"Why do you wear that?" she asks as she traces invisible circles around her face, referring to my hijab.
Whether its at a da'wah table, or while I'm standing in line at a 7-Eleven, or even during group projects at school, the question always comes up. After being a hijabi for ten years (going on eleven), I've learned to anticipate the question. I've gotten so good, I can almost predict when it'll come up.
You'd think that answering this question would have gotten easier over the years, but it hasn't. To me, hijab is my most loyal friend; my hijab is part of me, it makes up a good portion of my identity. I can tell you why I wear the hijab, but I can tell you what the hijab has done for me so much better. But I guess in order for you to understand that, I'd have to start at the beginning, when I first began my journey.
Alhamdulilah, I started wearing my hijab around this time, when I was in seventh grade. At the time, we were living in Egypt for a year and my parents were on Hajj, so my Aunt, who wasn't married yet, was staying with us. I woke up for school one morning and BAM! puberty. My Aunt pretty much asked me, "Do you want to start wearing the hijab?" I said yes, and that was the end of that. It wasn't anything I really thought about. I was raised all my life in an Islamic school, and I knew that once a young lady hit puberty, hijab becomes mandatory. All my other friends were wearing it, my teachers wore it. My mom and aunts wore it, as did my cousins. It was a no-brainer for me. I never went a sleepless night because I was up thinking about how people would start treating me once I wore my hijab. Hijab just wasn't something I worried about.
Looking back at that segment of my life, I now realize that I took that comfort for granted.
I didn't start becoming aware of my hijab until I was entering eleventh grade in high school. My parents transferred me from Ghazaly to Marist High School (long story) and just so you know, Marist is a catholic school. Obviously I was extremely upset with this decision (and I took advantage of every opportunity possible to illustrate this), and that was before I even digested the fact that this was a catholic school and I was coming from an Islamic school. Let's just say that it wasn't really the smoothest transition. Ghazaly was my entire life, it was the bubble within which I existed; I knew nothing beyond it's pecan-green (I wonder what color they are now) walls. If you asked me to recite a Surah in the Quran, I'd recite it to you and even give you the Tafseer in a jiffy. If you asked me where in the Sunnah it described the steps to Tayammum, I'd rattle off the hadith, no problem. If you needed a du'aa for something, I'd give you two. But if you asked me why I wore the hijab, I'd tell you, well duh, because it's fard, and I'd expect no further questions after that. Obviously, this isn't a sufficient answer for a non-Muslim; I didn't understand that. If you asked me my views on the trinity, I'd have no idea what you were talking about. Point is, I had a solid Islamic education, but when it came to giving da'wah, I was all stammers, blank face, and baffled stares. In a way, I knew everything (not even) and nothing at the same time. But anyway, I digress; if you wanna read a little more about my experience at Marist, just click here.
Entering college was just another step on the journey. I liked the college atmosphere much better than I did the high school one. People were more mature, less judgmental, all that good stuff. And in the occasional event someone did make a snide remark about my hijab, the first few weeks at Marist had already hardened me against that, and I didn't respond with anger or tears; I was more rational, alhamdulilah. Hijab did that for me; it showed me the real world and it made me stronger, and above all, it made me fall in love with my deen over and over again.
Walking into a lecture hall on the first day of classes and seeing another hijabi is a very comforting feeling, you men don't even know. It's like I automatically have a friend in the class, because it's totally cool for me to go and sit next to her, smile, and introduce myself. She'd automatically know that I chose to sit next to her because she was also wearing the hijab, and it wouldn't be something weird. It's like the hijabi code. That's part of the reason why hijabi's tend to "flock" together. We're all on the same journey, and yet, we're on different ones. It's really somethin' else.
Hijab has made me a better person, too. If my years at Marist taught me anything, it's that if you wear the hijab, you're automatically labeled as a Muslim. I mean, it's different with men and the Sunnah beards, because that's not necessarily exclusive to the Islamic faith. Hijab, on the other hand, is. My hijab is the reason I make sure to take the extra few seconds to hold the door open for someone. My hijab is the reason I'm patient with rude people and women drivers (joke, ha ha). My hijab is the reason I really try to bite my tongue when I'm angry. My hijab is the reason I volunteer to do things even though I reeeeally don't want to (y'know, to get the image out there that Muslims aren't complete hermits).
My hijab is a constant reminder of who I am, and of the religion I am following. It has done nothing but improve my character. But you wanna know somethin' else? My hijab changes the people around me, too. Sometimes a classmate will refrain from cracking a dirty joke around me because I'm Muslim (as evidenced by my hijab). Sometimes people will apologize profusely when they curse in front of me for the same reason. My hijab has taught me to respect my religion, and myself. And consequently, when you have respect for yourself, people start having respect for you, too.
Whether its at a da'wah table, or while I'm standing in line at a 7-Eleven, or even during group projects at school, the question always comes up. After being a hijabi for ten years (going on eleven), I've learned to anticipate the question. I've gotten so good, I can almost predict when it'll come up.
