hijab


WordPress tells me that it has been over three months since I last posted. I have been busy and in another transitional period with the Texas-Virginia move, so I haven’t felt like blogging.  I am just waiting right now for my pressure cooker lid to fall in, so I will try to write a post now as I sit in wait.

I didn’t feel much like blogging last year when we were getting ready to leave Dubai. Subhanallah, it has been well over a year that I have been back in the US. My husband left Texas for the DC area to start his new job in late June, and my daughters and I followed him in August. We would have joined him sooner, but we had to wait for the apartment we had selected to be ready. So, I got more play time with my family in Texas, alhamdulillah.

Now, I am in Novastan. I quite like it here, alhamdulillah. There is a huge and diverse Muslim community here. It is A LOT easier to be in public in hijab here, thank God. In Austin it was very challenging due to all of the stares. Here, there are many hijab wearing women everywhere, and they seem to be working in major stores like Walmart, Target, the grocery stores, and all. So it is a regular sight here and not something that draws too much attention. In Austin, it was also hard to go out with my parents because people would stare even harder at our interfaith family as if to say “Oh my, golly garsh, I would be so embarrassed if my daughter ever went and married one of them men and came home to me wearing that thing on her head…” but then again, maybe that is all in my own head and no one was really thinking that at all. Stares and visible discomfort, though mostly stiff uncomfortable friendliness and politeness, were a common reaction to me.  My whole family is great about it and it never bothered a single one of them at all to be out with me in public (well, except for my 90 year old grandmother, but hey, she’s 90 mashallah), and I realize that I am lucky that way because I have other friends who really get hell from their own relatives about hijab.

So, out here in Novastan I have a lot of options for Muslim worship, including a more progressive oriented community, which is refreshing coming from the Arabian Gulf where in order to be considered “religious,” you have to wear all black and cover everything but just one eye to see the way and pray in the darkest corner of your house. Any inclination to pray at mosques in a mixed gender musallah where you could actually SEE the imam or khateeb, while indisputably the Sunnah arrangement of a mosque, was just unthinkable. But here I have it much better. One of the many reasons I like being a practicing Muslim better in North America than in the Arabian Gulf.

There are also a lot of other things I like here: greenery (I like walking on trails), Muslim mommy meet ups, Hindi/Urdu language practice groups, and…I have an Andhra style dosa place right outside of our apartment complex where I can go and get my dosa fix. No, it isn’t my precious Saravana Bhavan by Lamcy Plaza, but it is crispy (though a bit oily), spicy, and good. Actually, my apartment complex is filled with Telugu speaking people. All my neighbors above and below are from Andhra/Telengana. It seems that there is quite a large Andhra community here. I should learn Telugu.

I also met a Sindhi Auntie who is visiting her daughter from Pune for a few months here in my apartment complex, and who I chit chat with while her grandchildren and my kids play on the apartment complex playground. She brought me a sample of some kind of Maharashtrian fresh green chile and garlic chutney that she made the other day. This place is really starting to feel like Dubai, all Indian neighbors and aunties bringing me samples of delicious things to eat!  I also met a white Australian lady who is married to a Bengali. She is a Hindu convert and she introduced herself with a Sanskrit name, and even though we have chosen different paths I feel we have quite a bit in common as someone who has changed my name to Fatima. When I talk to her about my life and travels, I don’t have to explain every single thing to her. Interestingly, she has a brother who converted to Islam. He is married to a Malay lady. For some reason, a lot of Western male converts seem to be married to Malay or Indonesian women, I have noticed. Last, I met an  Andhra lady from Hyderabad who is very nice to talk to. She told me “Oh, I have lots of Muslim friends back home, and when I talk to them,” …she points to the group of Andhra aunties standing nearby in a circle next to the play area… “they say, your Telugu is half Urdu!” I peeked at some online Telugu learning resources out of curiosity, and I saw that there were a lot of Sanskrit as well as Persio-Arabic words in it, so although it was Greek to me, I could pick out some words I recognized from the sample sentences…so I guess Hyderabadi Telugu is very Urdu-influenced??? She also told me her roommate in college was a girl named Ayesha who is still her best friend. I get it, she has to show me that she is friendly with Muslims and doesn’t have any issues with making a friendship with me. I held back from telling her the same thing back-”Oh, in Dubai I had sooo many Hindu friends, I lurve pure vegetarians and they lurve me back, yippee! Some of my best friends are…blah blah blah.” I did tell her that my husband has relatives living in Hyderabad and he has been there before, but let my actions and personality let her know that I am totally open to friendships with anyone and everyone. Anyway, I am an American, not an Indian Muslim, so I don’t count when it comes to these sensitive issues, and I have the option to brush this stuff off. She is very nice though and we have good conversations. I am thinking about asking her to take exercise walks with me, since she seems like she might be game. I walked almost every day for the whole year in Texas, but sadly have only been out walking one single time here.

