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| Photo obtained via post on Facebook mentioned in this article |
“Would you ever date someone outside of your faith and/or culture?” Strangely enough that question has surfaced quite frequently these days. Before I answer, I make it a point to clarify to the questioner that “outside my faith” and “outside my culture” are two vastly different concepts.
To grow up as a proud Muslim Syrian in America means by default my daily existence itself requires constant explanation and justification, whether I want to or not—and sometimes even to my own people. So when I get asked this question, I cannot help but ruminate over the thought, do I want to also justify or explain my existence to the man I am with…for the rest of my life?
Some say it’s possible, some say they do it, but in the last three years I have experienced enough to make me doubt receiving the same liberties I offer every man who crosses my path. How long will a man accept a partner who doesn’t engage with him in social drinking? A partner who does not believe in pre-marital sex? A partner who chooses to fast one month out of the year for Ramadan? A partner who will forever worship her Lord by proudly practicing the act of wearing the headscarf? When people from both my own faith and my own culture have issues with all of the above, can I really hold on to the hope of being wholly accepted from those of a different faith and a different culture on an intimate scale?
I’ve refrained from putting this into words—maybe a form of denial or a fear of retaliation—but a recent experience became my tipping point.
More than once, I learned of some painfully racist and discriminatory statements being said by Christian and Jewish Arabs about Islam, Muslims, and of course the Muslim woman’s headscarf. On a typical day, I wouldn’t be too fazed, considering hateful comments are made multiple times a day by non-Muslims against us, however, this becomes difficult to digest when it’s individuals I know personally, who parade themselves as open minded, liberal, and welcoming friends seeking a unified world.
These are folks who opened “safe spaces” for marginalized communities to create and share art. These are folks who are keen on supporting refugees. These are folks who would have dinner with us one night and the next night post horrendously despicable words about my faith if a terrorist attack occurs, suddenly recanting their claims of peace, love and community.
The latest came about shortly after this year’s Women’s March, when a woman posted a rant about Linda Sarsour’s viability (or lack thereof) to lead the march with a headscarf on. Why? Because this headscarf is supposedly a male tool of oppression she should not be wearing if she chooses to be the physical representation of this march. In summary, this woman doesn’t think Linda Sarsour fits the look of a free-looking woman. I hope you too see the irony in this.
The author of the rant was clearly speaking from a place of unresolved trauma, emphasizing her experience of being born and raised as a Muslim in the Middle East, where she was coerced to wear the headscarf. She responded with love to everyone who praised her piece, but when I kindly inquired as to why she was attacking a liberated woman who was choosing to practice her faith in the West, she ignored. The Women’s March is geared at upholding the rights and liberties of women, including the ability to choose how they dress.
Her ignorant post, bashing a faith she may or may not have left, read like nails on a chalkboard to me, especially considering her status as a supposed healer in the community. But what made all this harder to swallow was seeing who was supporting and sharing her post.
A Jewish Arab man. A Christian Arab woman. Plenty of other non-Arab, non-Muslims who found the right weapon to use. Individuals who I know firsthand, that invite me to spaces focusing on inclusivity and open borders, who send me messages of love and new year wishes, but turn around and write comments such as, “If you want to be a true American, you should take that off because America is not the place for this,” beneath interviews with prominent Muslim American women leaders, like Sarsour. Non-Muslim folks who try and explain my own faith to me, and what my scripture does or does not say, simply to make a statement on how distorted their definition of Americanism is.
Interestingly enough, they would never tell a Jewish or Sikh man that their American identity is void due to the Kippah or Turban. So is it only because this is a religious practice chosen for implementation by a woman that it is a problem to them? Or is it because it is a practice of Islam and we are currently the desirable bullseye of everyone, including Muslims themselves? Are we only acceptable when we’re diluted enough to become the drinkable secular people of faith? Only desirable when we’re the Muslims who eat pork, drink alcohol, don’t pray, don’t fast, don’t wear the scarves, and boast our promiscuity so proudly?
It’s painful to say that I’ve accepted hearing this from mainstream America, but to hear it from non-Muslim Arabs and secular Muslims makes me wonder if they too believe that true American assimilation is in fact a bleaching of our religious, cultural and spiritual traditions? Are they so desperate to be accepted into the false definition of Christian White America that they’re willing to divulge themselves of their truths and strip everyone else of it too?
This year marks 23 years of proudly wearing the headscarf everyone mistakenly calls ‘hijab’ (that’s not the accurate term). I identify this last point simply because it’s a root to a great deal of the misconceptions revolving around this religious practice and choice. Yes, choice. God mandates things upon us in scripture but also emphasizes free will, headscarf included. What media and majority do not highlight is that some of us have to fight for the right to wear this. Instead the focus is solely on the communities that coerce women into it. Those definitely should be discussed but without the vilifying of this religious practice, but fair representation is hard to find.
Day after day I log onto social media to find another ugly attack on this element of worship by so many different individuals, some too painfully surprising, and it only adds to the struggle. But then that also adds to the power of being a proud Muslim woman. I chose this 23 years ago and I choose it everyday with the grace of God, and I am utterly grateful to the mother who remains my roots and backbone and the handful of wholeheartedly supportive communities that see us as we are meant to be seen—valuable contributing mortal humans in society. Those who see us visibly and not as something with a barrier. I am also grateful to the women who work hard to integrate our needs into modest fashion so that we can rock this faith in style. Every time I touch that stage in my curated apparel and headscarf, I feel ready to conquer the world.
