KG: Question Marks

by KufiGirl :: posted 23 April 07

“So, you’re Muslim?”

I almost dropped my fork. “Whut?”

It wasn’t the question I was expecting. Not here, surrounded by balloons and bumper cars and screaming children and the blinking lights of ten thousand arcade games, all of them, I was sure, designed specifically to taunt me and my discomfort with both noise and crowds. For the last two years my daughter has chosen this horrible place to celebrate her birthday, and this year, like the last, I’d come along only with gritted teeth and a grim commitment to do my parental duty. Back when my child was younger, in kindergarten or first grade, I was shrewdly able to talk her into having a nice little sleepover with two or three girlfriends in lieu of a real birthday party, but now that she’s older that line’s not working; she knows the score and she wants her due.

“You’re Muslim?” Khadija repeated. She was smiling. Khadija – my daughter had warned me beforehand – was “one of those really nice moms.” She didn’t need to add that this description was followed by a mental unlike YOU. Khadija had all the qualities my daughter wished for most in a mother: 1) she liked to drive her kids places, and … well, come to think of it, that’s about all my daughter looks for in terms of good parenting. True to her reputation, Khadija had driven several of the other kids here today, and if she was bothered by our choice of venue she didn’t show it.

She and her family were also Muslim. My daughter had brought this news home with much excitement, halfway into the school year. “Rashad’s Muslim just like me!” she announced. This was cause for celebration. Back in sixth grade she’d been the only Muslim in her small neighborhood charter school. Now that she was attending a much larger public school she was no longer alone. On her first day of junior high orientation she’d noticed some older girls wearing the hijab, but Rashad was the first Muslim she’d known who was her own age. The first one at school she’d actually talked to.

“Yes,” I finally stammered, in answer to Khadija’s question. “I am. I mean, we are. Muslim. Yes.”

You must understand that I almost never get this question. This is partly, no doubt, thanks to the stereotypical assumptions most Americans make about the relationship between ethnicity and religion: all Arab-Americans are Muslim (even though the majority are actually Christian), all whites and blacks are Christian (even though a third of American Muslims are African-American, and white women are the fastest growing demographic of converts), all men with turbans are Muslim (even though they’re probably Sikhs), as are all women in headscarves (though they may well be my elderly aunts: solid farm wives from rural Germany). Because I’m normally off the radar, it took me a minute to realize that, well of course, if my daughter told me that Rashad’s family was Muslim, it made sense that he would have told his mother the same thing about us. It wasn’t a random observation Khadija had just pulled out of her hat.

When this question does arise it’s usually in a context like this one, from someone who knows a little bit about my background. Yet even then I’m flustered by it, which is something that’s been bothering me lately. Four years after converting, and more than seventeen years after traveling in Islamic circles in one capacity or another, I’m still not comfortable with answering the “are you Muslim?” question with an unqualified yes. It has nothing to do with my doubts about Islam specifically or faith in general – although I do have those; I believe any thinking person must – but, rather, because of how I fear my relationship to Islam will be perceived by others. Not by other Muslims, so much, but by non-Muslims. At least non-Muslims in North America.

In the United States there is a great emphasis on externals and appearances, and a great disdain for anything that smacks of hypocrisy. “You SAY you’re a Christian, but…” is considered a slam-dunk gotcha-style insult by pundits, politicians, and bloggers alike, on both the right and the left. Evangelicals love to lecture the lapsed and the secular on the ways their actions stray from good Christian morality (at least as the evangelicals have defined it), and secularists love even more to point and laugh when those same evangelicals are found giving teary interviews to the press because they’ve just been caught committing adultery or tax fraud. What both views share, at their core, is the prioritization of a person’s public display of their relationship with God: religion as performance.

What this means, for someone like me, whose primary community still consists mainly of non-Muslims, is that with every mention of the subject I’m steeling myself for interrogation. What do you think of the veil? Honor killings? Evolution? Cutting the hands of thieves? Some of these topics are easy to shrug off (“that’s not Islamic; here’s why”), but in other cases I know that attempts to explain things in their historical context will be read as excuses, apology, and hypocrisy. No one asks what I gain from Islam. Only what I lose from it.

If they even ask at all. Most of the time, assumptions suffice.