We have settled into are apartment nicely, and we are just missing some pieces of furniture and some things that will finally make our new home complete, but mostly everything is set up. I still have to take care of some special vehicle registration stuff and get new license plates. I did get a new driving license, so one thing down, two more to go!

Well, *pop* there goes the lid to my handy old pressure cooker. Off I must run!

A poem for Blog Carnival “Convert Truths: In Shades of Grey”

Sister in Islam

Cringe at revert

Revert

Convert

I am jealous of you

Sister

Fake ass Muslim

Christmas tree and Easter egg hunt

How can you do all that and still say

Muslim

Hate coming to the mosque

Side glances slash through you

No hijab

No fast during Ramadan

Fake that you know how to pray

Husband goes to the sports bar after work

Only complain that he spends too much time out with friends

Don’t even know what’s haraam

Hate all the native women

Abhor all the converts

Fakes and phonies!

Nominal Muslim

No community mess for you

You ain’t messy

Lost children

Sister!

You say

Over-head abaya

Like a giant black egg

Wishing for niqab

But your husband won’t let you wear it

Vomit

Scoffing at my colors

Tut-tutting my tight jeans

Don’t you know I can’t find no loose jeans, thick thighs like mine?

Facetious words to mess with you: prudish

Fake

Lost and lonely

Me, too

On the best of best paths

Nice, so nice

Self-righteous, several atom’s worth of arrogance

Gossip monger

That is all you have

Not a care how you look, no make up, not even eyeliner

Some color for your dull face

Male species

Writhing in ecstasy with one glance at you

Red face, rosacea, glowing noor of hoor

I am jealous of you

Confidence in yourself, your path

I am jealous of you

Sister, stand up!

With men

No hijab

Persian custom

Took it off

Talk like you know what it’s like to wear it

But girl, that was years ago

Teachers out of the classroom for too long

Forget how to teach

Can’t be a real convert without hijab, don’t ya know?

No one stares at you in public

Privilege

That’s why they don’t accept you

Auntie conspiracy

Plant to destroy the faith

Convert can’t see the True Islam

Western values, weak Arabic

Veil your eyes from knowing your true place

Shaitaana

Fight alone

Fight for me

And your sisters

So much knowledge

Wrong sources

I am jealous of you

You know what it should be like

What you lost on this path

Still believe

A path worthy of salvation

Could have left, stayed to fight

My fight

Zizter

Masriya: Miyya bil miyya

Talk to me in one voice

Dawk to yor hoszbond in anozer voiz

Bechamel and tomato gravy

Grew up on fried chicken and Happy Meals

Happy now?

More Egipshun than the Egyptians

Lonely now?

They love you

Ana ghayraana minnik, ya azizati

They told you in so many words that he would love you more

They would love you more

If you changed

You changed

Have you ever seen a man

Imitating women

In such a way

That it seems like he is mocking womanhood?

That’s why they avoid you

Not comfortable

With yourself

Not a daughter of the Mother of All Cities

Does your own mother even recognize you?

Zizter

I mean Sister

Sister

I eat you alive

Crazy convert

Lost soul

Confused

Ashamed

Daddy complex

Mr. Molester’s Victim

Freak

Wannabe

You and me

Chosen

Don’t embrace

Raise forks and knives

Abandon them

For claws

Dig in

To each other

Tastes like me

Tasting you

Sister Convert

My Spanish has gotten a lot better since I’ve been back in Texas. I never lost the ability to understand, but I was having a hard time communicating everything I wanted to say at first. I used to speak fairly fluently when I was younger, so it was frustrating to feel so clumsy when speaking. When I first came back, I was talking to a lady and she told me that her mother got attacked by bees. I could understand everything she was saying, that her mother (who lives back in her home country) was going out from a beach house towards the sea and went into a little cabana and disturbed a hive and suddenly the bees swarmed her and there was a pool nearby so she jumped in the pool and the bees kept on attacking her when she would come up for air. Her poor mother was hospitalized and kept developing bumps on her skin for weeks after the attack because the bee venom was coming out of her system through her skin. Her mother is elderly and it was a very traumatic experience for her to say the least. Anyhow, so the lady is telling me this, and I am listening and stunned by the terrible story, but I was unable to articulate anything appropriate to say back to her. Obviously it was a sensitive situation and all I could muster was “Oh, that’s terrible.” “Oh, and how is she now?” I talked to this other friend and told her that while the lady was telling me the story, I was just shaking my head up and down and couldn’t think of anything to say. My friend told me that when she came to the US she noticed that when English speakers had conversations with her, they always interjected to show that they were listening and following along. She says that in Mexico people don’t interrupt as much. I was like, okay, if that is the case, then that’s good for me so that I can think of something useful to say if someone is telling me something sensitive about a problem or ill health or whatever. Anyway, I still make a lot of mistakes when I speak, but I have a very good (Mexican!) accent and I feel a lot more comfortable communicating now. Recently, a neighbor was telling me that she had been married three times and that people were always shocked by that, but it wasn’t her fault. Her first husband turned out to be gay. Oh, I had A LOT to say about that situation! Women always suffer so much! I feel sorry for him, too because he probably didn’t want to acknowledge his feelings or didn’t understand them or just wanted to conform to avoid prejudice, but your life was ruined due to all of this. I just blabbed on en español like a motormouth. Anyway, her second husband had some emotional problems and became physically abusive, so she left him. But she has been married to #3 for nearly a decade and he is a great guy. So good for her.

