Confronting misconceptions as a Muslim in America

With the recent terror attack in San Bernardino, California, and anti-Muslim rhetoric in the American political arena, Muslims in the U.S. are encountering heightened scrutiny and some backlash. In light of this, "CBS This Morning" asked Muslims across the country to share their thoughts on some of the biggest misconceptions they say Americans have about their faith.

Rebecca Lee, Jean Song, Gisela Perez, Kevin Prince, Luis Giraldo and Abby Collier contributed to this report.

For more from our reporting, follow along with #MusliminAmerica on Facebook and Instagram.

Rep. André Carson

As the second Muslim elected to Congress, Rep. André Carson, who serves on the House Intelligence Committee, has received threats and "nasty comments" throughout his tenure.

"But I think for the most part, those attacks have fed into a larger narrative that Muslims are some kind of 'other,' when in fact, Muslims have been part of our country since the inception of this country," the 41-year-old congressman said. "And Muslims are a critical part of the fabric of our society, as engineers, as physicians, as lawyers, as police officers for folks who work in our intelligence community, and I think that growing narrative that Muslims are somehow some other group, outside of the fabric of our society, is very disappointing."

With the recent terror attack in San Bernardino, California, and Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump proposing a ban for Muslims entering the U.S., Carson said the anti-Muslim rhetoric is stirring the pot of some Americans' anxiety about the changing face of America in an "unhealthy way."

"It troubles me, as one who is proudly Muslim, who serves in Congress, and who knows that the founding fathers, as imperfect as they were, imperfect as we all are -- when they established the Bill of Rights, they were very serious about not having to favor one particular religion or faith system," Carson said. "So anyone who's seeking the highest office of the land must understand that he or she will be leading millions of people of different faiths, different ethnicity and different schools of thought."

Carson said one of the biggest misconceptions about Muslims is that they are an "exotic group" who don't belong in the country's system.

"I am a Muslim, but I'm also an American," Carson said. "I'm a proud Hoosier. I'm from Indiana. I love to dance, I love to read. I love to travel. I'm just a human being who happens to be a Muslim."

Ibtihaj Muhammad

Ibtihaj Muhammad grew up playing a wide range of sports, including tennis, volleyball, swimming and track -- but she struggled to find one that suited her.

"In each of those sports as a Muslim, I often had to change the uniform by wearing long pants where my teammates wore shorts or if my teammates wore short sleeves you know, long sleeves," the 28-year-old recalled.

Then her mom discovered fencing, driving by high school athletes covered in their masks, long tops and pants.

"She wasn't familiar with the sport, but she knew she wanted me to try it," Muhammad said.

Since she began fencing at age 12, Muhammad set her eyes on playing for Team USA because of the lack of diversity in the national team.

"There were barely any people who looked like me, and when I think of America and what it stands for, to me, it kind of combated that notion of us being a super diverse society," she said.

Now, the 30-year-old is training for the 2016 Olympic Games in Rio de Janeiro, where she would break history as the first Muslim-American woman ever to compete at the Olympic Games in a hijab. She has also created a company, Louella, with her sister, which designs women's clothing that adheres to her religious faith.

But the anti-Muslim sentiments and scrutiny following recent attacks of terror are concerning, even for the top-notch athlete. She expressed her fears while traveling for the first time since the Paris attacks.

"I could feel people staring at me, and it's scary because you don't know who may want to take your hijab off or injure you in some way," Muhammad said. "And as a confident person, I would never think of myself in that space of fearing the actions of others ... but in this really cloudy type of political environment and space that we're in right now, I am fearful for myself as a Muslim woman just walking the streets of New York City every day. "

Despite the hateful comments, Muhammad said she refuses to let them stand in the way of her identity, both as a Muslim and a proud American athlete.

"I wish that I had that growing up as a kid. I hope that other minorities -- other Muslim youth, other African-American youth -- can say that they're not going to allow other people's misconceptions about who they are, about their race, about their gender, about their ethnicity hinder them from reaching their goals," Muhammad said.