My sister and I have had this conversation about her unwillingness to eat meat. She doesn’t like being called a “vegetarian” because for her the word is, quote, “a hippie snob term,” one that implies a holier-than-thou stance that requires others to accommodate her, either happily or grudgingly, but accommodate her nonetheless. They might be resentful of her choice and defensive of their own, or they might be admiring and self-righteous (“yay! you’re one of us!”), but either way they’re interacting with the label and not with her. “I can find something to eat anywhere,” she said, in response to friends who invite her over and then make a whole separate tofu dish just for her, which bugs her because in their attempt to be respectful they’re actually ghettoizing her. (And plus, she hates tofu.)

“I can find something to eat anywhere” is how I feel about spirituality and, more specifically, awe. My sister’s diet is a practice for her, not an identity; my islam (small-i) is about how I want to interact with the world, not a big-I label that tells the world how to interact with me.

So I am hesitant to talk about all this, and even more nervous about this blogging endeavor. “Muslim” has never been the first word I’ve used to describe myself, and in fact I’ve resisted that portrayal when others try to pin it on me. Not because it’s inaccurate, not because Islam is a minor aspect of my life, but because the word, big-I, comes with so much baggage and I feel inadequate to the task of carrying and unpacking it.

But oh well. Here goes.

—kufigirl

Will at 23 April 07 :: #

KufiGirl, bless you for sharing that.

I so know exactly how you feel.

Like you say, my faith is about how I interact with the world (and God) and hopefully how I become a better person.

But the double takes I get sometimes as I go into the mosque from non-Muslims say a lot: “Why is he going in there?”

I wish they knew.

Salams
LondonMuslim at 23 April 07 :: #

Salams KufiGirl…

You’re article really got me thinking- I can totally relate to you. Too many people ask why I didn’t go to XYZ party or why I’m not going to the prom, and try to convince me that I’m really missing out. In fact I got a bit of a battering about it today =_=

Inside I know I’m not, because I really really don’t want to be in those environments with cigarettes/alcohol/and lets say * other *

We spend way too much time being defensive of what we’re supposedly “missing out” on, that we ourselves forget what we gain from Islam. And obviously the non-Muslims we’re talking to won’t see the positives if we carry on like that and we just end up looking like sadacts ¬_¬

Sooo I think I’m trying to say JazakAllah for the article.. I think I can see myself focusing on what I gain from Islam when I’m confronted like that in the future!
kaleidomuslima at 23 April 07 :: #

thanks for sharing this…you drew me in. i also share a similar experience but have never been able to articulate it as well as you. it’s almost like my ears need to practice hearing my mouth say “i’m muslim.” because somehow when i say it to non-muslims it doesn’t sound convincing. i can almost read behind their eyes that they’re wondering…“are you sure about that, you freckle-faced white girl?” that probably explains the smile and nod i use to polish such a “profound” statement.
saliha at 23 April 07 :: #

It’s interesting to read stories like yours, of converts and adjusting to being called Muslim. People like myself who are born Muslim just get used to incorporating ‘Muslim’ in their lives/identities. I think it is interesting what you said about the word Islam coming with so much baggage. In a way, it’s true the word has become a word with a lot of baggage b/c of the media, and yet Islam is what you make it. I dunno I just think so much of being Muslim is your own personal experience with God. I’m proud to say I’m Muslim and have no problem saying it (I dont usually have to b/c I wear hijab…) but at the same time I know I cant speak for all of Islam or all Muslims everywhere. I’m Muslim, I’m submitting to God and trying to get by in this world, but I’m just as clueless about many aspects of Islam as many other Muslims are. I say that and yet, I actually dropped out of a M.A. program in Islamic studies partially becausee the title of having a ‘Masters in Islamic studies’ seemed to give the impression that I was some ‘alima or a Muslim scholar already! I swear some of my mom’s friends were asking me all these questions about fatwas and I was like ‘um yeah I am not a mujtahida after having studied Islamic studies for one year people’. It’s strange how a simple title, or in your case a word, can carry so many connotations.
flukycoda at 24 April 07 :: #

kufigirl, i love the name :) and i love this post.

“No one asks what I gain from Islam. Only what I lose from it.”

this captures so succinctly what it’s often like to be a muslim in the states. of course, i don’t know the experience of being a convert because i was born muslim, but i think a lot of the same issues apply in terms of having to both, justify your faith and apologise for it.

i’m glad you’re here and i’m really looking forward to reading you on hijabman!
Muslim Entertainment at 24 April 07 :: #

Quite honestly, I don’t think I have ever read a more thought out blog posting on the internet since I began following blogs about 2 years ago.
Melanie at 24 April 07 :: #

“No one asks what I gain from Islam. Only what I lose from it.”
SO true. So true. That’s the main reason that I’ve had a difficult time wearing hijab (though I want to): most people automatically ascribe an entire (very inaccurate) identity to you if you’re visibly Muslim. It can be so uncomfortable.

