Former CB and ABC reporter. Been at CNN for a number of months.
When Your Name Is More Than Just A Name There’s no ambiguity — and there’s nowhere to hide.
06/30/2016 03:51 pm ET | Updated Jul 01, 201
Muhammad LilaMuhammad Lila is a correspondent. He specializes in creating multi-platform content from hostile environments
Growing up in a quiet, snowy suburb of Toronto, there was a TV show I used to watch after school. It was called Romper Room. It was your run-of-the-mill children’s show, with a sweet, motherly figure named Miss Fran who used to sing songs and play games with a group of kids.
It was fun. It was wholesome. And for a kid like me, who grew up with a weird sounding name, it was a traumatic experience.
You see, at the end of each show, Miss Fran would look into a big make-believe Magic Mirror, stare into the camera lens, and pretend she could see all the kids watching at home. One by one, she’d say their names.
“I can see Billy, and Steven, and Jeannette, and …”
A screen grab from the television series “Romper Room.” The show was first produced in the United States, and later licensed for local production in non-US markets.
Sometimes, at school the next day, my friends would talk about how Miss Fran saw them. For a shy, nerdy kid in public school, it was the ultimate mark of coolness.
I tuned in every day, hoping she’d see me. I just knew she would. After all, she’d already seen my friends Michael and John. It was only a matter of time before she saw me, right? I didn’t know anything about TV production or scripts or ratings back then. All I knew was that I desperately wanted Miss Fran to see me.
She never did.
I waited for months. She saw Michael and John a few times, Andrew, Donnie, Sandra and Clinton. She saw Jose, Patricia, Alex, and Phillip. But she never saw Satinder, Gunpreet, or Priya. And there was never –- ever -– a Muhammad.
It broke my little heart. I went to the same school, lived on the same street, wore the same jeans, and played street hockey just like everyone else. So how come she never saw me?
Muhammad has been said to be the most common name in the world, but in America, it’s arguably the most difficult to have.
Muhammad Lila is a correspondent. He specializes in creating multi-platform content, often from hostile environments.
It’s ironic. Muhammad has said to be the most common name in the world, but in America, it’s arguably the most difficult to have. It’s not like an Ali or an Omar. With Muhammad, there’s no ambiguity – and there’s nowhere to hide. You’re forced to wear you religion on your sleeve, or in this case, your name badge. It screams “Hey, this guy is Muslim.”
“He’s one of them.”
We live in a time when Islamophobia is at an all-time high. Muslims have been attacked just for looking “different.” Mosques are vandalized. Hijabs have been pulled off. In Canada, someone recently left a severed pig’s head outside a mosque, with a card attached saying “Bon Appetit.”
Often, the discrimination is even more subtle.
I’ve spent the last several years as a correspondent, reporting from the front lines of some of the world’s biggest conflicts. I’ve been ambushed by the Taliban, held at gunpoint in Ukraine, and surrounded by armed thugs in Egypt. I’ve risked my life to show the world the dangers of radicalism, of all shades and religions. I do it because of my firm belief that storytelling has the power to change the world.
I’ve risked my life to show the world the dangers of radicalism, of all shades and religions. I do it because of my firm belief that storytelling has the power to change the world.
PHOTO CREDIT: MATTHEW MCGARRY
In 2015, following the crash of Air Asia Flight 8501, Muhammad Lila was the only US broadcast network correspondent to gain access to the US Navy ships searching for survivors. In this photo, he and producer Matthew McGarry survey the debris from above.
As a kid who grew up eating spaghetti and going tobogganing in Toronto, I know I have a unique vantage point. Some people talk about building bridges. I don’t. That bridge is my life. I live on it every single day. Ironically, if Trump’s ban on Muslims ever gets implemented, it’s people like me that will be affected the most.
I once had a discussion with someone I deeply respect in the TV industry. She asked me about my career and where I wanted to be in five years. I rhymed off a couple cities where I thought I could do meaningful journalism, places where I could cover conflict, race, immigration, poverty, and civil strife.
I thought it made sense. But soon came the bombshell.
“Yeah, but we’d have to find you a place where you have a community.”
Umm, okay. No, wait. What community? Canadians? Dudes with hipster beards? Tobogganers?
Oh, right. That community. I tried awkwardly laughing it off, saying community wasn’t really important to me. Somehow, that led to another question about whether I’d be open to changing my name. I’m not sure if it was meant to be a joke, but I know it was said just serious enough to gauge my reaction. On TV, optics matter.
PHOTO CREDIT: OMAR ABDELKADR
Muhammad Lila’s career has taken him from the streets of Toronto to the world’s hot spots. In this photo, he stands on the front lines of the battle vs. ISIS in northern Iraq.
If you tune into the news (or watch on mobile, as most of us do), you’ll see a ton of content about things like ISIS, terror, the Middle East, and overall security. If the report you’re watching has anything to do with the Islamic World (stretching all the way from Morocco to Indonesia), I guarantee you a guy who looks like me helped put it together. He was either the producer, the cameraman, a fixer, an editor, the driver, an engineer, the translator, or one of the dozens of people behind the scenes who helped make it possible. There’s a good chance one of them was even named Muhammad.
So why don’t we see more people like that on-camera in America? This year’s election coverage is a great example. The defining issue has been Islam and the role of Muslims in America. I often wonder why there aren’t any correspondents with Muslim backgrounds covering it, on the ground, on American television. You know, the guy on TV reporting live from the latest Trump rally. You’d think there’d be at least one. Someone with a Muslim background – and hey, even a funny sounding name – might add some desperately needed depth, sanity, and who knows, maybe even a bit of charisma to our election coverage. Think of what a bold, progressive statement it would be: That Muhammad is just as much an American name as Donald or Rupert.
Instead, what we have now is Muslims answering questions on television, but never asking them.
One day, I hope to be that correspondent (seriously Mr. Trump, if your people are reading this, let’s do a 1x1 – think of the ratings). Until then, I know I’ll have to work harder, faster, and smarter than everyone else. I’ll have to smile more, be nicer at airports, and laugh it off when people suggest I change my name. I’m okay with that. I enjoy the challenge. I didn’t get to where I am by running away.
The other day, I went online and looked up Miss Fran –- the lovable Romper Room host I used to watch every day. It turns out that a few years ago, she had a life-changing moment and converted to Islam. She now wears hijab, works in communications, and is part of a thriving community in Ontario. She still has that lovable, motherly, teethy wide smile that I remember as a child.
I bet she knows how to say my name, too.
Think of what a bold, progressive statement it would be: That Muhammad is just as much an American name as Donald or Rupert.
Beautiful film. Very haunting. Hard to take my eyes off it. Brings back memories of watching the Great Aaron Brown on CNN for days until I finally realized that I wouldn't be so depressed if I turned off the TV.
What do all you non-Americans think? How did the event affect you?
So CNNi viewers are getting Amanpour/Gorani/Bouldin during their usual hours in Europe/England/MENA but they are located in Cleveland. Is this being simulcast in the US? Will we be getting the usual US crew during US prime time?
We started out with Ian, the normal Cairo reporter, who was soon replaced by Arwa Damon who was replaced by Beckie Anderson. Oviously it's an important story so they want to put in their seniors.
Breaking News or Wall to Wall is mostly US with reporters from all over. Michael Holmes did anchor for a bit. But thinking it over, would you want Max (I seem to be forgetting last names today) anchoring this? He is reporting from Paris as is Atika Schubert.
I may have dreamed this (one shouldn't go to sleep with the bedroom door open and CNN still on.) but Christianne Amanpour may have anchored stuff, too.