Rukhsana Khan's Blog, page 3

Shutting out Distractions…

I love that serenity prayer:

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference. “

The older I get the more I realize the only thing I can change is myself.

My attitude.

The work I choose to focus on.

Last night I re-watched The Rescuers. It’s a little silly, two mice trying to save a little girl from horrible kidnappers, but I found myself breaking down and crying.

I don’t think I did that when I was younger.

The poor little girl is so stoic in the face of horrendous abuse. The casual things that over the top villain says to her…just broke my heart because I know that kids are subjected to comments like that.

It made me want to reach out to all the poor abused and orphaned kids in the world, gather them up in my arms–as if I could–and promise to take care of them.

Yeah right.

I can barely just keep my own work up to date.

And I’m getting older.

Pretty soon I’ll be 58 and there are times that I feel it.

And despite trying not to let the outside world and what I can’t control get me down–I was genuinely saddened when the Senate refused to hold Trump accountable for his extortion of Ukraine for his own political ends.

In three and a half years have we really come this far? Where evil has become this brazen?

It’s been fascinating to watch the fabric of our society, the social norms and values we took for granted, crumble in the face of dysfunction and reveal how easily people sell their souls for a few dollars.

It’s been illuminating especially with regards to one of my works in progress. I’m currently mired in the year 1828, dealing with the election of Andrew Jackson over John Quincy Adams and darn it if isn’t similar to what’s happening today.

I read a quote recently from someone who lamented about that famous saying, “Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it.” But those who do learn from history are doomed to watch helplessly as it is being repeated.

That’s where we’re at. And how do we keep our sanity? How do we keep from getting depressed?

The way I do it is again, focus on what I can change.

Little steps.

And isn’t it interesting that in our scriptures God says that the actions that are most beloved to Him are those that even if they are small, they’re done consistently.

It’s no coincidence that the most popular movies for many years now are based on superheroes. Superheroes do ‘grand’ acts. They’re huge gestures, saving the world, spectacular.

Spectacle is not hard.

It’s the daily grind that is hard. It’s the thankless task of raising a child that is hard.

Everyone these days wants to be a superhero, with accolades and people who worship them! Asthaghfirullah!

It’s ego, ego, ego, and it’s very hard not to get caught up in it.

Twitter, Facebook, instagram and all social media is designed for likes and popularity and it’s hard to be an author and not feel obliged to get involved. It feels like you’re getting left behind.

And yet I will resist.

And I will persist.

There’s really not much choice for anything else.

All we can do is what good lies within our grasp and I believe there are good reasons we are not given more power than we have, perhaps the power would lead us astray.

Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Pardon all the platitudes today. I’m just feeling very pensive.

Now back to work.

1828, what an interesting year in American history that was!!!

New Decade same struggles…

For anyone who might have been waiting for a new blog post, sorry for taking so long to deliver.

Life has been way more than frenetic. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends in that during the day I’ve been writing the adult novel and at about midnight to 3 am I’ve been working on the graphic novel.

It’s funny how things work. Opportunities don’t always pan out and we have to live with that.

It’s weird how I’m looking at all the stuff happening in the world with a feeling of horror and dismay.

Just makes me want to retreat into the shell of my being and focus on what I can do: write!

Recently I caught part of a documentary on Billy Wilder. He that produced/directed Sunset Boulevard. Apparently he went through his own heyday with the peak of his career: Some Like it Hot.

The documentary was mostly narrated by German people so there were subtitles and one of them said an interesting thing, that Billy Wilder understood Americana because he was looking at it from the outside.

So fascinating.

But towards the end it seems Hollywood changed and he lost his touch and he became his own version of Norma Desmond, trying to recapture that je ne sais quoi that made his work so appealing.

It was a depressing documentary, and yet I couldn’t stop watching.

And also recently had a family member go for umrah and I asked her to pray for fame and fortune for me, and then another family member said that people who want fame and fortune shouldn’t get it because it will change them.

And over the months I’ve dealt with that very phenomenon, very painfully I might add, where a person I thought I knew well has changed for those very reasons.

It made me rethink the whole fame and fortune thing.

And surprisingly it’s been a relief.

I don’t want it any more. If it comes…well I’ll manage but I will no longer seek it.