See us for who are, as we are, and do not strip away our rights and the choice we make to worship. True liberty is intersectional and not custom tailored to a one-sided agenda.
P.S. The accurate term for the headscarf in Arabic is khimar.
To grow up as a proud Muslim Syrian in America means by default my daily existence itself requires constant explanation and justification, whether I want to or not—and sometimes even to my own people. So when I get asked this question, I cannot help but ruminate over the thought, do I want to also justify or explain my existence to the man I am with…for the rest of my life?
Some say it’s possible, some say they do it, but in the last three years I have experienced enough to make me doubt receiving the same liberties I offer every man who crosses my path. How long will a man accept a partner who doesn’t engage with him in social drinking? A partner who does not believe in pre-marital sex? A partner who chooses to fast one month out of the year for Ramadan? A partner who will forever worship her Lord by proudly practicing the act of wearing the headscarf? When people from both my own faith and my own culture have issues with all of the above, can I really hold on to the hope of being wholly accepted from those of a different faith and a different culture on an intimate scale?
I’ve refrained from putting this into words—maybe a form of denial or a fear of retaliation—but a recent experience became my tipping point.
More than once, I learned of some painfully racist and discriminatory statements being said by Christian and Jewish Arabs about Islam, Muslims, and of course the Muslim woman’s headscarf. On a typical day, I wouldn’t be too fazed, considering hateful comments are made multiple times a day by non-Muslims against us, however, this becomes difficult to digest when it’s individuals I know personally, who parade themselves as open minded, liberal, and welcoming friends seeking a unified world.
These are folks who opened “safe spaces” for marginalized communities to create and share art. These are folks who are keen on supporting refugees. These are folks who would have dinner with us one night and the next night post horrendously despicable words about my faith if a terrorist attack occurs, suddenly recanting their claims of peace, love and community.
The latest came about shortly after this year’s Women’s March, when a woman posted a rant about Linda Sarsour’s viability (or lack thereof) to lead the march with a headscarf on. Why? Because this headscarf is supposedly a male tool of oppression she should not be wearing if she chooses to be the physical representation of this march. In summary, this woman doesn’t think Linda Sarsour fits the look of a free-looking woman. I hope you too see the irony in this.
The author of the rant was clearly speaking from a place of unresolved trauma, emphasizing her experience of being born and raised as a Muslim in the Middle East, where she was coerced to wear the headscarf. She responded with love to everyone who praised her piece, but when I kindly inquired as to why she was attacking a liberated woman who was choosing to practice her faith in the West, she ignored. The Women’s March is geared at upholding the rights and liberties of women, including the ability to choose how they dress.
Her ignorant post, bashing a faith she may or may not have left, read like nails on a chalkboard to me, especially considering her status as a supposed healer in the community. But what made all this harder to swallow was seeing who was supporting and sharing her post.
A Jewish Arab man. A Christian Arab woman. Plenty of other non-Arab, non-Muslims who found the right weapon to use. Individuals who I know firsthand, that invite me to spaces focusing on inclusivity and open borders, who send me messages of love and new year wishes, but turn around and write comments such as, “If you want to be a true American, you should take that off because America is not the place for this,” beneath interviews with prominent Muslim American women leaders, like Sarsour. Non-Muslim folks who try and explain my own faith to me, and what my scripture does or does not say, simply to make a statement on how distorted their definition of Americanism is.
Interestingly enough, they would never tell a Jewish or Sikh man that their American identity is void due to the Kippah or Turban. So is it only because this is a religious practice chosen for implementation by a woman that it is a problem to them? Or is it because it is a practice of Islam and we are currently the desirable bullseye of everyone, including Muslims themselves? Are we only acceptable when we’re diluted enough to become the drinkable secular people of faith? Only desirable when we’re the Muslims who eat pork, drink alcohol, don’t pray, don’t fast, don’t wear the scarves, and boast our promiscuity so proudly?
It’s painful to say that I’ve accepted hearing this from mainstream America, but to hear it from non-Muslim Arabs and secular Muslims makes me wonder if they too believe that true American assimilation is in fact a bleaching of our religious, cultural and spiritual traditions? Are they so desperate to be accepted into the false definition of Christian White America that they’re willing to divulge themselves of their truths and strip everyone else of it too?
Day after day I log onto social media to find another ugly attack on this element of worship by so many different individuals, some too painfully surprising, and it only adds to the struggle. But then that also adds to the power of being a proud Muslim woman. I chose this 23 years ago and I choose it everyday with the grace of God, and I am utterly grateful to the mother who remains my roots and backbone and the handful of wholeheartedly supportive communities that see us as we are meant to be seen—valuable contributing mortal humans in society. Those who see us visibly and not as something with a barrier. I am also grateful to the women who work hard to integrate our needs into modest fashion so that we can rock this faith in style. Every time I touch that stage in my curated apparel and headscarf, I feel ready to conquer the world.
See us for who are, as we are, and do not strip away our rights and the choice we make to worship. True liberty is intersectional and not custom tailored to a one-sided agenda.
P.S. The accurate term for the headscarf in Arabic is khimar.
