I know you have feelings about my headscarf, but please relax
Zehra Naqvi says it would be nice if you would stop judging. She’s an American, which means freedom — including in what she wears.
Dear Stranger with a Chip on Shoulder/Savior/Feminist Friend,
I’m an attorney, a community organizer and writer. Interestingly enough, all those things are about appreciating nuance. I make a living by reading between the lines, writing the lines and adding context to the lines. I’m also quite well-traveled and have friends from all sorts of backgrounds. I’m well-read. I’m a perpetual student of the world and history and movements. So, if you’re going to talk down to me, come ready. I bore easily and bear sarcasm as a weapon.
Me wearing a head covering? Not oppression. I am making the choice to wear it in a country that was founded on religious freedom. No one is making me wear it. I don’t care whether others wear it. I don’t think that wearing/not wearing a head covering determines whether someone’s going to heaven or hell. I understand God as less Anna Wintour and more about big-picture things like how we treat each other as human beings.
Did you decide how to dress yourself today? Cool, so did I.
I like wearing it, I like how I feel wearing it, so I wear it.
And just to be clear, I’m not assuming responsibility for the action of men. The concept of hijab requires men to observe modesty as well. Not just in their clothing, but in how they treat women. If men are acting badly, it’s not Islam that’s to blame. They’re running afoul of Islam if they’re engaging in any form of sexual harassment or assault. It’s every soul for itself as we are called to account before God.
Did you just say I should go back home? I’m actually being super American by standing by my religious beliefs. You’re actually being a total fascist, trying to impose your viewpoint on me. You hate ISIS? Yeah, I do too. You know what ISIS does? They try to impose their viewpoints on others. Careful you don’t become what you hate.
So can you go save someone who actually needs saving? Or can you direct your efforts to rolling back racial and faithbased profiling, which actually is oppressive to me? Hello? Hey! Where did you go? Typical. Best, Zehra
Dear Woman on the Train,
OMG, do I have something on my face? In my teeth? Oh! You’re staring at me because I’m wearing a head scarf. As it’s technically wrapped around my head but out of my sight line, I sometimes forget that I’m wearing it. So when you’re staring at me, it takes me a second to understand why.
But then I see you staring at me. Like a lot. Like your eyes are going to pop out of their sockets. You are making it very clear that you’re judging me. I choose to smile at you. That’s my first response. But, I have to warn you, if you continue to stare at me, I’m going to be tempted to take things to the next level with a wink.
Stare wisely. Best, Zehra
Dear Jewish Commuting Friend,
I see you every morning on my commute. I can’t help but notice that you and I share something really cool. We’re both wearing articles of faith. Me with my scarf, you with your kippa and payot. We’re both outed to the world as people of faith. And that garners a lot of negative attention at times, so I feel a certain solidarity with you even though we’ve never spoken to each other.
The only excuse I’ve had to catch your eye and smile at you was on a Friday when I had luggage in tow and got onto the elevator with you. I asked you what floor I should press for you. You looked up at me, smiled, and told me the bottom floor. You weren’t the least bit fazed by my scarf. I can’t tell you how much it means in my day to have a smile come at me at first glance rather than a double-take or a glare.
And I found it incredibly relatable to be in the elevator with you when the elevator stopped one floor down and an old white woman was about to step onto the elevator, saw the two of us as she placed one foot in, and then inelegantly yelped and abruptly stepped right out, until her younger companion dragged her back in, glaring at her and looking at us apologetically. Best, Zehra
Dear Muslim Girls and Women Struggling with Whether to Don a Scarf,
A lot of you have reached out to me since I started writing about my decision to wear the headscarf as an adult. You want me to help you figure out if it’s going to be good for you or if it’s OK to take it off. I can’t answer that. I am a big believer in personal journeys. My journey saw me wearing the scarf as a teenager, becoming a de-jabi as a young adult, and then becoming a re-jabi in my adulthood. I needed the full perspective to appreciate the idea of this kind of modesty and to understand which way I preferred, and which brought out the best in me.
Wearing the scarf doesn’t feel like a burden or hardship to me. If that’s what it feels like to you, then maybe you’re doing a disservice to yourself, the idea of hijab and to those who wear the headscarf. If I had worn it out of a sense of obligation alone, it wouldn’t have lasted. I wore it because I knew I wanted to, that I felt fierce with it, and that no matter what came at me because of wearing it, I couldn’t imagine not wearing it from that day on.
I can’t deny that it may hamper your career trajectory depending on your colleagues, workplace and field. Can a female wearing a head covering be a litigator or a TV reporter? Yes, but she will have more of an uphill battle. That’s not to discourage her; it actually means there’s a pressing need for her.
Just never let it become something you resent.
To me, it hasn’t just been worth it, it’s been rewarding beyond my imagination. Best, Zehra