Oh
the cliché! Lady Narrator writes another post on the Islamic head cover, but I
needed to.
In
this day and age, in these turbulent times, I must highlight certain encounters
that arise. One of my resolutions this year (and this is the first year I've actually
made resolutions) is to look for the silver
lining amidst the terribly dark gray storms. And like those silver hairs that discreetly
sparkle under the right lighting of my bathroom, I find them. Appreciate them.
Recognize them as a gift I need to embrace, even if it doesn't seem like it at
first.
For
example, I got into a car accident only weeks into 2017. I could have huffed
and puffed. I could have complained and nagged about the tedious process of
dealing with insurance companies and body shops and car rentals. Instead
however, I chose to look at the bright side. To begin with, thank god no one
was injured. Secondly, the damages were manageable and left both our cars in
drive-able conditions—though a few days later my back bumper looked at me
threateningly, telling me a few more speed bumps and it was going to jump ship.
Thirdly, I was glad that of all people this young kid could have hit, he hit
me. Someone who didn't rip him to shreds, someone who showed more concern about
him than herself, and someone who wasn't going to fake some bullshit law suit
and make him pay unnecessary fees—which we all know happens unfortunately. It
was his first accident and I was grateful he didn't experience an extremely
traumatic one.
Since
it hasn't yet even been a full month into 2017—as well as this new resolution—I
cannot vouch for my strength, however, considering the change in our nation's
president and the continuous turmoil worldwide, sprinkled in with new stresses,
full time school, work overload, seven side projects and sleep deprivation, I
must say I'm a little proud of my success thus far. And this experience I'm about to share felt like the
cherry on top.
Some
women have expressed their reasons for removing the headscarf and one I hear
repeatedly is they detest the idea of being so noticeable, identifiable, be it
for safety reasons or for social awkwardness reasons. Maybe it's because I've
been wearing it for 21 years, maybe it's because my outlook towards it is
different, but that never has, and Inshallah never will, phase me. Yeah, I've
had my fair share of ugly comments and harassment tossed here and there since
9/11. Yeah, people's jaws drop when I walk into a room and their eyes widen. I
just smile and envelope that ambience as the path I'm destined to walk, and this encounter was that manifestation unfolding.
Remember
my mantra? If you're a Lady Narrator fan, you'll know it's:
Nothing
is coincidence—everything happens for a reason.
I
truly believe it. Whatever occurs needed to for a particular purpose, whether
or not we know it or see it.
I
was supposed to be in Downtown LA at 5:30 p.m. The plan was leave my area by
3:30 to make this happen but I forgot I had one stop, which I had been delaying
since New Year's Day. As girly as it sounds, I had to do an exchange at the mall,
and with an event coming up this weekend, it was now or never. Even as
I entered the mall's parking structure, I kept beating myself up about how much
time I was wasting being here when I should be diving in head first to painful traffic.
See, even I forgot the mantra.
A
perfect spot awaited me beside the escalator and I walked excitedly towards those stairs
when a woman (white Christian, as she identified herself actually) calls out
from her black SUV.
"Excuse
me! Excuse me! Can I ask you a question?" I thought she may need guidance
to find the exit and I willingly walked over because I truly am the mall guru.
Any mall. Any city. I gotchu!
"Actually,
it's a cultural question, if you don't mind." I smiled, because I never
mind, which is ironically another reason some women have given for removing the
headscarf. They hated being approached for questions about it or about the
faith, which breaks my heart. I consider that an honor, to be a
representative of Islam. I mean Muslims walk around whining about people’s
ignorance towards our faith and cultures and then get agitated when someone comes seeking a means to end that
ignorance with questions? Our Lord stated that our attire is meant to identify
us and be a beacon of protection.
"Of
course." I replied. She begins her story about how recently she saw a
Muslim woman (covered like me) park at some place and get out of the car with
her husband. Instead of helping her unload the stroller and diaper bag and the
child, the husband walks and leaves her to do it all. "So my question is,
is that a cultural thing or just a crap male entitlement thing?"
You
guys, I laughed. I mean I literally cackled, head back, wanting to both cry and
just burst into flames. Yeah, all at once.
Before
I gave her an answer, I gave her a question. "Do we not see that across
all cultures? Males pulling these moves and leaving women in the dust?"
She agreed and said, "I know. But I wanted to clarify because I don't want
to pass judgments. I'm a Christian and unfortunately in the wrong traditions we
were taught the same thing. Women's submissiveness to the husband, the man, and
tolerating abuse and I see it everywhere and can't comprehend that God calls
for that, like many scholars preach." I nodded and told her how I had
written (and do write) about this and that I myself am exhibit A for exercising
the right MY Lord gave me to live a good life by getting a divorce from an
abusive husband. She lit up. "Me too! It was such a battle because it
wasn't physical or at least not physically visible and so I kept telling myself
this is God's command and I need to be strong so I put up with it but then I
came to a point where I knew I deserved happiness and that wasn't it."
There
we were, two sisters of faith in solidarity, wanting to be loved for living.
Had I not been wearing my fabulous Veilure Couture scarf (total shameless plug:
visit this magical lady's website for dazzlingly mesmerizing scarves https://www.veilurecouture.com/),
this woman in the parking lot would have never identified me as someone to
approach and satiate her valid curiosity. I'm not one to hate on people who are
curious, I LOVE it!
"What's
your name?" she then asked before driving away. "Dania," I replied
but she, like almost 99% of the world, heard Danielle. I decided against
correcting her because I've accepted this destiny too, but then God showed me
another reason why I was meant to bite my tongue on the name adjustment.
"Oh my goodness! Of course your name would be Danielle and you'd be the
one to cross my path to answer these questions for me, because my first-born I
named Danielle and I prayed for her so much at birth but she didn't make it. I
loved her though and that name I know is meaningful and blessed. It's a very
special name. You’re lucky to be a Danielle. I believe names are
powerful."
I
didn't disagree, if anything I actually wholeheartedly agree and I'm truly
grateful my parents named me Dania. Many do not know what it actually means but
when I learned of its origins from the Quran, I was floored and realized, once
again there are no coincidences. It's befitting for the life I can't help but
live.
Dania
comes in the Quran three times, each a scenario describing Heaven in the
hereafter. Dania is the act of a tree lowering its branches to the individual
who had a desire or craving for the particular fruit of that tree, in order to
make the plucking of the fruit easier, more convenient, nearer to the
individual. Looking back at my life, all the activities I've been engaged to, I
always find myself the runner, the one people call on to bring closer to them
whatever it is they are searching for. Be it kitchen supplies for a last minute
Syrian fundraising dinner or a pen when they need to write something down or an
idea for the project in mind or, like this day and many other days, the answers to
their burning questions.
What's
in a name? Way more than we appreciate sometimes, and this woman reminded me of
that, as we wrapped up a conversation on God and love. What’s in a calling?
Exactly what’s meant to unfold, so as we feel the ground beneath us shaking,
let’s embrace our strength and our destiny and remember our purpose to serve
God by serving others, even if it may be a slight inconvenience on us with
people’s stares or many questions. This is how we build those bridges and raise
awareness.
Spread
love and kindness. Now, more than ever, we need one another.