Where I live, Spanish is very useful. As a teen, when I worked in food shops, customers would just start out speaking in Spanish sometimes, never asking if I could understand or not. Now, even with hijab on, people sometimes still start out in Spanish with me or comfortably switch to Spanish with me without asking about my hijab or acting like it is weird if I switch into Spanish (I only switch if I notice that their English is far worse than my Spanish, just to facilitate ease in the communication). Once, in the Walmart, I asked an employee where the shampoo was. She looked at me and I could see her eyes on my hijab, but she just said to me in Spanish “Over there near to the pharmacy.” Sometimes, I can understand people who are talking about me in Spanish. Once these two ladies were standing near to me and said that I looked like a nun and started laughing. At one of the taco trucks near to my house, the owner has called me Mother Superior because of my headscarf, ribbing me in that Mexican Uncle sort of teasing way.

Sometimes people do ask about my origins and my religion. “No, I am not Mexican, I am Anglo. I just speak Spanish cuz I grew up here, I did study it in high school also. Why am I wearing this? Oh, because I am a Muslim and it is in our faith. No, my husband isn’t Arab, he is Pakistani. No, well, I converted out of conviction, not for my husband. I was a Muslim before I met my husband.” That’s how it goes. I have had a lot of hispanohablantes ask me much more sophisticated questions about my faith than the English speaking strangers do, for whatever reason. Mostly other Anglos stick to hijab questions. I have tried to analyze why that might be, but haven’t come to any conclusion.

In addition to talking to people, I have been watching Spanish language TV (A guilty pleasure is Caso Cerrado) and also reading Spanish language magazines which I pick up in the check out aisle at the grocery store. I usually go for People En Español, but once I got this cheap tabloid magazine and in the back of it there were ads for psychics and healers and you will never guess what I saw. Among the pictures of Indigenous or Afro-Latino curanderos, there were ads that contained pictures of Sultan Qaboos (the ruler of Oman) and Madhuri Dixit (famous Indian actress). Since they look exotic, Gypsy, Eastern, or whatever, someone had just probably taken them from the internet and put them in their cheesy ads!

Anyway, it is good to be home and to slip back into the Texan life with our diverse population and bilingual English/Spanish atmosphere.

I left this comment on this article…just thought I would post it here, because there is something post-like about it and I felt like sharing. I have expanded a bit more here:

I am a white convert to Islam who is visually distinct and “racialized” as Muslim-Other by my choice to wear hijab, and I am “read” as a foreign origin non-white person in public. In my observation, generally it makes people uncomfortable when I get straight to the point and say “I am white,” or “I am a white American of European origin,” after this line of “But where are you really from?” questioning has been initiated. I don’t know what it is about a person bluntly describing oneself as white, but it somehow is shocking and radical. This speaks a lot to race-culture in the United States, because people of color are automatically marked by their particular background as one of the most important factors in their public identities, and white is seen as “normal” in mainstream white culture, so racial whiteness is not supposed to be described or noted. It occasionally makes other white people openly flinch when I say “I am white.” I must note that people of color also sometimes show surprise when I openly claim whiteness, as in many contexts it is not “normal” for whites to speak this way about ourselves.

Due to misunderstandings about who and what Muslims actually are, I think there is also some element of the white female convert being gonzo-esque to non-Muslim Americans. Why would she give up her American feminist freedoms for a religion that oppresses women? Why is a white woman trying to be a fake Arab with that thing on her head? Does her husband make her wear that thing? She has crossed over to the dark side. She must be homophobic, support terrorism, hate Jews, Hindus, and so on. Non-Muslims’ responses to us are really a reflection of how they feel about Islam and a revelation of their internalized notions of what Muslim lives supposed to be like in their minds.

I think as women with “feet in both worlds,” as we are described in the article, whether we like it or not, we become like inter-cultural bridges are and cultural informants to people of both of our intersecting “worlds” about Muslimness and Americanness. It is an interesting position to have, and I try to make the most of it.