Thanks for the great post :)
HijabMan at 24 April 07 :: #

See Kufigirl? They like you better. And I ain’t even paying em!
huda at 24 April 07 :: #

I think the issue of labels is one which anyone who is not directly perceived as ‘mainstream’ must deal with – the issue of not being boxed into someone else’s definition of who you are. Replace ‘are you Muslim’ with ‘where do you come from/no I mean originally’ for people who wear ‘traditional’ Islamic clothing – even though they have no other visible characteristics that would automatically necessitate their being an ‘other’.
Still, I would say Muslim was meant to be much more vast and inclusive than any notion of ethnic or national origin can be – nobody wishes to be a specimen on display for interrogation (that makes sense). But there has to be a way to be Muslim with a big I without becoming another label – I would argue that’s the whole point. assalam alaikum
Editor @ I J T E M A at 24 April 07 :: #

Assalamu ‘alaykum wa rahmatullah
I pray that you are in the best of health & imaan.
This is a short message to notify you that this entry has been selected for publishing on I J T E M A; a venture to highlight the best of the Muslim blogosphere.
To find out more about I J T E M A, and how you can further contribute, please click here.
May Allah bless you for your noble efforts.
Wa’salam
fathima at 24 April 07 :: #

the flipside to this is the experiences of those who /are/ visibly Muslim (i.e. as represented by their attire) and the ways in which they respond to questions and issues of representation. because, even in taking on Muslim symbols, like the hijab for instance, there is never on anyone’s part* the sense that they represent all Muslims. or all of Islam.

and this is how i live with the labels: by differentiating between Muslim and Islam. Muslim as in someone who practises Islam. but Islam as an ideal to be sought after – and in whatever realm, personal, academic, political, etc. my worry is in doing this, in insisting on the individuality of Muslim existences, i don’t do enough to combat monolothic representations of Islam. i worry that i am dealing very simplistically with the difference between text and follower, but it’s where i’m at right now.

in any case, i think your hesitation is one most Muslims can relate to.

*i suppose that should really read “there /should/ never be on anyone’s part.”
Riffo at 25 April 07 :: #

“my islam (small-i) is about how I want to interact with the world, not a big-I label that tells the world how to interact with me.”

that’s beautiful, i totally relate & could not have said it better
Angeline at 25 April 07 :: #

Very well written and thought out blog. I relate with it as well being a convert myself for 6 years now, and having had so many struggles with the Hijab when I wore it & also for the time following when I took it off two years ago.

When I wore the Hijab, a huge obvious indicator that you are Muslim, it was not what I was ready for- the reactions from both Muslim and non-Muslims alike. I think to many people put expectations on the woman who puts it on. Hijab is such a sacred and platformed place to stand in. Can we say “Major-spotlight?”
As a white American Woman with blue eyes and very fair skin and Irish features standing out.. these features stood out even MORE with the Hijab on. I radiated in the scarf way too much, and many Arab Muslim failed to recognize this and respect my struggle when I had decided to take the scarf off. My husband (who I met after I had converted) requested I try it when we married. He being from South Lebanon he admitted he couldn’t imagine being married, and his wife uncovered. All the women in his family covered starting at Age 9. So I tried it, and after 2 years I couldn’t take the psychological affects it was having on me as an American White girl. When I took it off I got so bashed by Muslim and Non-Muslims for being weak in my belief? Who were any of these people to judge me in the end? Could they walk my shoes and go as long as I did? Because two years under the scarf and everything that came with it in experience, was very strong on my part I felt- considering I didn’t convert from Christianity per say. I was a Wiccan and Shaman before! So, for me… I was known for being something completely different other than submissive as I have witnessed many God-Fearing Christian women to be on first hand account. I felt my two years in Hijab was extremely brave and loyal. I did all I could to convince myself it was a commandment, but the implications of the public was wearing me thin. Besides, Allah (swt) has given us Islam as a mercy, not punishment. He makes it easy for us, but it is Us who make it hard I have discovered. And in truth, not only was the treatment from Non-Muslims breaking me down, so was the treatment from Muslims themselves. They often looked on me with suspicion and I found myself having to prove to them what I found I gained from Islam.. and that I wasn’t doing this because I married an Arab! I met him a year AFTER I converted, and I met him in a Mosque by the way. I came to Islam due to the perfect Science I researched in it. When I studied Chritianity and Wicca and Shamanism, they couldn’t explain Science and Belief in God to be the same in one. I found this in Islam. When I converted I really didn’t even know any Muslims yet.

