Orignally blogged on Muslimah(Life)Style
When I made the choice to wear the niqaab, it was something that just happened. There was no long drawn out thought process behind it, it just felt right for me. Even on days when it has been challenging, i havent’ been able to bring myself to part with it. My sister who’s studying in Germany would call, sharing her islamaphobic and anti-niqaab encounters in Germany. I couldn’t understand why it was affecting her, neither could I identify with the idea of being at the Butt-end of niqaab prejudice. Needless to say, my day (or days) arrived.
About a month ago I found myself covering an event at the local University, I was rather two minded as to whether or not to wear my niqaab. The thoughts were a mix of worry as to how foreigners would react to the niqaab, and of course i needed to express my own identity, that of Hasina Suliman, and not the collective identity of muslim women (as the niqaab portrays). I decided to go open faced because i was compromising to fit into the media scene. The scene that used to be my life, filled with events and photography, books, writers, and other elements of the like.
The first day i entered with my niqaab over my face. I encountered a very large swedish man, who was visibly terrified of me. I asked him if ticket sales were open.
As the week proceeded i encountered the extended family of a friend. Girl who doesn’t fit the look of islamic dress or hijab or conservative dressing, asks about my niqaab. Diplomatically yet unsuccessfully, I try to brush aside the topic. Dang!!! Didn’t work. Person proceeds to tell me how she thinks it is stupid. I grin like an idiot to camouflage my hurt feelings, thinking ‘but you don’t even fit the fardh, and you’re picking on me’, my thought remains unverbalised. Politely i say: Each to their own outlook and excuse myself. It felt like a slap in the face, coz its difficult to digest how someone will be pleasant with you in a social setting, yet stab at your values the minute the opportunity arises.
I go home that evening rehearsing responses for the next person who picks on my veil. I thought i was well prepared. Unfortunately the week draws into an onslaught of prejudice
Needless to say, the next encounter followed close by with a burkah excerpt from Azad Essa’s book ‘Zuma’s Bastard’, initially making me feel like someone had slipped hot coals under my collar. I sit still, reminding myself that people have the right to their opinions, and yes even i would think twice about walking up to a niqaabi and striking up a conversation. My cheeks flush, i feel a little faint. If I walk out of the theatre, it would be a spectacle. The excerpt ends on an amicable note, but that’s not what sticks to the audiences mind. The islamic identity of being a niqaabi feels like a theatre joke.
The next day follows in suit, as if the winds of antagonism are on my back. I’m stopped by an acquaintance-friend-journalist who requests i lower my veil. I comply, not thinking that the encounter will escalate into a point of reference for my own religious belief. Up until that point there was no need to verbalise that i was covering the event as part of work and i needed to represent my own identity to the media. Anyway… i managed to slip away, locating the ladiesroom – i feel flushed, teary eyed and even with the veil i’ve never felt that bare.
I close myself off behind the wall of blank looks, counting down to calmness, and learning how to verbalise: ‘i DON’T want to discuss my religious values with you, thanks for understanding’ .
For weeks later, I watch people who don’t understand the niqaab and feel that their opinions are the only ones that matter. I’m learning indifference, but the reality is… i’m not really indifferent. Having someone pick on the veiled identity still feels like a slap in the face everytime i encounter resistance. Now we’re watching the news with updates on the Burkah and Veil ban in France, it makes the reality of niqab prejudices more intolerable.
I wanted to comment on this, but I wan’t sure what to say. It takes a tremendous amount of courage and personal strength to be able to wear it in the face of such blatant opposition. At the same time I feel a bit of shame towards myself, knowing that I would probably avoid you or a similar person in such a situation. Not out of prejudice but more awkwardness and shyness.
I am a Muslim myself, a white american and I go back and forth with just the basic head covering. So ,much of the time when i’m out in public, i blend in and no one can tell on the surface that i’m any different than they are. This is easier on a day to day basis, but it always reminds me that i do not have the strength to stand apart from them and keep my identity as a Muslim.
Thanks for dropping by my blog.
There are so many thoughts that flit about in my head as regards my transition into the niqaab (supposed that’s why i need a blog, to empty my thoughts) but i hear you. We all struggle with the islamic identity at some point or another in our lives. Know that you’re not alone. i think you might like to read this post: Struggling to wear the scarf – Yes, wearing the scarf was extremely difficult for me .
My life before the veil.. i never even wore the scarf. I toggled between scarves and hats. More often then not, i wore hats and barrets – saying ‘My hair was covered”. Strength will come your way, when you least expect it. Believe it
Hey, I took a nap earlier and for some reason when I woke up this popped into my head in reference to your struggle and the negativity you face.
A few years ago I took an American Literature course and had to read a story by Nataniel Hawthorne called “The Ministers Black Veil.” It was a strange story, about a minister who chose, without explanation to begin wearing a veil to cover his face, until the day he died, and the towns peoples reaction to him. As I remember the story, he was a very devoted and pious minister, but the veil freaked the HELL out of the townspeople and, while they sought his help in times of need, shunned him wholly otherwise. The veil inspired great fear and loathing within them. When we’d finished the story we were asked to interpret why we thought it had this reaction on the people.
My response to this, and my feeling, had to do with the unknown. When you cover your face it becomes a mystery, no one knows what is behind that curtain. And that scares the shit out of them. Obviously a good part of it has to do with Islamiphobia in our current culture, but I think that part of it is also elemental. it is why we are afraid of the dark. not because the dark is inherently scary or evil, but it represent this great void of the unknown and is a learn human response to be afraid of.
I don’t know, just a thought that hit me as I woke up, still half asleep as it is;)
[...] media event (notice how my career impacts on my personal identity?) , its recurring – As seen in my last post. The question of do i represent myself, or do i go there as an anonymous muslim female. Its [...]