You talk like it’s still the 90′s. You said “Girl, I ain’t mad atcha.” You were also the second person in a period of 10 days to tell me that things may have been different if I had been around. I knew you had left Islam, but never pressed you on it till now. I might have supported you. (But maybe not, what’s the point of what ifs…) I went off and continued to grow into Islam in the Gulf. That led to another form of disillusionment, for me. I would have talked to you about it, but once we had chatted for a while, I became aware that you didn’t Get It any more and that would just be more fodder for why you didn’t like Us and felt sorry for Us. You had stayed here. You got involved with the really conservative people. The people who look down at Muslims like me. You see, I never went for Hislam. But then again, I never had to. You married the first dude They chose for you. You tore them down in the way you analyzed it after it was all over. They didn’t give a care about you. They just wanted to have a party where they could dress up with no men around and shake their butts. Oh, that, and that you got this Precious Brother a green card. You got some warnings, but they were the wrong kind. Stuff about his culture, but you were so into his culture at the time. The warnings meant nothing to you. Why would they? It just sounded like the racist stuff that They frequently spouted. Here is the thing. I WAS there for you. I was in touch by e-mail and online chatting those times. I was there for you every summer. (Weak, I know). And I watched you change. You got so conservative at first. Once again, I know you had to. You had married right away, and They were so suspicious of us converts. You had to prove yourself. You chided me for the ‘progressive’ literature I had begun reading later on. But here is why I turned to it: Because when both of us got deep inside, not just newbie stuff, we found stuff that didn’t sit well with our consciences. My reaction was to attribute the bad stuff to culture, to not really understanding the ‘true message of Islam,’ to the need for re-interpretation. And I still believe in that. You had other pressures. Your reaction was to be patient, to not outwardly question. But since you kept by me, and since we talked about the things we talked about, I knew you were questioning. You tried to be the Ideal Muslimah. (Man I hate that stupid piece of trash) Well, I am still around, and you are not. But girl, I ain’t mad atcha neither. Not for that. Because I don’t believe  in that stuff, the “apostates”  stuff (what a funny word), I believe there is no compulsion to believe, and you can do whatever it is you want to do on your spiritual path and it isn’t my business to judge you. Can I confess something? Well, you must know it anyway. When it got really bad for you though, I abandoned you in thought. The whole polygyny thing. What he did to your children, but you still stuck by him and defended him while you cried over him. He damaged your girls so much, emotionally. He left you guys without food and money. Yet you stuck by his side. You did what They told you. But I told you to go to your mom. Your mom was begging you to come home. Who cares if you will have to start over? Yep, effing easy for me to say. Weak, I know. And not what you wanted to hear at the time. But really, I was disgusted when you talked about how your children were so aware of what was going on with mommy and daddy, when you told me their reactions and the things they said about Baba’s behavior, and I knew how crazy you were acting in front of them. And I now confess something else, I was angry that this is what you were making Islam out to be. I didn’t really support you like I should have. I  regret that. Something inside of  me didn’t like that you thought Islam allowed this. That you had to grin and bear this shit to please God. Barf. Because to me this was not Islam, this was not Godly or Just. This was not the same Islam that I practiced. I tried to make you understand, but I didn’t truly support you. In Oman, one of my B.F.s was going through a similar situation. But she didn’t have any family to turn to, no social welfare, no nothing, she would have lost her kids and they would have ended up at the other woman’s house (till Wife2 eventually would throw them back at her, I predicted). And you and she did the exact same stupid thing. Coincidentally, you were living on some parallel time line. You both got pregnant in a final attempt to keep your man.  Your babies were born on around the same day. She’s still there in that situation because she really literally has no other alternatives, unlike you. Your man, well, in the end you left him anyway. You did the right thing, finally. (My self-righteousness about being against Hislam made me less sympathetic towards you. How awful of me.) And now you got four kids. And now you are doing better. You glared with hurt and anger when you described how They left you destitute and didn’t ask you if you needed nothing when you finally walked out on him. But when you took off your hijab, half a dozen calls, a few knocks at the door. “Is everything okay? I’ve been praying for you sister.” You know, that makes me sick, too. Look, I was far away, and you know I was never like that. And now you shake your long black locks at me. You say that you never miss hijab. You don’t miss anything. You talk about Muslims like you know better and we are lost and you feel sorry for us. You say They treated you worse cuz you are not a white convert, you are X. (true) You say that converts aren’t really valued. (true again) You say that women aren’t valued in Islam (NO…that’s Hislam, that’s not true!!! Weak for me to say to someone like you, I know.) You found Jeeezus. You have your new man. And then you confess that your mom has your kids. See, you were selfish! You are selfish. Don’t feel sorry for me. You know it isn’t like that. I am okay…but what if…what if my fate had been like yours? Like the other women we know. I know lots of girls online and off…betrayed, abandoned by the community, then disillusioned. Maybe I would be the same as you if it were me. I’ve had it easy. My husband is not like Them. He is Mashallah gentle, pensive, pro-woman, open to alternative ideas of the anti-woman stuff. He is not like what a lot of us got (cuz girl, you know you weren’t the only one who got what you did). So in the end, maybe it all does boil down to how it is with a man. You tell me you have loved me always, and always will. But I know we won’t be in each others’ lives much. I won’t be in town for long anyway and you are not much of a net person, you are bad at keeping in touch. You are still in my heart, though. I am sorry for not being more supportive of you.