I’ve always been very grateful that despite all odds I’ve been able to make a comfortable living at my craft.

I’ve done very well masha Allah. No complaints.

What I can do now is go back to what really matters…the story! I’m wrestling with two of them right now, hence the burning the candle at both ends.

I LOVE them both! Don’t know if they’ll see the light of day. Don’t know if they’ll even be published, but they call me. And that’s all that matters right now.

I’m in the midst of taking care of the family, (just finished watching the granddaughters for about nine days!) and now I’ve got a stretch with not too many public commitments, where I can double down on the works in progress.

Last decade was amazing. Let’s see what comes.

Thoughts about Loyalty and Lethargy…

I feel like a veritable veteran of writing these days. I’ve been writing for 30+ years and published for more than 20.

It’s been an extremely tumultuous few weeks and I guess it’s all been too much for my immune system and I’m down with a nasty cold. But I thought I should get down my thoughts as they might be of use to someone–you never know.

It’s very interesting how the concept of loyalty plays out in this field. When I first began authors were encouraged to be loyal to one publisher. We were told that it makes ordering our titles much easier, plus if a publisher feels invested in you, then they will show you preferential treatment in terms of working towards developing your career.

That idea of loyalty might very well have become extinct with the dinosaurs. Loyalty to a publisher does not necessarily mean the sentiment will be reciprocated.

Publishing is a business after all, and there are always new and upcoming authors.

What has happened is that publishers are often more willing to take a chance on a new face than invest in someone who’s established a track record. Publishers are always looking for the breakout success. The mega bestseller, and they seem to feel that’s more likely with someone new than someone who’s been around a while and has been developing their craft.

Ever since the economic crash of 2008, it’s been a publisher’s market. Even established authors are finding it hard to get their work published because publishers would rather take their chances on someone new.

It’s like they look at you and think you’ve come as far as you can.

I’m not complaining. One thing I’ve come to realize is that sometimes you need this type of competition to spur you on to greater effort. My motto is ‘rejection is part of the process’. You need to get rejected in order to spur you to greater heights!

There’s been a blossoming of Muslim authors and talent! Almost every major publisher has taken on a new Muslim author and it thrills me that such diversity is in the works. Gone is the idea that the Muslim community is a monolith. We now have books that show Muslims come in all shapes, hues, sexualities and sizes!

It all started with Salaam Reads at Simon & Schuster and other publishers quickly jumped on board.

How many of the new Muslim authors will be able to make a career out of it is another matter.

Social media is awash with their tweets promoting their books and urging their followers to pre-order all in the desperate hopes of creating some sort of momentum for their precarious careers.

Just observing it all is exhausting!

I’m old enough to remember door to door salesmen. I remember a vacuum cleaner salesmen knocking on my parents’ door and eventually selling them a vacuum that had the body shape of a mouse. As well as an encyclopedia salesman who sold them a set of encyclopedias that looked good but largely went unread. New authors have basically become their publishers’ ‘door to door’ sales force.

Hawking their books like vendors at a flea market, they each try to yell louder than the other, all for a dwindling pool of avid readers.

The publishers take their chance on their new authors, hoping for a breakout book, and watch them go out and build a social media platform that effectively helps promote their publishing brand all in the hopes of capturing a share of a diminishing market.

People are not reading as much as they used to. There are more and more authors and it seems fewer and fewer opportunities.

It really is to the publishers’ advantage. They have the power. There is a plethora of authors trying to get published, the new and upcoming along with those who are established, and they can pick and choose.

So there is no loyalty.

This is where my faith comes in handy. I really do believe that whatever is meant for me will come to me, my providence is already set, I only have to make the effort to go out and earn it.

And when setbacks occur, as they must, I look for new avenues.

I remember when I was kicked out of a writing class I had paid to join. Although very painful at the time, it turned out to be the best thing that could have happened to me.

I would have started writing to please that group, not realizing that these were not ‘my people’. These were not the people who ‘get me’. And I had to think bigger.

Recently I suffered another setback of the sort.

Like the writing class incident, I had been loyal to an entity that didn’t really get me. Many people had told me to move on. Finally things came to a head and I realized that yes, indeed, I needed to move on. Find other people who do get me. Was it loyalty or lethargy? Perhaps the latter. I was too comfortable in the routine to let it go easily, even though it had long since stopped serving my interests.

