 This is from a sister named Susie Ismail. She also works with teens, so please pay attention. Last weekend, I spoke at a youth conference on the topic of gender interaction. When the talk finished, I asked the room of over 100 teens aged 13 to 18 years old if they had any questions. I was met with complete silence. Thinking that hesitation and embarrassment may be the culprit, I shared my cell number with the teens and asked them to text me any questions they had on the topics we covered. Expecting maybe four to five questions from a few brave souls, I was shocked to see my phone light up with question after question after question that continued late into the night, long after the session was over. In the end, I received over 100 text messages from 79 different teens. Some of the numbers were cloaked in anonymity and couched in doubt of whether or not parents might find out. The questions ranged from, is marijuana and vaping really haram? To, why do my parents hate me so much? To, how do I stop people from bullying me and beating me up in school? To comments such as, I'm not sure I believe in God anymore. Or I am really depressed, and sometimes I don't think life is worth living. To, heartbreaking words of, how do I recover from something really bad that I've never told anyone about? Buried amidst the questions about sexuality, LGBTQIA, plus secret boyfriends and body image, there lives a palpable undercurrent of fear, sadness, loneliness, and a type of desperate reaching out. What broke my heart was after staying up late and responding to each and every text, so many of those teens sent back a surprised message of, I didn't think you would really answer. Or, wow, I didn't expect a response. Have we turned our backs on our youth that they no longer ask because they expect to be dismissed or ignored? Have we led them to believe that they will not be heard, validated, or responded to? So many of these questions and comments that came through my phone that night were stitched with threads of helpless desperation, a cry that shook the depths of my consciousness as a mother, a speaker, an educator, a counselor, and a community member. We are so quick to blame our youth for not talking to us, but are we accessible enough to them in the way that they need to speak and express themselves? Do we simply expect them to mold to our method of communication and the guidelines we provide? Last weekend, I learned more from the teens that attended that session and from the texts that came in than they could ever learn from me. I pray that Allah Subh'anaHu Wa Ta-A'la guides us all as parents, teachers, mentors, friends, and community leaders to be better, to do better, to open up the channels of communication with our children, to listen, to hear, and to love. May Allah Subh'anaHu Wa Ta-A'la forgive us for our failings in raising our children with a sense of security and safety to face their fears with us by their side. May God make us better than we were and better than we are in protecting our youth and being there for them when they need us the most and when we need them the most to learn, to understand, to grow and to heal together before it is too late. We cannot lose another heart, another mind, or another soul. Amin Wajmain. Everybody say Amin Wajmain.