Baraa Abdelghne ‘27  is co-president of the Muslim Student Union (MSU). 

Week 3. A wave of anxiety and uncertainty hit the Muslim community. Instead of worrying about problem sets or midterms, we were refreshing pages, waiting on the ASSU funding vote, wondering whether the Muslim Student Union (MSU) would still have a presence on campus next year. 

I walked into the third floor of Old Union after a long day of classes, hoping to find familiar faces, a sense of calm and MSU’s weekly reflection circle. Instead, I walked into a room filled with stress: tense shoulders, fewer smiles and wary expressions. Phones lit up every minute with another update in the form of a viral Fizz post.

I turned to a friend and asked if I should just go home. She said, “No, this is exactly when we need to be together.” So I stayed. We sat together, anxious, unsure, comforting each other in a moment that felt bigger than all of us. Because MSU isn’t just another student group. 

MSU is where we find ourselves when classes, disheartening political news and life feel overwhelming. It is a space grounded not just in faith, but in care, service and responsibility to one another — a sense of grounding that can be difficult to find on campus. It’s the space where we show up, serving each other not because we have to, but because we need it. 

MSU exists in the small moments: greetings of salaam (peace), debriefing with friends after long days, checking in on one another without needing to explain why. Every week, MSU shows continuously: on Mondays, Thursdays and Saturdays with student-led conversation circles and on Fridays, prayers with members overflowing out of the sanctuary and warm conversations filling the corridor over chai. 

MSU is in the bigger moments, too. Especially during Ramadan, MSU becomes our everyday place of consistency where familiarity slows the pace of regular school. And throughout the year, MSU is alive and growing, serving all. At Golden Gate Fajr (dawn prayer), we stand shoulder to shoulder as the sun rises, bowing and prostrating in synchrony. At the annual Open Iftar, over 600 students with different beliefs sit side by side, not just to share a meal, but to learn about each other. At MSU on Ice, barriers drop; people who may have never interacted before share moments of lighthearted laughter and joy on the rink. These aren’t just events. This is the only community for a Muslim student body of hundreds on campus. When our legitimacy is questioned, it feels like our spaces, community and everything they make possible are put on trial.

The more I’ve sat with this situation, the more I’ve realized that what surfaced in the conversations around the vote, especially on Fizz, went beyond numbers. It questioned the value of MSU and the value of the students it serves. Disagreements are expected – debate is part of a student government process. But how quickly these conversations turned dismissive, Islamophobic and openly antagonistic stayed with me. 

Image 1. An anonymous Fizz post

Image 2. An anonymous Fizz post

Through these posts, we felt reduced, misunderstood and politicized. The funding request itself wasn’t something hidden from scrutiny. It had already gone through review and approval from ASSU senators. It was carefully put together, broken down and made as transparent as possible. Peoples’ issue with the funding was not the lack of transparency, but the recognition of MSU’s necessity. This prompted us to ask ourselves, who has to justify their existence on campus?  

Who has to justify the need for a space when there isn’t enough room to pray? Who has to explain why their dietary restrictions deserve to be accommodated? Who has to argue that their community’s needs are not an afterthought but a fundamental part of student life and belonging?

This moment made clear that acknowledgement alone is not enough. What matters is consistent, tangible support that protects the role student organizations like MSU play on this campus. Support should be proactive, not conditional. Communities should not have to prove their worth to access the resources that allow them to go beyond survival. 

We very clearly understand what is at stake in both funding decisions and campus discourse, not just for ourselves, but for the students who will arrive next year looking for a place to land, feel understood and not have to explain who they are before they are accepted. And even in that uncertainty, one thing has remained very clear. We will continue to show up for one another in both the big moments and the small ones. Our community is strong not because of what we are given, but because of how we make each other feel supported and uplifted. That strength cannot be quantified in dollars, nor can it be understood without taking the time to engage with our community thoughtfully.

We are grateful that our funding passed — that the student body recognized MSU, its importance and the support it provides. And we are grateful that there was space for thoughtful and productive conversations along the way. We hope this moment encourages all of us to pause before jumping to conclusions, and to engage with one another respectfully and openly. Meanwhile, MSU will continue being a space that welcomes people from all walks of life and remains a source of community, care and wellness for students on campus.