I look at all these new authors just beginning the journey as writers and I wish I could advise them, give them the benefit of my experience.

At the beginning, you need to cultivate your craft, figure out how to package your story in a way that appeals to mainstream readers but eventually, when you get good at that, you have to cultivate what you’re trying to say, because eventually you can’t just repackage old tropes and story lines with Muslim characters and think that will do any good. That’s just imitation.

We don’t need a Muslim Harry Potter.

We need to be brave and original.

And that takes courage.

And when you’re truly brave and original you risk a LOT of rejection. Be prepared for that. It’s scary to let go and venture out on your own trying to find people who get what you’re trying to do. But eventually it’s worth it.

And always remember rejection can be a good thing.

Rejection is part of the process.

What a difference a few months make…

Just reread my previous post on rejection and wow, have things changed.

It’s been a very hard summer!

Not restful in the least and in fact last spring was also very busy. In fact, darn it! The whole year has been extremely busy!

Projects, projects and more projects including a song/story video in the works that makes me laugh out loud and through it all I’ve been dealing with the disintegration of a friendship, and now, how many months later, I am finally starting to feel better about it.

I had said in my previous post about rejection that I’ve never been the one doing the rejection. I think that might have changed this time around.

I am in fact moving on.

It might indeed be me doing the rejecting. I’m just not willing to accept certain behavior from others that was quite disrespectful.

And I’m starting to suspect that it’s a very good thing indeed!

The world had felt constricted. My options limited, the future dismal and empty of possibilities and now, with a different perspective under my belt, I’m seeing that all it took was a change of angles.

I’ve been struggling for years now with stories I feel compelled to write and yet every incarnation I’ve produced has stymied me. The narratives come out clunky and gauche to the point I thought I’d lost my touch.

What I’ve learned over the last few months is that sometimes it’s not the story. Sometimes it’s the format!

How you tell the story is as important as what the story is about, and yup, I needed to re-envision the projects into a different format.

No wonder everything was coming out awkward.

It has made all the difference! I’m excited to revisit these projects! In fact I have so many ideas that need revisiting it’s a matter of time.

Which is why I haven’t tended the blog much lately.

Priorities.

But the next little while looks very exciting to me.

And like I said in that post about rejection: pain can become rebirth. God knows best.

Rejection sure aint fun but it’s been SO good for me!

I’ve always said that in writing, rejection is part of the process.

If your stories don’t get rejected, chances are you won’t get better, it’s as simple as that.

The first products your imagination comes up with tend to be derivative. Something your subconscious remembers. The brain, like anyone, doesn’t work harder than it has to.

So when you get rejected, it forces your brain to dig deeper, unearth the truths and concepts you’ve been wrestling with and forge them into something new and interesting.

Pain does indeed beget growth.

In my life I’ve had moments of key rejection. There was the guy I had a terrible crush on who rejected me when I proposed to him…instead I got my husband who turned out to be way better! Alhamdu lillah!

There was that writing teacher who kicked me out of his writing class who intimated that I was hopeless…I went on to get my first five books published.

There was one of my best writing friends who broke off our friendship…I went on to write some of my best books.

And now years later there’s another best friend with whom I’ve become strained…and again I’ve gone on to write some incredible material.

I’m coming to the conclusion that God knows best.

It’s never been me to reject people. At least I don’t think so. Never is a strong word. I might be wrong.

I’ve heard that when someone rejects you, they’re doing you a favor.

And I believe that.

But it hurts.

It hurts bad.

And through pain comes art.

I will survive this, Insha Allah.

And the funny thing is the people who are closest to me: my parents, my family, who’ve known me all their lives, tend to be the ones who love me the most.

And that means something.

You should always be most gentle to your family and the ones closest to you.

Stand by your convictions, what you know is right and avoid the wrong.

And always always be true to yourself.

I’ve been fortunate in that.

And four people rejecting me in 57 years of being alive, maybe that’s not actually that bad.

Allahu Alim.

Onward ho!

The Single Story

Had a very interesting conversation over the weekend with a lady originally from India. We were talking about The Breadwinner.

