“Your scarf is absolutely
beautiful with its design and ruffles like that. Oh wait, I’m sorry, I’m not
sure if I’m even allowed to say that…if it’s even supposed to be beautiful, but
it really is!”
There’s this notion that
a Muslim woman’s head scarf cannot be beautiful, that its actual purpose is to
de-beautify her. In some cultures, that is indeed how it is advertised: Women,
the sin-stirring beings, must be covered. The thing is, nowhere in the Quran,
in the words of God, does it specify that
as the purpose of a woman’s head cover. As a matter of fact, its purpose is clearly
stated in verses 30-31 of Chapter 24, which call upon men and women to exercise
modesty: Purification.
The woman was authentic
in her apology on speaking to me about my scarf when I stopped her. Smiling I
said, “Please, don’t worry. There is no reason it shouldn’t be beautiful.
Actually this is one of my friend’s designs. She’s quite a talented woman and I
can’t help myself when I see her collections.” A wave of relief came across her
face as she approached closer. “Well you’re friend is most definitely going to
be rich with art like that.” We parted ways on a happy note.
Seven days later, the
Paris attacks happened, quickly followed by the San Bernardino shooting no more
than 30 minutes from where I work.
I was in eighth grade
when 9/11 happened—not even a teenager yet. My parents, fearing for our safety,
kept us home from school. My best friend and classmate, Andrea—who remains an
integral part of my life and one awesome feminist—called me early that morning.
“I can’t believe they’re already out there blaming Muslims. I’m sorry.” Fifteen
years later and I am still unbelievably grateful for that moment. Her parents
clearly succeeded at raising one heck of a woman and a friend. I look back and
value the depth and maturity of that act of kindness.
I was blessed for sure to
face very minimal harassment post 9/11. At most I had one kid at school say,
“your people did this” and then apologize at the end of class on his own, and
then I had some random stranger in Downtown Long Beach beg and plead that I
accept his invitation to learn “the true meaning of respect and liberation” in
the back of his car. Other than that, I never once felt a burdensome weight of
my head cover or belief. And the reason I once again put together another blog
about this subject, after another horrendous attack, is because it kills me to
hear about women who lose strength and faith to continue wearing it. Women who
succumbed to the fear and instantly removed it. Women who are oblivious to its
real purpose and benefits. Because once again I’m being warned to carry hats or
beanies or hoodies to “blend in” and be safe, because being American is no
longer safe.
That three-minute
conversation with Andrea played in my head every day for the next four days
after the Paris attacks. I was feeling something I had never experienced
before—genuine fear—wondering if anything was going to be normal again. Was I
going to face what I had heard other Muslims faced? Were people actually staring
more than usual and with angrier expressions? I walked into a boba shop on that
fourth day and found an older woman at the register, trying to decide on a
drink. A look of anxiousness overcame her and I tensed up. I smiled weakly
because I felt helpless and exhausted to have to walk on eggshells thanks to
lunatics that, once again, have nothing to do with me.
I kept a slight distance
to avoid making her uncomfortable, and regardless of whether or not this was
warranted, in times like these I would rather be the wiser one. After all, to
many people, who are not very knowledgeable in Islam or of Muslims, this
anxiety is warranted.
She kept glancing at me
out of the corner of her eye and turning back to the register, like she had
something on her mind. When my turn came, she took the opportunity. “Um…your
scarf…it’s very pretty.” I cannot express the weight that instantly dissolved
in that moment and I smiled wider than I ever had. “Thank you!” I exclaimed
with joy. Her smile brightened up and she stepped aside to let me order my
drink.
I texted my fairy scarf
maker and thanked her from the bottom of my heart. Because of her skills,
because of her passion, because of her ability to merge modesty with fashion
and beauty, I have found that people are enticed to approach me and make a comment—always
a positive one, always an encouraging one. This cover on my head is most
definitely supposed to be beautiful and Muslim women need to be reminded of
that. If anything, it is my proud Muslim ID that I am privileged to have and
privileged to choose. Take that, Trump!
Being beautiful isn’t a
sin, it’s a blessing that we should embrace with our souls. Wearing the
headscarf is our form of unconscious communication with the world. Yes, it
stirs stares and curiosities, but when we’re able to fuse the modesty of our
religion with the beauty in existence, we’re able to transcend many blurred
lines.
Racism, discrimination
and prejudices are definitely painful realities however, in the days following these
attacks, I actually faced a strong wave of love and support that I wish Muslims
exerted the same amount of energy marketing as they did the negative acts,
because they do exist! Coworkers approached me with open arms and tear filled
eyes, reminding me that they are there for me and that no one will hurt me.
Everyday I face more smiles attached to the stares from strangers; I get
stopped again and again to receive compliments for my scarves; strangers in
line beside me open up any random conversation of nothingness just to ensure
that I am reassured of their embracing me—us.
The bullet points on
these evil hidden agendas of the attacks are to ensure that we as Muslims (1)
succumb to fear well enough to shrivel back from our lifestyles and worship and
(2) spew divisions among each other. Within the last few months, I have been
receiving texts, emails and side bar conversations at parties from women and
girls stressing about their peers and the confidence to maintain the aspect of
head covering. “My friend just took hers off and it’s heartbreaking because she
was the same girl who used to boast her love for it.” It dawned on me that the
agendas were being fulfilled and something needed to be done. A platform of
support, strength and love needs to be built and if no one else is going to do
it, then so be it, I will. Many women grow up in the culture of religion, and
end up following in footsteps blindly, assuming it’s just what needs to be
done, when in reality every order of Islam in the Quran comes attached with the
call to use your mind. To think. To contemplate. As Muslims, we are obligated
to comprehend
what it is that we choose to do, and that is the foundation of the platform
I am building. A bond of sisters in head covers to learn/re-learn the meaning,
value and purpose of this aspect of our faith. A sisterhood to renew our
devotion to this act of purity that does not strip us of our beauty but
accentuates the fact that we do truly shine with inner and outer beauty. I am
genuinely excited to launch this six-month program and look forward to the
strength, courage and confidence we develop among our first wave of attendees.
We have to unite in times like these, soak up the love and support we are being
given from our wonderful diverse neighbors and peers who are working hard to
show us that we are welcome, and keep on going.
Nothing could be more
beautiful than having the confidence to embrace your true self and I hope to instill
that in the many Muslim women that have forgotten it.