Salaam to everyone. It is about time to make a new post. But I don’t have much to say. Just rambling. In about 3 months, I will be leaving Dubai and returning to the US. Inshallah, it is gonna happen. I have given my notice at work (we have to do it 6 months in advance or lose our benefits…Dubai life), and my husband and I have taken other steps towards the move. Since neither of us will have a job, it feels like we will be jumping into the unknown…will we land on our feet? Will we descend on some downward spiral into a life of struggles? I need to stop worrying and just count my blessings. We will have a place to stay while we job hunt and settle in: mom and dad’s house. It will be like when we go in the summer, like we have done every year. Except at the end of the summer, we won’t come back. See, no problem. So I can just say alhamdulillah and hope for the best. I have done little things to prepare for the move. The major steps are yet to come. My employer requires that I do things like get police clearance (in case I am wanted by the long arm of the law) and close accounts and stuff. For my employer, a long 20 item check list of things that I haven’t started waits for me, but much of it I can’t do until near the end. They let you come here pretty easily but when you leave it is a headache. And there are shippers and cartons and excess baggage and stuff. All my books! All my clothes! I have Western clothes and shalwar qameezes. Two wardrobes! And my kids’ stuff. And my kitchen. What to take? What to do with what we don’t take? Oh…so much to think about. I just feel myself pulling inward. I just feel like being quiet for a while. Besides the logistics of leaving, I have also been thinking about things I will miss: Rajasthaani thalis, dosas, prayer rooms everywhere, tailoring clothes, all of the indoor kids’ activities, and so much more. (hmmm, yes I did put the food before the prayer rooms, didn’t I?) It is also nice to visually blend in here. Scarf. No one stares here because of it. Going back to the US each summer, I am reminded that my little head covering isn’t just part of the scenery. It attracts attention. It is jarring to get used to that attention. I get used to it again quickly. But still…Oh and I have some stuff to do and buy. And I have a few saris given to me for my wedding and as gifts that I haven’t tailored because I never wear saris. I feel I should have their borders finished and make blouses and petticoats for them because it would cost too much in the States or else I would have to wait till when we go to Pakistan next, which may be a while…and that would entail carrying them West then East again.  I am hoping I will have some opportunities to wear them to ladies-only weddings or something. Over here I would just ask a neighbor to help me wear a sari, or even do it at a saloon (salon, that is). Who am I gonna ask there? Better learn to wear myself a sari for imaginary future social events. So much to do. So much to do. Most people buy carpets before they leave here. I don’t want any carpets though. Or do I? Now, there is some serious stuff, too. I also need to request all of my girls’ and my medical records. I need to take care of dental stuff before I don’t have dental insurance. I need to figure out what I am gonna do for health insurance while my husband and I are unemployed in the US. Texas has a state program for children’s health insurance, so I have looked into applying for that so at least my girls will have coverage. See, there is stuff to do. And I better get started so that it doesn’t mount up at the very end. So off I go…

For Brooke’s Carnival of White Privilege and The Ummah:

This is just a collection of my reflections. A lot of it is just observations or thoughts I had from watching myself or people around me, and also from reading some other carnival posts or their respective comments and reflecting a bit. A lot of it comes from just taking basic anti-racism rhetoric about white privilege and adding a white Muslim convert twist to it. So here you have it.