I have a complicated relationship with this book.

When it first came out, I hated it. Still do. Kind of.

But…I really like the author Deborah Ellis and I think she had the best of intentions in writing it.

The fact that she donated all the proceeds of the Breadwinner books to Women for Women Afghanistan just shows where her heart lies. She is not like other authors who have profited off the misery of others.

She genuinely wanted to help.

And…the fact is…girls dressing up as boys in Afghanistan happens. Quite a bit. The patriarchal system there has gotten so complicated that people figure it’s easier to just dress up a girl, mess with her identity, and have her do the things we need a son to do, then to change the mentality of people to accept the empowerment of girls (as girls).

It’s messed up.

When I first read The Breadwinner what struck me most was that it, like that dreadful hubris Shabanu, also written by a white woman, plunked down this cultural North American mindset girl in an exotic Muslim setting and the only solution the white author could come up with is for the girl to dress up as a boy and run away. What does that say about Muslim culture? And Muslim girls growing up within that culture?

Both authors failed to establish the cultural nuances of the society they were writing about.

And the author of Shabanu profited handsomely from it! (Grrr. Don’t get me started!)

The Indian lady I was talking to said, “What’s wrong with it though? Those things do happen there?”

And I’ve been thinking all weekend of what it is that really bothers me.

She’s right. Those things do happen in that culture.

But when you have a book like that, The Breadwinner, and it gets picked up by Angelina Jolie and turned into a movie that’s up for an Oscar, then you run the risk of such a story defining Afghan culture, the way The Kite Runner defines it for adults.

And you get the impression of ‘well that’s Afghan culture’ when it isn’t.

It would be like a story about drug addiction and youth homelessness and prostitution being touted abroad as defining Canadian culture.

Does it happen?

Of course! It’s even rampant! Our young people are in terrible crisis!

But does that define what being Canadian is?

Emphatically! No!

There’s nothing wrong with telling such stories but the risk becomes, as Chimamanda N’gozi Adichi says, that it becomes the singular story about the culture. And it portrays Afghans as victims of their own cultural insecurities.

I have become resigned to the fact that the Breadwinner has become a major text, taught and revered within the school system. I have become resigned to the fact that it is universally appalling, even to children of Afghan backgrounds.

And it compelled me to write Wanting Mor, almost as a rebuttal of sorts. The fact that the same publisher published both of them, and even felt obligated for the sake of accuracy to do so, is a testament to how change comes about.

And something else occurred to me.

Even as my own humble (and dare I say more culturally accurate) attempts at writing our stories have failed to reach the same acclaim as the Breadwinner and other stories, I realized something the other day.

The Roses in My Carpets (about my Afghan refugee foster child) has been in publication for more than twenty years. It led me to writing Wanting Mor, and that has been in publication for more than ten years.

Both books still earn significant royalties after so many years!!!

For The Roses in My Carpets, the royalties have always gone towards helping other refugee children, and we’re talking about $300 per year.

For Wanting Mor, it’s a lot more than that!

How many authors can say that about books that are that old?

It means that there’s still a significant population out there who believes in them.

I’ve always believed that all I need to do is keep writing, keep getting better, and eventually one book will break through so that all of a sudden people will reexamine all my body of work.

Big Red Lollipop has definitely been a huge success! Nine years and counting and the royalties are much higher!

But I’m talking mega success. I’m still striving towards that.

It’ll happen insha allah, but in the mean time all I can do is my best to tell more than just the single story!

The Fallacy of Sports…

My family is unusual. Me, I am the sports fan whereas my husband could care less. It was one of the things I admired about him when we got married. He wasn’t into watching sports. So it is above ironic that I became the sports person.

I see it as halal entertainment. There’s nothing kinky that’s going to happen, it’s just a game, good clean fun. And when your team wins, it feels like I’ve won, even though I know I haven’t. I didn’t *do* anything. They did.

I remember my older sister, who died, saying how she loved renovating the house, painting the kitchen, creating art on her dressers and furniture and when I asked her why she said, “I’m always working on big huge projects that take years and years to happen. It’s nice doing a home project and seeing the finished results.”