​Hishaam Siddiqui

When Los Angeles native Hishaam Siddiqui first heard about the San Bernardino massacre, he was afraid, especially because of its proximity to his home and work.

"My initial reaction was, 'Oh my gosh, not another shooting here in the United States,' and then immediately my second fear was, 'Please do not let this person be Muslim,'" Siddiqui said. "Because I feel like as Muslims we all get lumped up and we face the backlash of these attacks, and it just creates more paranoia and fear for the community."

The paranoia is evident in his Pakistani family, the 24-year-old said. Since the attacks, the Siddiqui family worries they might be the next victims of a hate crime.

"In my family particularly, my mom had everyone download this app that keeps track of where your family members are at all times. She is worried when we go out late at night. She insists that we come home sooner than later," he said.

Siddiqui said his Muslim family feels the need to be cognizant of how they are presenting themselves in American society and that adds a layer of stress to life.

"If we as Muslim-Americans can't go to mosques without fear of them being firebombed or if a Muslim woman wearing hijab can't walk around without fear of being attacked or shot at, then we don't really have religious freedom in this country. And as an American Muslim, I was always told that freedom of religion is one of the founding principles of this country, and if we don't have that then we're failing as Americans," Siddiqui said.

​Dr. Hussein Matari

Hussein Matari immigrated to the United States alone from the Palestinian territories when he was 18 years old with just $6.50 in his pocket.

"When I first came here, I spoke a few words of English such as 'water,' 'food' and small basic things. I could not articulate a conversation with anybody, I did not know how to drive a car, and unfortunately I did not even know how to flush a toilet," said the 61-year-old.

After just about every imaginable job -- dish washer, security guard, salesperson and more -- and decades, he finally fulfilled his passion for medicine and has been in the field for nearly 30 years.

"I came to explore the opportunity which I did not have as a Palestinian," Matari said. "I thought this country would give me better opportunity, and thank God to what they did."

Matari's values of love and humanity, taught by his faith and family upbringing, inspired him to become a physician.

"I believe for us in health care, God gave us this opportunity to take care of the most valuable thing in life -- it is life itself. And when I do a procedure, when I puncture an artery or a vein, the blood is all the same," Matari said. "I don't look at the person as a Muslim or a Chinese or a Jewish or etc. I look at them as a human being ... and I treat a patient as a patient, I treat a co-worker as a co-worker. I treat them with respect, I treat them with dignity, and I demand the same from them."

Matari wants to tell GOP candidate Donald Trump that his anti-Islamic remarks and proposal to temporarily ban Muslims from entering the United States is wrong.

"This country here is a country of immigrants. People come from all over the world," he said. "If you're not the first-born, maybe your parents came from parts of the world, your grandparents come from different parts of the world, and they probably faced the same stigma and the same problem that the Muslims are facing right now."

​Sandra Wellington

When Sandra Wellington converted to Islam, she left behind her old wardrobe but not her fashion sense.

Then a research assistant at a laboratory at Columbia University, she could not afford the beautiful, high-quality clothing she yearned for. So she decided to make her own.

"A lot of people -- Muslim and non-Muslims -- saw what I was wearing, and they were attracted to my clothing. And they asked me to start making clothing for them, and then that blossomed into Urban Hijab," Wellington said.

That was possible, Wellington said, due to her use of bright, colorful fabric and prints, different from what she said "people were accustomed to seeing with Muslim women fashion."

But Wellington describes the "Urban Hijab woman" as an independent woman who is "no different than you and I."

"When I'm designing, I'm really thinking about how a Muslim woman can cover herself, maintain her modesty, maintain her professionalism ... feel confident about it, look good about it and interact as though she was any regular member of society."

Wellington also hopes her brand will also be a vehicle to "break the mold" of other misconceptions that are unique to Muslim women.