1. White Western Muslims are highly valued in Muslim communities. Yep, I know we face flack, too. We do talk about that a lot, don’t we? I am not talking about the downside here though. I am talking simply about white privilege and the Ummah. We are valued above converts of color, for sure. And although our presence may be of trivial value in the big picture of our personal Muslim communities, we are often selected to be the faces of these communities in the public sphere. In other words, highly public representatives of our community, motivational speakers, organization leaders and so forth are often white, while our communities are mostly of color. We are valued because of White Supremacist structures that say White is Right, so if a White Person chooses Islam as Right, it validates Islam. It means Islam is Right. I know Islam can stand on its own with no validation. But The Ummah has been under stress from The West for a long time, making Muslims weak and in need of self-validation sometimes. And this is a world in which everything Powerful and everything deemed as modern and good is driven by white people. Where is the best science, medicine, technology, popular culture like movies, music, fashion, trends, etc. coming from? It is from Whiteness due to a white supremacist global hegemony that has persisted since white colonialism in and on top of nations of people of color, including in Muslim lands. That is why we are trophy converts. When we are taken as trophy converts, our mere presence confirms White Supremacy by legitimizing Islam with White Approval for native Muslims, especially during times when Islam is under suspicion or attack.
2. We bring all of the previous benefits of whiteness that we have accumulated before Islam with us on our journey as Muslims. This point here is paramount to how we still benefit from white privilege though we may be very cut off from mainstream white societies. Even if we grew up dirt poor, ate free lunch at school, dad was in prison, mom was an alcoholic, dropped out of high school, dealt drugs…whatever our back story is…whiteness benefits us whites beyond class because of the White Supremacist system. Because of white privilege, we have doors opened for us that might never open for people of color who share our economic class. If we are upper middle class or elite, those cumulative benefits do not disappear when we become Muslim because they made us who we are today. That is part of what having white privilege means. It is what the Knap Sack is about…the fact that our World as We Know It was designed by and for white people, even poor ones. And those designed benefits are a boost propping us up even when we enter the Other category as Muslims. Even as we face prejudice as Muslims from broader non-Muslim and white society, a big sack of white privilege follows us into the Muslim community when we take our Shahadahs. While we face the social downsides of being white converts, of which there are many, we are still boosted by white privilege in other ways.
3. The way individual white Western Muslims interact with The Exotic Other Muslim majority cultures (South Asian, Arab, African, South East Asian, whatever the Other may be) often reeks of white privilege. Sometimes it is so bad, it seems like we are colonial madams and sirs on some safari. White Muslims are frequently in spaces where we are exposed to ‘foreign’ and ‘exotic’ cultures. Our white privilege permeates the way we interact with native Muslims. We get to know these cultures, analyze them, marry into them, pick up cultural habits from our native co-religionists. Still, we so often don’t fully respect these cultures. We refuse to accept that Other people naturally differ from us simply because they are different. We feel that they differ from us because they and their ways are inferior. Often in narratives of the frustrations of dealing with “natives,” be they Sisters at the mosque, in-laws, or other community members, we whites cannot accept that people do things differently from us. The way They raise children is inferior to Our Way. They way They treat punctuality is inferior. They don’t value literacy as much as us. The Other women are manipulative. The Other men tell lies. They are disorganized. They lack critical thinking skills. Whites subconsciously bring in attitudes that White is Right and that Our Way is the Right Way. We have a very hard time accepting that people from other countries and cultures function just fine with the way They do things, different from Us as They may be. We overlook that there may be other factors at work in a situation than manipulation and lies. We are always so ready to criticize the Other. What we don’t see in our criticisms is that we position Their Way against Our (White) Way. With the White Way being the dominant Way in the global scheme of things, we perpetuate white supremacy. Our way of raising children (which is supported by Our globally dominant books and Our websites and Our family ways) is better than Theirs. Here is a thought: Our way works for Us, it is better for Us and Their Way works for Them. Let it be. And it is natural that if we are white and live in the spaces of communities of color, we will have people of color criticize our ways (say of something we do with our children…like I have been chastised by neighbors or in-laws for encouraging my toddler to feed herself when They hand feed children the same age as my toddler. I know very well that these personal criticisms sting!). But it is okay for us to keep our culture without putting down the culture of the Other. Isn’t that what true tolerance is about? It is important to resist getting stuck in the rut of constantly criticizing the Other because our white culture is dominant and privileged above their non-white cultures. In the end, we have the upper hand in that game because in the big picture White is Right.
4. We whites have tendencies to blame all of people’s faults on their culture and race, not on individuals, despite the fact that we claim to be colorblind and to see everyone as unique individuals. It is more like this: We see Ourselves and other whites as unique individuals, but we see native Muslims as part of Their cultures and blame any contentions we have with them on cultural deficits. This is a very deep issue with white privilege. It is something I struggle with myself as I live among people of color surrounded by people of several foreign cultures. But I have seen white Muslims descend into very racist thinking when coming into cultural conflict, even referring to all of the women in their husband of color’s culture as “manipulative bitches” and so forth. If that isn’t racist, then I don’t know what is.