I told myself that I kind of see sports like that. Here I am working on projects that take years and years to get to fruition. A sports event is self-contained. It might take the players years and years of training and conditioning to play, but the result is decided in a limited amount of time. Doesn’t matter who’s the better player, sometimes luck comes through and the underdog wins.

It’s exciting!

A while back I was talking to my granddaughters while we sat on the sofa watching the Raptors game and I had to mute the commercials. It occurred to me it was a teachable moment. I can’t remember what the commercial was for, but I asked my granddaughters what do you think this little commercial is trying to do.

It’s so important when dealing with children to tease the thinking out of them. If you rush in and just tell them that commercials are designed to manipulate the viewer into wanting the product, the effect is limited. Instead it’s good to ask leading questions. So I asked my seven year old granddaughter, “These companies pay lots of money to air this commercial during this game. Why do you think they do that?”

And in that moment I saw the little wheels starting to turn inside her mind. Then I told her, “Look at the way the people on screen are behaving. What do you think they’re trying to say?”

And she looked up at me and said, “That they’re having fun?”

“Yup. And why do you think they’re trying to show that?”

“So that we want to have fun too?”

“Yup and why are they doing that?”

“So that we buy that thing?”

“Yes.”

And even while we were enjoying the Raptors game I leaned over and whispered, “You know, it doesn’t make sense for us to be watching this game. We’re using our time to watch a bunch of grown men play with a ball. It doesn’t mean anything.”

And my son in law, who’s a basketball fan looked over at me while I continued, “This is just a game. If they win it doesn’t give me anything and if they lose it doesn’t take anything away from me.”

She nodded.

But then I added, “But I still like it anyway.”

My husband laughed at me and accused me of praying for the Raptors to win and I admitted that I had.

The Prophet (peace be upon him) used to pray to God for help to even fix the fastening of his sandal. We are encouraged to pray for everything. God has everything, He wants us to ask. So yeah, I prayed and prayed that the Raptors won and then they did.

Am I fool enough to go down for the parade? Nope. But I knew people who were going down there and I was worried.

I’m a fan, but I have my own work to do, and as I saw the incredible crowds I became afraid and I prayed for a different reason. I asked God, “Oh please don’t let any terrorism happen to ruin the moment!” And alhamdu lillah, no terrorism happened but there was a shooting and a stabbing and some people got hurt.

The Raptor players were showering the fans with champagne, and I’m sure the day being hot people were drinking and with alcohol comes a great deal of foolishness.

Some investigator came on and said that when this kind of thing happens it’s usually targeted. A person who wants to kill a certain someone might go down during a huge event like that because they might feel the crowds give them cover. And I thought how despicable is that?

Toronto has become such a large city that this type of violence is to be expected.

And just recently in Denver some parents watching their seven year olds play baseball got so furious at a thirteen year old umpire’s call they started beating each other up.

We tend to identify so much with our teams that we invest so much in their winning that we can react like this??? What is wrong with us?

Are seven year olds any less if they lose? And what have they really won anyway?

Whatever happened to ‘It doesn’t matter if you win or lose it’s how you play the game?’

I remember as a kid wishing and wishing I’d win stuff. The speech arts competition, baseball games, soccer. I tell kids I never ever won a speech arts competition and yet now that’s what I do for a living! And yet a friend of mine who had won can’t speak in public any more because of social anxiety!

I’m seriously reconsidering my fan experience.

I still believe there’s nothing wrong with relaxing and watching a game, but I’m going to try to keep myself a bit more detached. Keep perspective.

The real win is a story that can help and inspire the lives of children and adults to be better people!

And a story like that, can last forever!

What are We Telling Our Kids?

I’m really worried about this next generation of children.

In response to serious abuse from some nefarious teachers (that absolutely had to be dealt with!) we’ve really undermined the whole system.

As an author/storyteller, when I go into a school I’m fully aware that most of the children have no intention of following my line of work. So in crafting my presentations I decided to focus on ideas that might help them and things they should care about.

Yes, they get to hear about how I became an author and about the creative process, and about literacy, but I wonder if the real ‘message’ in many of my presentations is ‘Don’t lose your sense of wonder!’ and ‘Life is a journey with the good and the bad, ride it out!’