"All my life living here in the United States, I've experienced more racism as a Muslim woman than I have as a black woman living in New York City," she said. "I think some of it comes from people who ... assume that we are oppressed, and the bully inside of a person comes out when to seeing a woman wearing a headscarf ... From what I understand, Muslim men really don't suffer harassment to the degree that Muslim women who wear a hijab suffer."

Wellington challenges those who hold misconceptions about her identity and religion to read and learn more about Islam.

"Ignorance is your own fault. In the age of information, there is absolutely no reason for anyone to be ignorant about Islam except by choice," Wellington said.

Kamal Shalorus

Mixed martial arts fighter Kamal Sharolus moved to the U.S. in 2007 after a wrestling career in Britain.

For the 40-year-old, being Muslim means showing kindness and being a positive citizen.

"Love everyone. Respect everyone. That's the meaning of Muslim," Shalorus said.

Since he's lived in the U.S., he said he has noticed people's attitude changing toward him, particularly with the rise of radical terrorists.

"They see this radical people, they do horrible things -- of course their reaction [is] going to be changed because they [are] scared. They fear what's going on," Sharolus said.

While he understands people are afraid, he stressed that Muslims are historically law-abiding people who work hard and help their communities.

"People have to realize these radical people are not Muslims," Shalorus said.

Arsalan Iftikhar

Arsalan Iftikhar, also known as "The Muslim Guy," thinks the next civil rights battle in America will be for Muslims.

"We've seen Japanese-Americans placed in internment camps during World War II, obviously the African-American civil rights struggle, which continues until today, anti-Semitic, anti-Catholic sentiments in the earlier parts of the 20th century. So Islamophobia is the sort of that next chapter in the civil rights history of the United States in my opinion," Iftikhar said.

When it comes to Islamophobia, the 38-year-old human rights lawyer and senior editor of The Islamic Monthly said Republican presidential front-runner Donald Trump is "fanning the flames" with his anti-Muslim rhetoric.

"I think Donald Trump's proposal to ban Muslims from the United States is about as un-American as you get," Iftikhar said. "I think that if you can replace the word 'Muslims' with 'Jews' and sound like a Nazi, you probably shouldn't say it."

For Iftikhar, being a Muslim means following the Golden Rule, "do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

Despite the numerous death threats he's received throughout his career, Iftikhar said he doesn't feel like his safety is in jeopardy.

"I'm very proud of my country, I'm very proud of my religion, and those are two things that I'm very proud of and that I will never compromise," Iftikhar said.

Mariam Khwajazada

Mariam Khwajazada and her family arrived in the United States as refugees from Afghanistan.

She doesn't wear a hijab or have an accent, which she said may be part of the reason why she feels safer in America. But she does worry for those in the Muslim community who are more "identifiable," whether by appearance or name.

"Like, my brother has a very Muslim first name, his name is Abdullah, and I worry about that. I worry about whether he may receive any sort of potential negative experiences," she said.

But she pointed to Los Angeles' diversity.

"We're such a melting pot. Where I live is so open and safe, and I think that people don't judge you by your background, but it's more, they embrace you here, and that's why I feel like it's a good place to be right now," Khwajazada said.

While 9/11 was larger terror attack in scope, Khwajazada said she felt more frightened after the Paris and San Bernardino attacks than she did right after 9/11.

"I think it's because we social media and quick responses and quick reactions. There's room for people to just point fingers and not wait until the dust is settled, and that does us more harm oftentimes. And I think that people are more concerned about who to trust and not to trust," Khwajazada said.

Whenever the 38-year-old hears about tragedies where a person who claims to be Muslim bears the responsibility, Khwajazada said the uncertainty of potential backlash and trying to gauge the media's response is "just a really awful experience."

"You just don't know what to do or what to say. I feel like oftentimes I have to apologize and condemn it. And while I do condemn it, it's hurtful that we are given the responsibility to do that even though we have nothing to do with that kind of activity, we would never condone it, but we still have to be held responsible for it -- and I think that's really upsetting," Khwajazada said.