5. We are still white and we still have white privilege after our Shahadah. This should be obvious, but many white Muslims seem to be delusional about this. Despite the fact that we become Other and separate from our mainstream white Western society, and that we can face severe discrimination, even threat of physical attack for being Muslims. We are STILL white. Even though when we wear hijab people do not “read us” as white, and mistake us for people of color. Strangers do treat us as people of color. Meaning non-Muslim strangers sometimes treat us badly. But with people who know us, being white is still a major factor in our interactions with others, just as it is for all whites, because of white privilege. As I say above, this impacts the way we interact with non-white native Muslims and converts of color. So we may become pariahs in larger white society. But we have our white speshul status among Muslims. It doesn’t matter if people of color say to you “You don’t act white,” “I never think of you as white,” “You are an honorary Arab,” “You are practically a Pakistani,” “You sound just like a Nigerian,” or whatever. We are still white.
6. White Muslims are just as bad as non-Muslim whites in both denying that we are white and down playing white privilege. We use the same tactics. All of my friends, my husband, and my children are people of color. I am Irish/Jewish/Italian so I faced prejudice before Islam, so I have less white privilege. I grew up poor in America so I am not really white. (This one is really bad because it aligns American people of color with poverty, and you can just guess which people the white Americans who say this have in mind when they create this alignment) There is no such thing as “white,” I hate labels, I don’t see race. It is The Muslims who make the Muslim community so racist. Immigrant Muslims are so racist, We are colorblind, and They are the racists. We basically fall back on the same lame excuses and deflections of white privilege that mainstream non-Muslim whites do when these discussions arise. Word for word.
7. Yes, I know a lot of native Muslims, either in Muslim countries or immigrant Muslims, are very openly racist. They are not politically correct. Whatever group it is, they think they are better than other groups and they often make comments about other groups as if their opinions were fact. They are shocked and think you are crazy if you point out their racism because they view their racist opinions as fact. “But such and such group IS miserly!” “But they really ARE dirty!” and so forth. Their home countries did not have a civil rights movement or a political correctness movement that altered the way that people talked publically about race, and it shows very often in the comments they make. In the American context, they also tend to filter, concentrate and repeat racist ideas that are part of American racism, such as dislike and fear of black Americans, thinking of Latinos as low class, etc. (and non-Americans get these stereotypes of Americans of color from the globally dominant American pop-culture) This is terrible, too, and very worth addressing. We as white Muslims enter these communities and become privy to these kinds of racist discussions. Well, it leads back to basic anti-racist principles: People of color do say racist things and are indeed prejudiced. But systematic, institutional, power bearing structured racism is White like Us. Though the native Muslim racism does have implications in immigrant mosques, and abroad very deeply in Muslim majority countries, the most powerful face of racism is still white. So it is simply more dangerous for whites to be racist. Not to mention that whatever racist hierarchies persist in the Muslim countries, or within immigrant communities whites are still on the top of the heap. When whites are in these spaces of people of color and hear the open racism spewed about, while in polite white Western society racism is very present but not so direct, whites tend to feel smug and superior to these Muslims because whites think “We are not the racists, They are so very racist.” I will reiterate that our communities in the Ummah have a lot of work to do on racism in general. But white Westerners are not better than them just because we generally use more politically correct language. And any white readers know that in the privacy of white spaces, anti-Jewish, anti-black, anti-Chinese, etc. racist stuff has been said overtly in front of us before at some point in our lives, too. So maybe whites are politically correct in polite company more than some immigrant Muslims of color, but privately white people can often  sound the same as if there were no such thing as political correctness invented as a concept. Another observation is that I have seen white Muslim converts intermarried with men of color who pick up an repeat some of the same prejudices that they get from their adopted communities. Where I live there is a hierarchy in which Arabs are above South Asians, and some white women married to Arabs feel superior to white women married to South Asians, for example. Or a white woman married to a Lebanese starts to dislike Egyptians because she hears Lebanese people talking crap about Egyptians. I have seen this. This is really sad because it means that despite being raised to be politically correct in polite society, we seem to pick up these racist habits without even recognizing it.
8. We can fall back on being white in times when being a visible Muslim is a threat. We can take off our hijabs and just go back to being white. I know a lot of Sisters who do this when they go home from a Muslim country to visit their families. It is too much of a struggle to face the world being “read” as a person of color, so we take the easy way out and remove our hijabs in our home countries. Now, a person of color can remove her hijab, too and she won’t be hated as a visible practicing Muslim anymore. But she will still face all of the other discrimination that is directed at whatever community of color to which she belongs. When we whites take off our hijabs, we blend right back into whiteness and get our knap sacks back on fully loaded as if their weight had never been slightly lessened by being a visible Muslim. That is a huge privilege. And I KNOW that most of us would not do that because of what hijab means to us and our faith…but since it theoretically could happen, the whole issue is laced with white privilege. That is irksome to Muslims of color who are conscious of issues of white privilege.

