The year before I enrolled in Catholic School, an elderly civil rights activist had been my elementary school teacher. Her name was Adele Tootle, and she had taught us about the freedom riders, Frederick Douglas, Harriet Tubman, and the immense suffering and gross intolerance that were the eras of slavery and Jim Crow. It was in that class that I met the first African-American Muslim I ever knew, my friend Khadija. My other friends included an Egyptian girl named Maya, a Ghanian-American named John Samanda, and my best friend, Michael Peitzmier—who was half Hakkan Chinese and half German-American. Mrs. Tootle’s instructive and often passionate teaching style in a classroom that was only about half white, and populated with students from every race and nationality imaginable left me with a deep appreciation for what America was and is: a place where all nations and tribe come to know one another.

A year later in Catholic School that understanding of America had not penetrated our country’s 1%. While our priests and clergy at the school were happy and embracing of their talkative and happy-going pupil, some of my classmates had very different ideas about the notion of “race-mixing” and allowing an “enemy of the Church” into the classroom. While my teachers did their best to deal with bullying and put an end to prejudice as an un-Christian value, bitter sentiments are often hard to wash out when they are dyed in the wool at home.

My experiences at Catholic School changed my life. I felt the need to explain myself, my identity and justify my personhood, only a year after learning of the 400 year history of discrimination against African Americans. In a way, that year felt as if Providence was instructing me in the art and craft of reaching out to those with whom I share the kinship of humanity, but not very much else. Those lessons in helping people see past their first impressions and fears became the bedrock of who I have strived to be: a bridge builder.

The Need for Pluralism

When I was first approached about going on Fox News, I was skeptical that anything could be achieved beyond honing the art of posturing and delivering withering one-liners veiled in tired, dry talking points. I felt it would be a waste of time, and sometimes—like all entertainment, it was exactly that. But slowly, as I spent more and more time with conservatives, independents and Republicans both on and off-air, my opinion changed. I realized the importance of speaking with those with whom I disagree on much beyond the right to free speech.

The need for pluralism—political, religious, social—is a part of the American Dream that we cannot lose sight of. That’s why I go on Fox News.