Beyond the Hashtag: The Real Lives of Philly Muslims

United Muslim Masjid, located at 810 S 15th St, was established in 1994 and has since been a pillar to the Muslim community in Philadelphia. || Credit: Fatima Barro

#PhillyMuslims has amassed 100M+ users. The punchline?

Muslims living in Philadelphia.

An hour and a half train ride from New York City lies the vibrant city of Philadelphia, and if you look closely, there lives a community like no other. 

You may know them as Philly Muslims.

As a Muslim born in Columbus, Ohio to African immigrants, I never considered myself an “Ohio Muslim,” or an “African Muslim”—in short, I never imagined Muslims could be categorized by region. Yet, the hashtag “#PhillyMuslims” trends on social media, currently amassing over 110 million users utilizing this hashtag on TikTok alone.

The content is predominantly satirical and harmless—one can expect videos ranging from a group of women in hijabs running in fear of enthusiastic dogs, to a student of knowledge reciting the Holy Quran.

Yet in recent times, the hashtag has taken a darker turn. Newer videos depict videos caricaturing and even mocking Muslims from Philadelphia, and in the most extreme cases, denouncing their Islamic faith as fraudulent. 

To understand how this trend is perceived by Muslims living in Philadelphia, I decided to experience the city firsthand, joining its community for Friday prayer, known as Jumma, and speaking with locals. 

History of Islam in Philadelphia 

How did Islam, a religion that was founded in present day Saudi Arabia over a thousand years ago find its way in the northeastern state of Pennsylvania? The answer is two-fold: immigration from the Middle East, Africa, Asia and other regions, alongside the influence of the Nation of Islam.

Philadelphia, aptly known as the “immigrant city,” has been a haven for those seeking religious freedom. The city’s history is steeped in the pursuit of achieving freedom, with early Dutch and German settlers established religious sanctuaries while breaking free from English colonial powers.

The strongest early influence on Black Philadelphians came from the Nation of Islam, which had a strong–hold on the city in the mid–20th century. Islam in Philadelphia became synonymous with the Black struggle for civil rights, freedom, and identity.

The impact has diminished over time in comparison to its inception in the thirties– today, only three of the thirty–seven mosques are affiliated with the Nation of Islam– the impact of its teachings is still felt among Muslims in the city. I saw evidence of this as I walked through downtown Philadelphia. I spotted newspaper stands displaying covers featuring Minister Louis Farrakhan, leader of the Nation of Islam and overheard older residents revealing that these teachings continue to resonate.

Experience in Philly

Walking through the city, it was apparent that the Inspiration of Islam permeated throughout every block. From the corner store, “Medina Market” to bustling small businesses bearing signs reading “Little Islam,” the presence of the Muslim community was apparent. 

This is a city where Islam doesn’t just exist—it is infused in the fabric of everyday life. 

Stopping by a local deli, I briefly chatted with Samira Smith, a 33-year-old, Muslim woman who was born and raised in Southwest Philly. She told me there’s a unique sense of community among Muslims here.

“We are unified, we always have someone to teach you and guide you.” Smith said. 

When I asked her about the Philly Muslim trend, she smiled shrewdly. 

“I’m a no judgment person. Only Allah can judge us. It’s not my duty to judge, and it’s not the Internet's place to judge how we practice religion.” Smith said. 

From Smith’s observations of the trend on social media, Philly Muslims are ridiculed for two reasons: the population's unwavering commitment to preserving their culture and their unique Islamic terminology.

“There are a few terms only Philly Muslims use,” 19-year-old Aisha Reenes, a Philly native explained to me when I asked her amidst her checking me out at TJ-Maxx. “I’m Christian, but my friends are Muslim. A lot of Muslims say ‘hijab’ but here we say ‘Khimar’ or ‘Garb.’”

“We also say ‘Fuslim,’ like a fake Muslim, for Muslims we see doing things that they’re not supposed to do, like a Muslim eating pork– that’s a Fuslim.”

Speaking to other locals, it was apparent the unique terminology isn’t the only thing setting their community apart from the others. 

“The real reason why we are different from the other communities is because of our identity.” Ms. Arnetta, a 70-year old Philly Native tells me. “Other communities that have adopted Islam in the United States in the country also adopt the Arab cultures, the mannerisms, their customs. In Philly, we embrace Islam and accept it, but we are not forgetting our ancestry, and our African American lineage.”

Jumma experience

Around noon, the sun hit the center of the sky, marking the approach of midday. I headed to one of the city’s largest mosques, United Muslim Masjid, to experience Jumma prayer. 

Jumma began with the Imam reciting the sermon, whose role is similar to a priest.

The Imam spoke about the power of tenacity and the importance of community. But there was one part of his sermon that caught my attention.

“It’s important that we stick together as a community,” the Imam lamented. “There are already enough outside forces hoping we fail.” 

The “outside forces” the Imam spoke about are the resurgence of the cases of islamophobia the city had experienced. In the past two years, there has been an influx of verbal and physical attacks on Muslim communities. 

The Council on American-Islamic Relations Philadelphia reported a 216 percent increase in reports of islamophobia and bias in the previous year.

“It’s frustrating walking outside my city not knowing if I will be hate-crimed or not.” Sabrin Sayed, a college student who attended Jumma said. “It’s even more frustrating that I am not seen as a real Muslim online, so it’s like I’m losing either way for real.”

Following the sermon, the prayer session concluded with a more specific message from the Iman.

“May we be taken care of. May we be in the mercy of God and may He take care of our communities. May God take care of Philly.” 

So, who are the Philly Muslims?

As my visit came to a close, I asked Muslims in Philadelphia the following question, “Who are the Philly Muslims?”

While I got a variation of answers, the responses were united by the declaration of faith. 

“To what I understand, to be Muslim, I have to announce there is no God but Allah, and Mohammed, peace be upon him, is his Messenger. I do believe that, and I pray five times a day– how am I not Muslim enough?” Rasheeda Franklin, 39-year old Philadelphia native said. 

“What I will say is, the younger generation sensationalizes Islam– making our holidays like Eid a fashion trend on TikTok. Conservative Muslims from other states look down on us for this, because we do things differently, but that’s how we do it here.” Rasheeda adds. 

The younger community had their own opinions on this.

“It’s not even that we make a trend of our religion,” 16-year-old Fatima Ali said. “We’ve always combined our culture with our religion, they [the older generation] just didn't have social media to show the world how we do it here. The whole trend is just making fun of our Black people’s culture.”

It is clear that the younger and older generation of Philadelphia Muslims view the trend differently, but both generations are united by one thing: a struggle to be recognized as Muslims. 

For what may be a joke for many, the reality of the matter is, Philly Muslims want to be referred to as one simple thing– Muslims. 

Not Philly Muslims, but just Muslims.