Even while I’m getting really tired of what I might charitably call ‘grievance’ literature (and when I’m feeling less charitable I call ‘wah wah’ lit) which consists of stories where the main character complains for the entirety of the story. I’m wondering if constantly portraying marginalized groups as victims is doing them any favors. And I’m wondering if this victim narrative isn’t contributing to a sense of entitlement.

Life isn’t fair.

I don’t believe it is meant to be. (That’s what I believe the day of Judgment is for–to address all the wrongs we’ve ever experienced.)

What we need to do, as individuals, is navigate the unfairness that is the world, in the best way possible. And–to influence the people we encounter towards reaching their higher selves.

It’s not about acquiring stuff–although there’s nothing wrong with having a comfortable lifestyle. As long as there’s a roof over our heads and food in the fridge we should count ourselves lucky.

It’s not about fame or showing off. It’s about living a life of integrity and contributing to the greater good. When we do that, we can’t help but increase our self-esteem because I believe then and only then, do we absolutely believe that we are worthy of it.

We can try to fool ourselves with pep talks like the self-help gurus say, but don’t you think deep down we realize that if we’re only ever working in our own selfish interests we’re not really good after all? At some level don’t we see through the platitudes?

Our schools seem to be turning into an area of false positivity and I think the children know it.

But what do we do about that? Honestly I don’t know.

Some kids thrive on it because it mirrors what they hear at home, but there are others…poor things, in whom it creates a sort of disconnect. An idealized version of reality that they know full well that they’ll never have access to.

With all the reassurances they receive, the validation of their intersectional identities, it seems our children these days are more anxious and depressed than ever.

What can we do about it?

I’m thinking we should start telling them the truth.

But where to begin…I’m not sure of that either.

In a CNN article “Since 2007, the rate of suicide deaths among children between the ages of 10 and 14 has doubled,…”

And for years Canada has had the fifth highest rate of child suicide in the world! In the world!!!!

We are failing our children!

And we need to fix our approach before it’s too late.

We need to train them to be resilient. But how?

That’s the question.

Perception is Reality…

This is something Dr. Phil would always say on his show and I wasn’t exactly sure what it meant.

Thing about getting older though is that you have a chance to see perceptions change.

What was acceptable at one time can change over the ages and I guess I was a weird kid because I used to wonder about that even in my teens.

I guess it comes from being marginalized, living in a culture that isn’t approved of by the majority.

I was constantly bombarded with mainstream perceptions and while I agreed with many of their conclusions I didn’t agree with them all. I experienced them through media all the time. I could understand why the mainstream culture thought and felt the way they did. And then when I went home it was a different paradigm, with a different set of rules and they made sense too within their context.

This is what it is to live in a marginalized society and in a way we’re all marginalized.

But really we’re like the blind men, touching different parts of the elephant. We can only perceive the reality of our limited experience. And when you understand everyone is in the same boat, it makes it easier to be tolerant.

Or…it’s like thinking of the visible spectrum of light being the only forms of light that actually exist. Not taking into account that it’s only a tiny slice of it! There is so much more beyond our ability to comprehend. And people could be focused on different aspects of the spectrum.

Ever since I was young, I wanted to perceive what was beyond my reality. I wanted to know what other people knew to be true.

I wanted to understand WHY they thought and believed so differently. I wanted to examine what I believed in light of what they believed and see if my beliefs held up.

I remember asking my Mom what the world looked like through her eyes. I even wondered if she saw the same things that I did.

And when you start forcing yourself into perspectives that are not always comfortable to you, it really changes you.

It’s like travel.

It broadens the mind.

It kills prejudice.

Even when someone acts in a belligerent way, you can see past the rudeness, the hurt, at what they might really be saying. Because what’s really happening is not always a result of something you’ve said or done. Oh, often it is, but sometimes it can be about something else and have nothing to do with you.

But it could be a part of their perception of their own reality.

I find it so fascinating!

But…there can be a big problem with thinking like this too.

It can mean you get misinterpreted because you are following an unusual line of reasoning.

You’re not always in lock step with the rest of society. And that can lead to ruffled feathers and missteps.

Seems I’ve been guilty of these lately.

If I’ve offended people, I do apologize. It was not my intention.

Still figuring things out.

Politicizing the Hijab…

I have found that it is never a good idea to write a post when I’m angry. And boy am I angry.

