe I’ll try tennis?' For me, in each of these different sports, I remember going with my mom, in particular, to sporting good stores. We would have to find long-sleeved tops or spandex to go underneath the team uniform.

As a Muslim woman, I cover everything with the exception of my face and hands and even before I wore hijab as a kid, I still never wore shorts. I always was in a different kind of uniform or out of uniform from my teammates. At 12 years old, my mom and I happened to be driving past a local high school. We saw fencing from these really large picture windows. Into the school cafeteria, there were athletes who had on long white jackets, they had on long white pants. My mom was like, 'I don’t know what it is, but it fits our belief system and the way that we cover,' so she wanted me to try it out.  That fall, when I turned 13, was my first experience in the fencing gym.

READ MORE: Writing truthfully about my father: An act of resistance, an act of love

Also, what I loved, too, is how you were so forward-thinking about college and how this could be an avenue to get to it and pay for it.

Yes, I’ve always been a planner and education is really important in our household. Sports was huge, but you couldn’t play — in our family, you weren’t allowed to play, if you didn’t have A's. Sport, athletics and academics went hand in hand in our family, but academics always came first. I knew, I’ve always known, that I want to go to one of the best schools in the country. When you come from a large family with working class parents, as you know, my dad’s a retired drug detective and my mom is a retired teacher, large families have to be creative with how you plan to pay for college. I was like, 'Well, maybe I can use fencing to do it.' That was just my plan. Not a super well-thought-out plan, because I didn’t really know how I planned to get this scholarship. I didn’t know if I would be any good in fencing.  It was definitely like a rolling of the dice, but thankfully, it worked out well.

Earlier you talked about navigating, first of all, the U.S., as a black woman, as a Muslim woman. But fencing is perhaps even more extreme, as far as it being predominantly white, male, and an elite arena. How was that for you? And even the sports world more generally, the issue that black athletes often face of say, being stereotyped as strong, but not smart.

As a black athlete, you’re pigeonholed in a sense into your capabilities, but also what people expect from you. I think that you’re expected to bring athleticism to the table and you’re expected to dominate in a sense. In order to be accepted, oftentimes, as black athletes, we have to be exceptional. I feel like there’s this pressure to be great. When I think of my career in fencing, especially now, one of the top athletes in the country, one of the top fencers in the world, there…

An Olympic medalist.

Yes, Olympic medalist. There’s still the stigma that comes with being a black athlete. Within the sport of fencing, we have a lot of coaches who were from former Soviet countries, who, when the Soviet Union broke up, came to the U.S. to try the fencing clubs.  You have a lot of coaches who are from different countries in Europe who are very myopic in the way that they think about black athletes in particular. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve heard, 'Ibti, you’re strong. Go out there and be strong.' It’s just like this idea that I can’t think tactically as an athlete, that all I bring to the table is strength.

What’s interesting about fencing is that our sport is literally physical chess. You are trying to, in every sense of the word, outsmart your opponent. It’s about being a few steps ahead, tricking people into thinking that you’re doing one thing, but really you’re having another plan up your sleeve. To be told over and over that all you are is strong, you can’t think tactically, you’re not capable of that, I think is a form of harassment in a way. It’s meant to even confine you in a way that you perceive yourself and your capabilities.

I had the great opportunity of having these profound black Olympians, black Olympic medalists who were able to help me navigate qualifying for the Olympic team. I think one of the challenges in being one of the first in your sport is knowing like 'how do I do this, what do I do?' My first international competition was at 23. My teammates on the national team were competing internationally at 13, 14 years old. I’m trying to compete on the same level, because we’re the same age, but without the experience.

Another theme in "Proud" was addressing the misinformation and dehumanization of Muslims in the U.S., something that you've also experienced. There was that story about after graduating from Duke and while interviewing in the corporate world, the HR interviewer questioning if your "lifestyle," whatever that means, will interfere with your work. Just clear discrimination. One thing that I found really profound is, while you were always interested — whether it was with Team USA, or in any space — in being friendly, and outgoing, and sociable, you weren’t interested in explaining your humanity, which is the burden so often placed on marginalized people.

It’s really difficult position to be put in and to try to figure out how to navigate making other people comfortable with you being labeled as 'different,' as like you said, the athlete of color or the athlete whose faith may be different. For a really long time, I think that I was trying to go out of my way, which I feel like a lot of people do. You go out of your way to try to make other people comfortable.

It’s hard work. Imagine having to do that all the time, beyond all the time to make sure you’re not hurting anyone’s feelings, stepping on anyone’s toes, making sure they’re okay with you existing as you are, and then having to compete and train just like everyone else. I feel like it’s really tasking. Emotionally, mentally, physically, it’s hard.

At some point, thank God, I arrived at this point in my life where I was just done. I didn’t have the energy anymore to keep expending and trying to make the people around me comfortable. I realized that that shouldn’t be my burden. That’s not my job to make you in some way feel comfortable with me.

In the book, you talked about a shift after 9/11, as far as the treatment of Muslims in the U.S. How has that changed or multiplied since Donald Trump became president?

I find that what we’re experiencing now as Muslims in the United States is far harder than what it was after 9/11. That’s something that I can say, like I was a millennial, I can only speak to my own experiences. I’ve been followed. I’ve been detained by U.S. customs, and I’m an Olympic medalist.

These are experiences that a lot of us have. I think that, as someone who is being gifted with a platform as an athlete, I have to use it in order to change where we are in society. I don’t think I should have to fear, existing as I am, wanting to express myself through my faith in covering and wearing hijab, but also existing as a black person like, I shouldn’t have to fear calling the police for help, or walking down the street in existing as you are. That’s problematic. I think that not just athletes, not just athletes with really large platforms, but each of us, as individuals, needs to do what we can, speak on these social issues, so that we see change.


By Rachel Leah

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