Photo by Reuters
The main question I’ve been asked since I became a Muslim has been, “How do you reconcile being a Muslim with being a feminist?” The answer is complex and I won’t go into all of it today. But one part of the answer is that any woman can be a feminist, if being one means that you want to see women find self-fulfillment on whatever path they choose to travel. That doesn’t mean that every journey is easy. Certainly if you come from a culture where women have been traditionally marginalized and you want to continue to be a part of that culture, you’re going to find the going tough. Does that mean that you shouldn’t try? No, but it might mean that you have to weigh your options carefully and be sure of your convictions before you proceed.
I decided to write about this today because of an article by Tracy Clark-Flory I ran across on Salon.com in its Broadsheet department: “Muslims protest sexism with prayer.” In it Clark-Flory recounts the story of Muslim women who dared to pray on the main floor of a mosque in Washington, D.C. Why is that a big deal? For one thing, they were praying with the men and not behind a partition in an area reserved for women. For another thing, they risked arrest to do so. I would say that this is Muslim feminism in action, whether or not these women would identify themselves as feminists.
What is my take on their actions? While I haven’t prayed often in a mosque (yet), when I have, I’ve been relegated to the women’s room along with the other women. The main negative feeling I had was irritation, because it was sometimes hard to hear what was being said on the main floor (which of course is the men’s area) and as a result, it was also hard to feel that I was a part of what was going on, which after all, is supposed to be a communal act of prayer. At the same time, it didn’t bother me all that much because of the feeling of sisterhood I had from being there with the other women. Not to mention that I was more intent on getting my own prayers right than on where I was praying.
One Muslim man once told me that women make too much noise during prayer and that’s one reason why men don’t want them praying in the same room. But maybe women tend to be noisy because they don’t take what they’re doing as seriously as the men do, exactly because the men don’t take what the women do as seriously. What does it really matter if the women make a little noise if they’re not even supposed to be there? (There are a few mosques that don’t allow women to even enter the building.) Then there is the problem of children who are of course with the women (at least until the boys are considered old enough to pray with the men). Children tend to be noisy, too, but the men don’t have to and don’t want to deal with that. They don’t want anything to distract them from their prayers.
Women are also considered to be distractions because they might cause the men to think impure thoughts when they’re supposed to be praying. I get that. Women can be distracted by men as well. If the goal is total concentration, then there is something to be said for the separation of the sexes during prayer. Having said that, I don’t see why adults can’t be trusted to try harder to keep their minds on Allah instead of on each other. Then again, one of the things that attracted me to Islam is that it is so pragmatic about human nature. We do tend to get distracted, pretty easily as a matter of fact. So why make it harder for us to concentrate?
I’m still a feminist, so now I’m a Muslim feminist. That doesn’t mean that I advocate crashing the men’s prayers. I don’t think at all badly of women who sincerely feel that their spiritual lives are made fuller by being able to pray in the main hall of the mosque. I may be one of them someday. But for now I’m content to follow my path to spiritual fulfillment. And to concentrate on my prayers, without distractions.
Put this on YOUR blog!
To publicize National Women and Girls HIV/AIDS Awareness Day (which is tomorrow, March 10th), two women, Karyn of The Fabulous Giver and Luvvie of Awesomely Luvvie, came up with the idea of the Red Pump Project. The concept is simple: Rock the Red Pump on your blog to represent the strength and courage of women fighting HIV/AIDS or affected by the disease both directly and indirectly. By inserting their logo on your blog, you help to spread the word about this worthy cause.
The Red Pump Project wants people to be informed and to take action. While progress has definitely been made in the areas of AIDS prevention and treatment (note that there is no cure), women still represent 27% of all new AIDS diagnoses, with African-American women accounting for 66% of that total. (That’s just in America. In Africa, AIDS strikes far more women than men: 75% of all Africans between the ages of 15 and 24 who are HIV-positive are women.*)
To sign up for future information and/or get a widget to put on your blog, go here.
* Source here.
Woman wearing a hijab
A hijabi is a term for a Muslim woman who wears the hijab, or headscarf. I believe that it is important to see the women beneath the headscarves and “The Hijabi Monologues” are one way to accomplish that.
The following announcement only applies to the Columbus, Ohio performances in April but I’m including it here because that’s where I’m from and because I wanted to alert my readers to the existence of “The Hijabi Monologues.” If you want to know more about “The Hijabi Monologues”—maybe even bring them to your area—see the information below.
ANNOUNCEMENT
Try-outs are being held on March 31, 2010 at the Ohio State University for performers to participate in “The Hijabi Monologues.” There is also a need for organizers, writers, photographers and so on. (See full list of positions available here.) Please note: You do not need to be Muslim to participate!
What are “The Hijabi Monologues”? They are a take-off on Eve Ensler’s “The Vagina Monologues.” The difference between them is that “The Vagina Monologues” takes something private and makes it public and “The Hijabi Monologues” take something public (the hijabs, or headcoverings) and show us the private lives of the women who wear them.
Go to the OSU website for more information about the Columbus, Ohio performances as well as links to other performances which have taken place elsewhere. Any questions or concerns should sent to the email address: HijabiMonologues.OSU@gmail.com
To RSVP go the the Hijabi Monologues at OSU page on Facebook. For more information about the Monologues themselves, there is another Facebook page here.
The video below is an interview with some of the people involved in “The Hijabi Monologues.”
Artwork from Artivism
One of my favorite sites and resources is Feminist Review. In the last three and a half years it has published nearly 3,500 reviews of current books, films, music, theater performances, eco-friendly clothing, and a whole host of other products. They’ve run interviews with prominent feminists Ariel Gore, Victoria Law, Rebecca Walker, the creators of Make/Shift, Jennifer Baumgardner, and Amy Richards—as well as some artists and activists you may not have heard of before. If reading Feminist Review inspires you to read a novel or download an album, consider donating to their I ♥ FR Campaign today. There is no better month than Women’s History Month to give to feminist media.
In its own words:
“Feminist Review believes that all opinions – positive and critical – are valuable and seeks to give voice to communities that remain on the margins. Our mission is to write reviews from feminist perspectives to explore the world through an anti-oppression lens. We recognize that there are many feminisms and provide a space where those differences can be represented and explored. (That means we want you to add your opinions too.)”
Colleen O'Connor's grandmother Catherine Shinnick is in the back row, middle. (Photo Courtesy of Frances S. O'Connor and Marcella Cate)
“Every family has a photograph. Every photograph tells a story. And every story is part of American history—your history.” So writes columnist Colleen O’Connor in her March 1st article for the San Diego News Network. She starts out by describing a family photograph of seven sisters, one of whom was her maternal grandmother:
“Impressed by the genteel, aristocratic bearing of the seven women in the picture, I remember thinking how pampered they all looked, posing together for a formal photograph in their elegant white dresses, each one pinned with an exquisite brooch. So 19th century. So refined. So insulated. “
The photo inspired her to find out what she could about these women. What she discovered was that her initial impression had been dead wrong.
“My grandmother and her six sisters, were farmers, seamstresses, and survivalists. They homesteaded in their own names. They rode horses, raised turkeys, cows and sheep. They cooked for large crews of farm hands, sewed their own clothes—including the dresses in the photograph—and several were crack shots with a rifle! In addition, my grandmother held suffragette meetings on her farm. After women won the right to vote, my great Aunt Mary, fought against the state’s poll tax and won. Men avoided the tax by substituting a day of work, but women were prohibited from that alternative—until Aunt Mary.”
“…these women in the photograph started me on a journey that brought history alive,” O’Connor writes. She then lists ten steps which will help anyone have the same experience:
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