And yet, I’m so angry that I feel I need to address this or else… (I don’t know, dire consequences?) Anyway, at the risk of doing something stupid I will write this while my blood is still boiling.

I can’t believe that a tenet of the Islamic faith, the hijab (and women’s dress) has become so political!

That a simple act of faith can be turned into a cudgel to smack women around regarding whether or not they’re ‘truly Muslim’.

First of all, it is NOBODY’S business how a woman dresses. If she covers, if she lays bare, a woman’s dress is an expression of her personality and is entirely up to the individual.

But just like freedom of speech is a right, it doesn’t mean it’s without consequences. What you say will definitely be JUDGED.

And like it or not people are judged by what they wear and that is doubly true for women. People will make assumptions about you and you will have to deal with them. Might not be fair, but it’s just the way it is. Suck it up buttercup.

I have been living with this ever since I donned the hijab forty years ago, long before it was ‘cool’, back in 1979.

It was a REALLY hard decision for me!

I had found out that the hijab was mandatory in the summer of 1978 when friends of mine showed me the verse in the Quran which tells the believing women to draw their veils over their chest and not to display any of their beauty except what should appear naturally.

I grew up in a Pakistani family.

Nobody wore hijab!

We would put on a flimsy scarf when we had to pray but otherwise we ran around bare headed!

I had come across that verse umpteen times but somehow had never really understood what it called for, and when I did understand it, I felt immediately that I had to comply.

I thought, “Now that I know, I am accountable! What if I die tomorrow? How can I face God? Will I say that I feared what the people in this stupid rinky dink town thought of me more than I feared displeasing Him?”

These were the thoughts that ran through my head.

I wanted to put it on immediately. Problem was, I was sixteen, living in my father’s house, and he forbade it.

As a result, I didn’t start wearing hijab until a few months after I got married. I was still living at home but my father said that since I was a married woman I belonged to my husband now and he couldn’t stop me. Hubby said it was my choice. Ironic!

It was still VERY VERY hard to start wearing it! And I hesitated, now that I could. I thought wouldn’t it make more sense to start when I moved to Toronto since these people had already seen me with my hair? But eventually I got to a point where I couldn’t stand it any longer, so yeah, I put it on.

A woman’s hair is a very important part of her beauty. And God knows best why He required this element of Islamic faith, but I think perhaps it’s so that women will focus less on the power of their beauty and more on the power of their thoughts.

As soon as I started wearing hijab I got all kinds of flack from my sisters and family. “Oh you think you’re better than us!” “You think you’re so much more righteous!”

I checked myself. Did I? Did I really look down upon them for not wearing it? And I decided that yeah, I did. Sort of. Self-righteousness seems to be a phase a lot of people go through. I know I did.

When you make such a big step as donning a hijab, setting yourself apart, opening yourself up to harassment and ridicule, the first instinct is to yeah, be a little proud of your strength of conviction. That pride is a HUGE sin! It’s Satan leading you astray.

Wearing hijab is ONE aspect of being Muslim. It’s NOT the be-all and end-all. It’s only ONE thing you’re doing right, and if you’re doing it for the wrong intention, then it’s not even that!

I had to check my ego, many many times, to the point where alhamdu lillah, I don’t see the hijab as something that makes me superior to anyone any more.

It really is just my attempt to obey God. Basically I’m too busy worrying about my flaws to pay too much attention to it. The hijab is just something I check off as yup, done that! There’s plenty I still need to work on!

When I meet other Muslim women who don’t wear it, the fact that they don’t wear it doesn’t bother me in the least.

But now…all of a sudden the hijab is HOT? Really? You gotta be kidding me!

When I started writing more than thirty years ago, with my hijab, with my Islamic way of dressing I struggled to reach past it. To show people that even though I have this cloth on my head, I really can tell some pretty good stories that they might possibly like.

But I felt like a complete weirdo! I’d go into a conference room and sense the atmosphere of sudden tension. I wondered if the people there were wondering if I was safe to be around. Wondering if I would hurt them. (I would NOT!)

The hijab has meant sacrifices ALL MY ADULT LIFE!