Occasionally a secular type Muslim confesses to me that my hijab intimidated them when we first met. Like, they thought I would be kind of narrow and holy-moly before they got to know me. They assumed I would judge them and give them fiery lectures when they erred. A lot of more outwardly religious type Muslims are like that, I guess. There really are some of us who blurt things out in an attempt to intimidate others towards faith. I think of myself as a sort of Middle Path person, so I try to avoid that sort of thing unless it is a very well placed mini-lecture. But I guess I should take the painful experience of dealing with the more zealous Holy-Molies into consideration when analyzing one of the typical and easily categorized reactions to hijab, so as to be less taken aback by it.

An example: At my daughter’s class birthday parties there are these women of Muslim backgrounds but who are sort of upper class or elites in their home countries and they are very posh looking, surgery-fied and show up for toddler parties wearing the latest fashionable outfits and tall high heels. Their housemaids chase the kids while they chat amongst each other. For them, hijab is “lower class.” These women hardly talk to me, probably because they think I am judging them. Well,  I am judging them, I suppose. But not in that “You are going to hell, you harlots of tabarruj” sense. More like, “Wow, I couldn’t even tell she had a nose job because the last birthday party was in dim lighting but now that we are in direct sunlight I can see the nose job and lip injections. How could I have missed that before?” kind of way.  But they think I am judging them in the Holy-Moly way. I leave the first kind of judgement up to God. And I tell myself to stop being so shallow and silly with regards to that other catty innervoice (geeze, I guess I am pretty shallow about some things).  But I can tell that I make these women uncomfortable. Their husbands jump 5 feet out of my path because of the hijab. They behave very awkwardly around me. They look down and avoid my eyes.  One time a woman of this sort said to me out of nowhere, “You are so good wearing hijab and you are not even an Arab. I would like to wear hijab, but I am not ready. But you are so much better than us! God bless you.” That revealed a lot to me. First of all, I am not better than any one of them, and only God knows what is in their hearts. Also, hijab has nothing to do with being an Arab. That aside, these women are comfortable as they are in their closed settings with their friends and family members, but in the broader picture in their countries they are looked down upon for not towing the party line and wearing hijab. They probably get lots of comments from people who would like to see them covered up (which I feel is an individual choice, and no one should be bullied into it!). So when they see me, it could somehow remind them of that sort of thing. They are bearing a social burden by not being covered. They are seen by their societies as the opposite of the goodness embodied on the image of a woman who dresses like me. That must be another reason I make them uncomfortable.

Another example: One of my husband’s cousins confided that he was afraid of me when we first met. (I am the only one in the entire khaandaan who wears a headscarf except for one other bahu who lives in America) Because of my scarf, he had expected me to be something different. He had his own (mis)perceptions about scarf wearing women in the Pakistani context. He was relieved that I turned out to be “nice and easy going.” It hadn’t even occurred to me that anyone would ever feel afraid to meet me, but now that I look back on other interactions between my rather secular extended in-laws, I can see their perceptions of hijab coloring our initial conversations. 

All I can say is that I really think religiousness is personal. I really could care less if these people choose to cover or not. It is their business. I have enough to worry about looking after my own errant soul. I feel increasingly non-spiritual these days. My mind concentrates more on worldly things and occasionally strays toward the depths of vapididity (noticing nose jobs and so forth). I believe in hijab for myself, and I need to practice some heart softening activities. But to some people, my outward appearance is conveying a Holy-Molyness that I just don’t possess. It aslo strikes me how much class and ideas of religiosity are so intertwined for some people. Anyhow, it is hard to imagine how li’l ole me  could possibly intimidate anyone, but I guess I do scare some people! Boo!

I have a certain fitnah, a struggle. Sometimes vanity overwhelms me and I feel like going out without a head scarf on. I never actually do it. But I just feel like it. I have been hijabi for years now. I can honestly say it doesn’t make much of a difference in my faith. I do it because it affirms my identity as a Muslim and because it embodies a stage of modesty that I like. In terms of outside social pressure and hijab, I feel that as a convert, hijab lends to Islamic credibility. It shouldn’t be that way and it is annoying as hell, but seriously, that’s the way it is. I have written a lot before (though never on this blog) about some challenges of hijab. There are positives, too. But this post is about negatives, I guess. It is hard as heck wearing it in the US. It otherizes you so much and makes people afraid of you. At best it can elicit patronizing politeness, but at worse hijab can elicit verbal abuse and even violence. It is also hard to wear it in the UAE. Many people here would like to keep mutahajibaat in a little box and not let them come out of it…there is job discrimination—it somehow causes the perception of “less professional,” there are assumptions made about you when you wear it. It is hard for me to wear it in Pakistan, too. Mainly because it is really hot and sticky in Karachi and it causes pimples to come out on my cheeks, but also because I think a lot of Pakistanis misunderstand hijab, or should I say that they have their own interpretation of it tied to class and so forth. Because of the heat, I often resort to the dupatta-scarf there. Anyhow, none of this puts me off of hijab so much as sheer vanity. In the UAE, the local cultural expression of head covering often involves a lot of dyed, styled hair showing from the front. I seriously don’t judge the girls and women who do that…they distinguish themselves from mutahajibaat and they are just cultural shayla wearers. To each her own. But that half-on half-off shayla look is infectious. In a way, it creates hijab fitnah for people who come over here from other Arab countries where the half-off half-on look is not practiced. So you see a lot of people getting into that look. I never do. Actually, I am more tempted just to take the dang thing off than I am to drape it on half way. Anyhow, today I saw a friend of mine and she had succumbed to the bang ganger look. She had her shayla slightly “ajar” and her bangs were sticking out. I said nothing. I generally avoid the inclination to give that well-meaning Islamic nasihah that some eager beavers so readily dole out. I think it is all personal and I don’t wanna stick my nose in her beeswax. I think seeing her struck me just because I feel the same need to look cute. It’s all vanity. Sheer vanity.

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