Internment

As the novel’s first-person narrator, Layla, a proud young Muslim American and a senior in high school, reveals a maturity and confidence that belies her young age. She is keenly aware of the implications of the newly-instituted government policies directed at the Muslim community. Even before the armed soldiers arrive at her family’s house and tell them they have ten minutes to pack what they can, Layla, well-read in the literature of cultural identity and the history of oppressive totalitarian governments, sees the implications of scapegoating one element of the diverse American culture. 

Influenced by Joan of Arc and Gandhi, Layla understands from the moment her family arrives in the detention facility that resistance is the only option. Despite her age—or perhaps because of it—she believes in the soaring rhetoric of her father’s poetry that at her darkest moments inspire her: “And though you batter my body / commanding me to kneel before you / I resist.”

Though a crusader with an unshakeable faith in the decency of the human character, Layla is more complex than a mere flame-throwing freedom fighter. Yes, she is a savvy organizer who assumes a leadership role in the camp’s fledgling campaign to resist their imprisonment by their own government; and, yes, she has the gift to use rhetoric to inspire; but more than her commitment or even her poise, Layla has a full and caring heart.