Undercover Lessons in Being 'Different'

 

Toronto Star
LIFE 
Tuesday, July
30, 1996


Such a to-do about a simple piece of head covering.

The desire for anonymity is one of the reasons Muslim women cover their heads. The other reason is personal choice. That choice is under fire.

One morning, I start covering my head. I make a commitment to myself to wear it for 
one year.

My family is surprised but they support me implicitly. They know that for a Muslim woman, covering her head is not deviating from the norm, but rather the accepted thing to do.

My husband warns me not to be defensive and to wear it with pride, if I decide 
to carry it through.

My reason? A deep, spiritual longing to be visible as a Muslim woman, and to position myself in solidarity with other Muslim women who are suffering a backlash due to their choice of dress. I want to know first- hand what discrimination and stereotyping
is all about.

I come to work with my head covered. No comment. A week later, when colleagues notice that the head scarf has become a permanent fixture, some curious glances.

My boss walks by my desk, does a double take and retraces his steps.

"Is this the new look?" he asks. "Yes, it is." He continues, "Is it due to spiritual reasons?"

I explain why I have decided to cover my head. He smiles encouragingly and says,
"Good for you."

A female colleague comments, "It looks so oppressive." I suggest she use a less hackneyed term.

"Did I look oppressed when I didn't cover my head?" I ask. "No," she replies. "Maybe your perception is affected by my outward appearance." She concedes the point but is still not convinced. I'm not there to defend the cause.

To those who are genuinely interested, I spend time explaining the cause. To others, I simply say that I've discovered a new defense against UV rays or that I turned 
bald overnight.

I find that people are more accepting of the look, once they understand the conviction behind it and the fact that the decision has not been forced on me.

At the subway, a woman pointedly moves a few feet away from me. I laugh and say, "I did take a shower this morning."

She smiles sheepishly, showing surprise that I can elucidate my point in passable English. I try not to take offence when an ignoramus refuses to sit next to me. All this is a 
learning experience.

I receive mixed reactions from friends and acquaintances. Some drop me like a hot brick. Others try to change my mind for me.

The closest and most sensible ones take a little time to realize that I am still me. I have not changed. Only my outward appearance has changed.

I arrive at a job interview in my headscarf. There are many contestants, but I get the job. My new colleagues accept me without comment. I'm totally at ease with myself and the world around me.

I try to remain socially active, so that I can gauge responses. I attend my children's school functions and one child asks my son, "Why does your mother wear an earring in her nose?"

The perception of a child who is fascinated by my nose ring and unconcerned about my head covering amuses me.

On a few occasions, I'm invited as a guest speaker on a panel. When the organizers see me for the first time, they look embarrassed. I inform them gently that my head covering does not make me brain damaged. They relent and apologize.

I realize that the ones who are critical and uncomfortable are the ones with inadequate knowledge about Muslim women.

Vacationing in Bermuda and standing at a street corner, I hear someone say, "Salaam Alaikum" (the Muslim greeting meaning "peace upon you"). From my head covering, two young native Bermudians have identified me as a fellow Muslim.

I feel goose pimples along my arms and a catch in my throat. I never thought that my visual identity would be a bonus in Bermuda. I am at peace.

 

Copyright © 1996 Toronto Star, All Rights Reserved.

 

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