Hijab

I was a nontraditional student.  Not only because I was older and returning to college after a 10 year hiatus, as a mother.  But because of my major - urban studies.  I was not a young, privileged idealist that was going to do some good in the hood.  I was a black, urban, Muslim female.  I stood out like a sore thumb, but I wore all of my marginal identities proudly.  I was also a budding sociologist.  I liked qualitative research and to this day almost all of my observations are clouded with sociology.

I decided to wear hijab because I couldn't find a loophole.  I read every Quranic passage I could trying to find a way out of the veil and jilbab...but there was none...it was cut and dry. And over time it has come to embody my identity...it is a protection from men becoming too familiar, from would be urban male assailants, from my tendency to overreact...it is a reminder of who I'm striving to be and the blessing that I hope to achieve. 

Unfortunately I projected my own rationale onto others.  I did not account for free will, nor did I consider that there's a host of factors that shape women's decision to veil or not.  As a sociologist in training, I went into the field to learn more about what veiling means to women.  I interviewed a Palestinian, Turk, Egyptian, and woman of mixed race.  They each wore hijab in different variations and for different reasons.  I realized then that hijab was more than clothes - it's modesty in thought and action and other than being regular in prayer or making up fasting days...it's probably the biggest jihad women will face. 

Although I still remind friends and acquaintances about the hijab, I do not judge. 

Many consider the Post 9/11 landscape difficult to navigate in hijab.  While it does present some challenges, ultimately Allah is the giver of bounty.