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The arrest of Faisal Shahzad in connection with the attempted bombing in Times Square has still not resulted in any charges. But, along with subsequent arrests made yesterday, it has placed the city's Pakistani community in an uncomfortable position. For young Pakistanis in particular, the identification of radicalism with their native country can result not just in name calling, but an increased sense of isolation here in the U.S.

Hamza Ali, a 16-year-old from Elmhurst, says there's a joke making the rounds among his friends.

"Brown people are the new black people."

Not just any brown people, but Pakistani-Americans. Hamza and some other Pakistanis his age think that in the eyes of America, Pakistanis in this country are guilty until proven innocent. Even in Shahzad's case, he thinks people have rushed to judgment.

"His side of the story hasn't been told yet," Hamza says. "The media, they make sure the witness' side of the story is barely ever told. We don't know what really happened here. We just know he's the suspect in this story."

Nida Khan, 18, is seated next to Hamza at SAYA, a South Asian youth center in Queens, and she agrees.

"We never get to hear the Pakistani side of the story in anything," she says. "It's always what the government says, and the FBI, and Mayor Bloomberg and all these people."

For some community leaders and researchers, this skepticism speaks to a growing disconnect between young Pakistanis and mainstream American society. The problem gets worse whenever Islamic terrorism makes the headlines. The name-calling starts up again, whether it's online or at school.

"If you go to a public school, you'll see it from all different races and stuff, they give you that weird look," Khan says. "They talk like, 'Hey, it was your people who did it! Was it your uncle or aunt who did it?'"

Ameena Ghaffar-Kucher spent three years tracking 70 Pakistani students at a New York City public high school for her doctoral dissertation at Teachers College.

"None of these kids have any interest in bombing anything," she says. "Or doing any of those things you expect terrorists to do."

But still, she worries about them. She says kids can internalize the taunts they hear from schoolmates, and feel isolated. Additionally, most of the fathers of these children are working class and have little contact with teachers or know what's going on at school. Many of the mothers stay at home, but don't necessarily have the language skills to monitor their kids' academic lives. Ameena says the parents may have set high expectations for their kids when moving here from Pakistan, but they now watch as their children struggle to translate those ambitions into success.

"There are some kids who are amazing and resilient and in the face of everything, they'll manage. But that's not the norm. The norm is not managing to have that social mobility that their families might be aspiring for," she says.

She's also found a parallel to what's been widely documented among some African-Americans -- the idea that by doing well in school they are acting white. Apparently, Pakistanis have their own catchphrase.

"The kids who are high achieving and who are doing well, they're known as the mummy-daddies, because they do what mummy and daddy says, right? Those kids who are conforming and are doing well are ostracized by the community, but only by the youth. I mean, I'm sure their families are very happy."

Mubina Khan is a grad student at NYU, and has lived in Queens her whole life. She's troubled by a number of things she hears within the community. That includes what she thinks is a sense of denial about terrorism.

On the flip side, she says young Pakistanis worry their job opportunities are becoming limited, and are more likely to downplay their religion or nationality if they think it can help them. That can mean leaving the hijab -- the traditional head covering -- at home before a job interview, or in the case of someone who's married to a non-Muslim, using a spouse's Western name at select moments. Increasingly, she says Pakistanis feel they have to be extra careful when they're out in public.

"I've witnessed two moms tell their older sons that drive taxis, 'Don't get into any traffic violations. Because once they get you that's it. They're not going to let you go,'" she says.

Just how alienated are Pakistanis from American society, and beyond that, how likely are they to become radicalized?

According to Azeem Khan of the Islamic Circle of North America, there are just a couple of local groups that preach a radical form of Islam. He says despite the noise they make, and the attention they receive, they represent just a handful of people. Azeem says the Muslim community in New York has rejected their extreme rhetoric. But, he adds, the problem is online.

"That's where we're really facing the biggest crisis," he says. "It's not at the mosques or anywhere in person. It's more so on the Internet where people can put their bait out there and see who goes for it."

Azeem says a lot of parents in the community are too cut off from the Internet to police their kids' surfing, or simply think they're doing their homework online. But even when the family's together, watching TV, they turn to channels like Geo TV, out of Pakistan, which are more likely to challenge the narrative put forth by the American media or government. That can make them frustrated or angry watching, say, coverage of a U.S. drone attack.

For Imam Shamsi Ali, one of the city's most prominent clerics, the U.S. is far better than Europe in terms of integrating Muslims. He says he encourages parents at his mosques, in Manhattan and Queens, to become more involved in their kids' lives. And to accept that they're American, especially in the wake of Faisal Shahzad.

"We are an integral part if this society," the Imam says. "We are not the Other. We are a part of this society, and any harm being inflicted on this society is harming us as well."

After the Times Square incident, he says some Muslims came to him and said they wanted to stage a big street protest, condemning the bombing attempt and terrorism. That may yet happen. But the Imam, like many other Muslims, fears that no matter how loudly they condemn terrorism, Americans won't hear their message, or believe them.