Nonfiction Writing

Claiming that I like bread is an understatement. I love bread. I've spent approximately 90% of my time on this Earth consuming bread. If my house was on fire, I would toss my valuables aside and run straight down to the kitchen to save my stash of bread. If you had the last piece of bread on the planet, I would trade you my little brother for it. I would have a PhD in Bread Studies, if only that was an actual thing. I've memorized almost all of the words to Parry Gripp's "I Love Bread" (highly recommend you look it up on Youtube, you won't be disappointed). The point is, I really really REALLY love bread. Allow me to explain why. "Bread" is an incredibly broad term which encompasses a great variety of foods and flavors. You have garlic bread, bread rolls, breadsticks, sliced bread, baguettes, bread bowls, and more! You can put bread crumbs on literally anything, or get some cream cheese and enjoy some bread in bagel form. Some of my favorite k...

My dad drinks coffee every day. His favorite place to go is Starbucks, where his usual order is a grande caffe latte. For as long as I could remember, I would tag along and get myself a tall strawberries and creme frap while he got his coffee. One day, he offered me a sip of his drink. I was always curious about what it tasted like, but I assumed that since we got our drinks from the same place, they would taste pretty much the same. However, the hot, bitter, glorified mud that hit my taste buds did not at all resemble the taste of a sweet strawberries and creme frap. I decided that coffee is disgusting and I would hate it forever and never drink it again. My hatred of coffee stayed pretty strong until I got into high school. I think the real selling point of coffee isn't the taste, but the caffeine. When I was in elementary and middle school, I would sleep every night by 9 pm. But Ray Carrubba and his worksheets had no mercy on me or my sleep schedule, so I got desperate. Wit...

When my parents were first married, they watched an Islamic movie together about the life of the Prophet Muhammad's uncle, Hamza. He was kind, wise, and just a great guy. My parents found his story inspiring, and decided that their first child would be named after him, and thus reflect the same greatness that Hamza's life emitted. Unfortunately for them, I came first. I don't think they were expecting their first child to be a girl, because they had no ideas in mind for baby names besides Hamza. Thankfully, the internet existed. My dad did a quick Bing search for "baby girl names that sound like Hamza" and was able to come across the name they chose for me: Faizah. My dad told me this story, of finding my name off of the internet, when I was about 7 years old. I didn't react very well. My brother (named Hamzah) had just been born, and I already didn't like him because I didn't like to share the spotlight. I had always thought of myself as the supe...