Tagged guest post

Recipe: Breakfast Berry Quinoa (Welcome Kiran!)

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HijabMan’s Note: Please welcome our new guest blogger, Kiran. She’ll be posting healthy recipes and whatever else she feels like writing. She also blogs at 400Degrees

Salaams, Greetings & Hello I’m Kiran!

HijabMan and I have been friends for some time, but I didn’t really get to know him until he photographed my wedding two years ago. At the time I was living in Indiana and have since moved to Connecticut. After getting married I had to face several adjustments: I was beginning a masters program (I’m a librarian by training), I was moving to some strange unheard of state, and after so long, I had to share my space with another person. Fortunately he likes books and I like shelving them (not that a real librarian would).
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Thinking About A Midwife

Eryn seconds oldNote: The following is a guest post by WoodTurtle and originally appeared on her blog, where she shares experiences in Islamic feminism and modern motherhood.

I’ve been thinking about getting pregnant.

Pregnant bellies have started looking really good to me and I’ve actually felt some jealousy when shopping for baby items and bumping into random bumps. I loved being pregnant and alhamdulilah I had a great birth experience. And of course it’s something that I’d like to experience again.

Naturally, there were definitely some things about my birth experience that I’d like done differently a second time around.

The hospital we chose was AMAZING. Apparently the labour help is top-notch, allowing labouring mothers to walk around and not to be tied down to an IV; no invasive baby monitoring; a low use of invasive delivery techniques such as forceps or episiotomies; and a dedicated nurse to coach you through labour (I wouldn’t really know first hand though, since we essentially walked in and delivered on the spot).

They don’t routinely suction newborns and will hold off administering any injections or clean-up if you request it. And the first place baby goes after being born is directly onto mama’s chest. There baby is left to calm down, breathe, and get some help latching on from lactation consultants if necessary. The aftercare is also brilliant — with daily group breastfeeding help sessions with one-on-one help available. I ended up using their breastfeeding clinic’s helpline almost weekly until Eryn was about 2 months old. They’ve also gone through extensive renovations and now have birthing units so that you deliver and recover in the same room. Each birthing unit is also equipped with a specially designed tub for water birth — which would be really neat in my mind.

Now, there were some things that I could have gone without. Read more

Relying On The Kindness Of Strangers

Note: The following is a guest post by WoodTurtle and originally appeared on her blog, where she shares experiences in Islamic feminism and modern motherhood.

“So, as I flew towards the Middle East, my mind was full of the usual 10pm buzz­words: radical extremists, fanatics, forced marriages, suicide bombers and jihad. Not much of a travel brochure.

My very first experience, though, could hardly have been more positive. I had arrived on the West Bank without a coat, as the Israeli airport authorities had kept my suitcase.

Walking around the centre of Ramallah, I was shivering, whereupon an old lady grabbed my hand.

Talking rapidly in Arabic, she took me into a house on a side street. Was I being kidnapped by a rather elderly terrorist? For several confusing minutes I watched her going through her daughter’s wardrobe until she pulled out a coat, a hat and a scarf.

I was then taken back to the street where I had been walking, given a kiss and sent warmly on my way. There had been not a single comprehensible word exchanged between us.” – Tony Blair’s Sister In Law

Yesterday I had an “uh-oh” moment. But a serious, “What am I doing?!” uh-oh moment.
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Women In Mosques: Barriers To Participation

sign for the women's section: Blue Mosque, Istanbul

Note: This is a guest post by WoodTurtle and originally post on her blog, where she shares experiences in Islamic feminism and modern motherhood.  This topic is part of a continuing theme here at HijabMan.Com. For an earlier post on the subject, check out: Women In Mosques.

There’s a barrier in front of me and it’s covered in orange felt. An unknown brown stain sits right in front of my face. Coffee? The imam is talking about supporting our community — I think. I can barely hear him over the din of women gossiping about their children or that new muslim who wears her hijab in a bun. I wonder if it’s me they’re talking about. What is that, coke? When I put my forehead against the carpet in prostration I can smell feet. The men are just on the other side of the barrier, and no one bothered to use odor eaters. Seriously, is it a dirty water stain? That’s disgusting.

Partitions dividing the women’s and men’s sections are just one of many contemporary additions to our North American mosques. But unlike water fountains and basketball courts aimed at providing needed services, the barrier aims to silence and shut women out of the community under the guise of sacred personal space.
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Do-It-Yourself Study Abroad

The following is a guest post by KufiGirl

A while ago, On Point did an interview with Maya Frost, author of The New Global Student, a book advising teenagers to quit high school and go abroad, where they can pick up college credits, foreign languages, and global skills. I bought her book and had finished it by the time the program re-aired in the evening.

I followed a path similar to the one she recommends and I agree with most of what she says (although how she says it sometimes grates — more on that below). When I was fifteen I studied abroad in Germany, but not on any formal exchange program. Read more

On Teaching And How I Learned Not To Stab People With Scissors

Note: The following is a guest post by KufiGirl

When I was in kindergarten, Mrs. Wilson taught us how to pass scissors.

Gripping them by the blades, rather than the handle, she passed them, safety-side-first, to her teacher’s aide, Mrs. Martin. Mrs. Martin then turned them around and passed them back. Then they showed us the “wrong” way to do it. Mrs. Wilson took them by the handle and thrust the blade at Mrs. Martin. We oohed and tsked judgmentally at this act of unprovoked aggression.
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LGBTQ Muslims Are Our Brothers and Sisters

Note: The following is a guest post by WoodTurtle, who blogs here.

A gay Muslim’s acceptance by the community or family is dependent upon many factors outside of religion. On the one hand, it may be easier to come out in North America, Europe or Australia, where there is a larger gay support network as well as a secular culture pushing for gay acceptance. While in many Muslim countries, the practice of sex segregation has given rise to a kind of “homo-culture” — where one’s first sexual experience is with a person of the same sex, simply because the opposite is unreachable.
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