It’s meant being SWEATY and unattractive in the summer heat! It’s meant I can’t let loose and let my hair feel the cooling breeze! It’s meant CONSTANTLY standing out and being OTHERED!

And I’ve born all these hardships because of my love and fear of God. He’s the one I wear it for.

But now people on the internet are bending over backwards to assure Muslim women that don’t wear the hijab that they’re Muslim too.

WHOEVER SAID THEY WEREN’T???

And even women who wear hijab are bending over backwards to assure them that they’re valid???

Huh???

It’s always been the case that ANYONE who says the shahadah with conviction, that is, who says, “I testify that there is No god but God and Muhammad is the messenger of God”. Is a Muslim. Period!

But that said Islam in reality is a set of principles, and saying the shahadah is just the beginning!

Whether they’re a good Muslim is something else. Words are words, Islam is also based upon action.

We as Muslims are told not to judge each other. Leave that to God. Because we cannot know a person’s heart. And despite outer appearances, a person can love God more than we can know.

So hijab is an outward show, it’s not necessarily about faith.

But that said, we can observe a person’s actions.

If a person refuses to pray, that’s a very big deal. Because there are sayings of the Prophet (peace be upon him) which distinguish a believer from a disbeliever with the prayer.

My understanding is that a Muslim tries to accomplish at least all the major aspects of their faith. There are five pillars of Islam: belief, prayer, fasting, charity (zakat) and the hajj. Do these things, and you do the minimum.

For women, it is enjoined upon us to also cover ourselves except for our face and hands.

If you don’t do that, then you are disobeying an aspect of Islam.

Should I judge you on it? No! Of course not!

But the one who does incorporate this aspect to her faith has checked off a basic requirement, and the one who does not, (for whatever reason) has not.

I don’t believe you can overcompensate in some other way to make up for it. For example, you can’t say, I won’t wear hijab but I’ll give extra charity and think that you’ve evened it out. I personally don’t believe it works that way, but God knows.

It doesn’t mean the one is better than the other. It just means the one has done something the other has not.

We live in a very superficial society. Maybe all societies are superficial. Maybe that’s why God put this requirement in there, I DON’T KNOW, but anyway, like I said at the beginning, people are judged by the way they dress. It is an outward expression of your innermost being, and there are consequences.

I know for a fact that the hijab has closed many doors for me! It has put people on guard, no matter how much I tried to put them at ease.

BUT!!! More recently, as entities try to show more diversity, the hijab has also opened up doors for me, that I never would have imagined!

And now the hijab has become HOT!

And now the women who don’t wear it, but still want to identify as Muslim complain that they’re not being taken seriously blah blah blah.

They claim they’re being judged.

And if they are, well they shouldn’t be judged.

They should be taken seriously as Muslims.

But should they be surprised that the growing Muslim community demographic might gravitate instead to Muslim women who do fulfill this aspect of faith as more legitimate representatives?

No.

That is the Muslim community’s choice. And…it is understandable.

You can’t have your cake and eat it too!

That is you can’t benefit from not wearing hijab, blending into mainstream society, etc. etc. and then complain that you’re viewed as less of a Muslim.

It’s a personal choice you made and there are consequences.

You will have advantages over those of us who do wear hijab. In many ways it will be easier for you. And the grass may look greener on this side of the hijab, but believe me, it isn’t. (sorry for the mangled metaphors!)

And unfortunately, there are those who will just their hijab for political purposes, like it confers brownie points on them!

I think that’s disgusting!

And don’t even get me started on those authors who WRITE about hijab, but don’t wear it!

I think that’s even more disgusting! It’s like they’re profiting off this act of worship! I don’t like it, but hey, they’re free to write what they want.

The hijab should only ever be for one purpose. For a woman to submit to the will of God, to undermine her own beauty (and vanity) in service of her Lord.

It should never be a sign of how righteous someone is!

It should never be a sign of how good they are.

We are told that we will be rewarded according to our intentions. So a woman who wears it to prove that she’s righteous will have her reward in people thinking she’s righteous and that’s it. She will get nothing from God for it.

But if she wears it solely to please God, then her reward will be from God, on the day of Judgment.

I pray that God keeps my heart and intentions pure, and that He rewards me and all women for the sacrifices we have made towards seeking His pleasure.