Khwajazada said one of the biggest misconceptions Americans have about Muslims is that they insist on implementing shariah law.

"Most Muslims are happy to come to America, and they want to assimilate, they don't necessary insist on shariah law being implemented," Khwajazada said. "A lot of refugees are running away from societies where shariah law is the law of the land."

While Khwajazada said it can be scary at times to talk about her faith and where she is from, she is proud -- not embarrassed -- of being Muslim. And more often than not, the interactions turn out to be a positive experience for her.

"I think most of the time when I have these conversations with people, they walk away, and they understand a little bit more about what a Muslim woman looks like, who a Muslim woman is, and I always try to tell people that, you know, you met me, I am not the exception -- I'm pretty much an average representative of Muslim women," Khwajazada said. "There are a lot more successful, and cooler, Muslim women, but a lot of us are just really down to earth and happy to share who they are. We will feed you, we will welcome you into our homes, and we're just like you. We're just like your neighbors."

Adeel Rana

In 2001, Adeel Rana was serving in the military. Following the 9/11 terror attacks, the military was immediately activated to assist the New York Police Department with security detail on the scene.

During a conversation about the attacks, Rana heard one law enforcement officer standing next to him saying, "That is what's in their religion. They have to do this. This is what they're taught."

"After he finished, I took a pause and said, 'I'm a Muslim.' And you had to see his face, he was like 'What?' And I said, 'Yeah. You see me standing here next to you, I'm doing the same job as you are, protecting the people of this country, no matter what religion, ethnicity, race, you name it."

When the officer began to apologize, Rana told him, "Don't say sorry. The issue is that you don't know better."

More than a decade later, he expressed frustration over the heightened scrutiny and anti-Islamic sentiments following the recent terror attacks in Paris and San Bernardino.

"Whenever something's happening, it seems like the Muslim community has to come in defense more than any other community," Rana said.

Now at 38, Rana has served as an NYPD officer for 11 years and is the president of the Muslim Officers Society, which works to build and strengthen relationships between law enforcement and the Muslim community.

"So when things like that happen ... it brings all that hard work, it shatters everything because now you have to start over," he said.

But Rana said he chooses to focus "on the positive," such as the growing membership of Muslim officers in the police force.

"We have the first Pakistani-descent police captain, first Yemeni-descent police captain and first Palestinian police captain this year. You would have never thought that would be 10 years ago, so it's making a very positive impact," Rana said. "I just want to be a positive role model, and I think my membership wants to be the same."

Wissam Hamou, Ph.D.

Brought up in a Catholic school despite being Muslim and as a Parisian with Algerian parents, Wissam Hamou said his diverse upbringing taught him the value of "experiencing the world through other people's eyes."

So when he moved to New York City four years ago to work on a Ph.D. in biology, he found the perfect community in Mipsterz, a network of Muslims across America who identify as "Muslim hipsters."

With the punchy line, "Wait, they hate us cuz we're Muslims? I thought they hated us cuz we were hipsters!?" the group uses satire to poke fun at the negative portrayals of Muslims in the media.

"Instead of everybody being fearful of being a Muslim and not knowing what to do of their identity, we're saying that people didn't like us because we were hipsters not because we're Muslim and being sarcastic about the fact that Muslims are being bashed," Hamou said.

The group's primary goal is to create a space for all individuals -- Muslim and non-Muslims -- to share their talents and talk about about everything from fashion and the arts to religion and current events. But its side goal is to be a counternarrative to the misconceptions about Muslims.

For example, in 2013, Mipsterz released a viral video showing young, stylish Muslim women clad in hijabs and heels hanging out major U.S. cities skateboarding, taking selfies and doing other fun, ordinary things.

"When they see the Muslim band for example having crossdressing and it changes their mind on what it is to be Muslim and open their mind to this narrative, that's great," Hamou said.