So, It isn’t just to Non-Muslims that a convert would find themselves having to defend their Gain, but also to Muslims themselves. Which in some way I see why they behave this way, now that I have “settled” down in my Muslim state of spirit, because I have seen some converts that do go over the edge when they first convert. :-) *smiles….
Some are too afraid to even breath they ar so filled with fear?

As for Born-Muslims I do see them even having to defend to explain they experience no loss, but gain in their Islam to outsiders. It’s media, yes. Because let’s be honest here… when someone says they are Hindu or Buddhist or Christian or Jew, we don’t see the person on the other end suddenly questioning in a way that would make that person feel they must defend their belief (Most times.) And especially when I was Wiccan, once I told them I was (which most times I didn’t), they wouldn’t even say anything but try to get away from as fast as possible. LOL!
Probably because they thought I would Hex them.
Asteferallah!

Alhumdidullah, I am away from this now… So many things I see now that I was blind to.

Though I do not wear Hijab, I am so very proud to be Muslimah. I am settled down now- not so extreme in “What can I do and what can’t I do- I am going to burn in hell if I sneeze wrong” mode. I feel more connected to “My” Islam and my connection to Allah (swt) more than the years prior, and Inshallah, this will continue to grow. Once I removed the obvious symbol that made me compromise way too much and made me be in situations I was not educated enough for, or emotionally strong enough for yet… I found myself become stronger as a Muslim. I became MORE involved and ready to make Dawah anywhere. I loved that I could be proud to be what I am and not have to apoligize for it, but rather praise it and not say “I’m sorry I don’t wear the scarf.” I am not sorry and I personally understand my stand on it. It’s no one’s business but mine, but to support Islam and LOVE Islam I am always ready to help those who don’t understand come to understand.
My mom wouldn’t open up to me. The Hijab became too much of this wall for ambassador work as a Convert. But once I put the wall down, it is amazing how many Non-Muslims are now interested in seeing why I “Still” want to be a Muslim. And my mom is listening now. This is how much the Hijab can be such a barrier for White America. Sorry to say that… but its true. I support the sisters who wear and for the right reasons. In fact, I adore them, Ma’Shallah. But people need to see this, and chill out on converts. Let them do what they must do- its their path with God, and HE always has a reason for all things.

Sorry I spoke so much. This is just something that has really been a factor for me the last few years. :-)
katiktuni at 26 April 07 :: #

Thanks for this post. I hope it finds its way to newspapers, magazines, and textbooks. I also feel that “Muslim” is an incredibly loaded term. This post reminds me of a lecture from my Psych 101 course where the professor was talking about how we form schemas in our minds so that we can make sense of our surroundings. For instance, a young child forms schemas for animals such as a dog or cat = furry animal, walks on four legs and has a tail, and it’s hard at first for them to see that not all animals fit that description. I always wonder when someone asks me about my faith, what is their schema for Muslim, and just how rigid is it?
yasmine at 27 April 07 :: #

Beautiful post, kufigirl. And I would just like to take a moment to give a HIGHFIVE to Angeline for that rockstar comment. Thank you both so much for sharing your experiences.
Christine at 1 May 07 :: #

Thank you, too, to kufigirl, Angeline, and all who have had the courage to embrace Islam and speak proudly of it! I am also a white American convert (who was raised Catholic and was a practicing Wiccan for nearly a decade) who gets funny looks from Muslims and non-Muslims alike when I tell them of my faith. Oh yeah, and my name is CHRISTine :P and I’m very proud of it and would never change it! I love all the things that Islam has added to my life, and can’t think of a single thing I have lost. I feel more complete now than I ever did!

I wonder, we should start a white-girls’ convert/revert club, there are so many of us! It could probably double as a support group :)

Welcome! This site serves two main purposes: to entertain and educate the Believing and curious community, and to generate a bit of cash—God willing. But there’s a lot more about HijabMan.

KG: Question Marks

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