You'd think that answering this question would have gotten easier over the years, but it hasn't. To me, hijab is my most loyal friend; my hijab is part of me, it makes up a good portion of my identity. I can tell you why I wear the hijab, but I can tell you what the hijab has done for me so much better. But I guess in order for you to understand that, I'd have to start at the beginning, when I first began my journey.
Alhamdulilah, I started wearing my hijab around this time, when I was in seventh grade. At the time, we were living in Egypt for a year and my parents were on Hajj, so my Aunt, who wasn't married yet, was staying with us. I woke up for school one morning and BAM! puberty. My Aunt pretty much asked me, "Do you want to start wearing the hijab?" I said yes, and that was the end of that. It wasn't anything I really thought about. I was raised all my life in an Islamic school, and I knew that once a young lady hit puberty, hijab becomes mandatory. All my other friends were wearing it, my teachers wore it. My mom and aunts wore it, as did my cousins. It was a no-brainer for me. I never went a sleepless night because I was up thinking about how people would start treating me once I wore my hijab. Hijab just wasn't something I worried about.
Looking back at that segment of my life, I now realize that I took that comfort for granted.
I didn't start becoming aware of my hijab until I was entering eleventh grade in high school. My parents transferred me from Ghazaly to Marist High School (long story) and just so you know, Marist is a catholic school. Obviously I was extremely upset with this decision (and I took advantage of every opportunity possible to illustrate this), and that was before I even digested the fact that this was a catholic school and I was coming from an Islamic school. Let's just say that it wasn't really the smoothest transition. Ghazaly was my entire life, it was the bubble within which I existed; I knew nothing beyond it's pecan-green (I wonder what color they are now) walls. If you asked me to recite a Surah in the Quran, I'd recite it to you and even give you the Tafseer in a jiffy. If you asked me where in the Sunnah it described the steps to Tayammum, I'd rattle off the hadith, no problem. If you needed a du'aa for something, I'd give you two. But if you asked me why I wore the hijab, I'd tell you, well duh, because it's fard, and I'd expect no further questions after that. Obviously, this isn't a sufficient answer for a non-Muslim; I didn't understand that. If you asked me my views on the trinity, I'd have no idea what you were talking about. Point is, I had a solid Islamic education, but when it came to giving da'wah, I was all stammers, blank face, and baffled stares. In a way, I knew everything (not even) and nothing at the same time. But anyway, I digress; if you wanna read a little more about my experience at Marist, just click here.
Entering college was just another step on the journey. I liked the college atmosphere much better than I did the high school one. People were more mature, less judgmental, all that good stuff. And in the occasional event someone did make a snide remark about my hijab, the first few weeks at Marist had already hardened me against that, and I didn't respond with anger or tears; I was more rational, alhamdulilah. Hijab did that for me; it showed me the real world and it made me stronger, and above all, it made me fall in love with my deen over and over again.
Walking into a lecture hall on the first day of classes and seeing another hijabi is a very comforting feeling, you men don't even know. It's like I automatically have a friend in the class, because it's totally cool for me to go and sit next to her, smile, and introduce myself. She'd automatically know that I chose to sit next to her because she was also wearing the hijab, and it wouldn't be something weird. It's like the hijabi code. That's part of the reason why hijabi's tend to "flock" together. We're all on the same journey, and yet, we're on different ones. It's really somethin' else.
Hijab has made me a better person, too. If my years at Marist taught me anything, it's that if you wear the hijab, you're automatically labeled as a Muslim. I mean, it's different with men and the Sunnah beards, because that's not necessarily exclusive to the Islamic faith. Hijab, on the other hand, is. My hijab is the reason I make sure to take the extra few seconds to hold the door open for someone. My hijab is the reason I'm patient with rude people and women drivers (joke, ha ha). My hijab is the reason I really try to bite my tongue when I'm angry. My hijab is the reason I volunteer to do things even though I reeeeally don't want to (y'know, to get the image out there that Muslims aren't complete hermits).
My hijab is a constant reminder of who I am, and of the religion I am following. It has done nothing but improve my character. But you wanna know somethin' else? My hijab changes the people around me, too. Sometimes a classmate will refrain from cracking a dirty joke around me because I'm Muslim (as evidenced by my hijab). Sometimes people will apologize profusely when they curse in front of me for the same reason. My hijab has taught me to respect my religion, and myself. And consequently, when you have respect for yourself, people start having respect for you, too.
Hijab is so beautiful, just absolutely beautiful, and I can't see a hijabi as anything but the reflection of that. Is it really a wonder why I get so aggravated when girls use sub par analogies to describe their hijab? Enough with the "hijab is like a shell, and a hijabi is the pearl" nonsense. We can do so much better than that!
Makes me that much stronger,
Makes me work a little bit harder,
It makes me that much wiser,
So thanks for making me a fighter.
Made me learn a little bit faster,
Made my skin a little bit thicker,
Makes me that much smarter,
So thanks for making me a fighter.
 |
| I love my hijab, alhamdulilah. |
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