We all just need to chill...

Guys, what Australia is this?

"A woman has been left traumatised after her head was smashed into the side of train carriage during an apparent racial attack in Melbourne's north.

The 26-year-old victim was on an Upfield line train outbound on Thursday night when she was approached by another woman, who began hurling abusive and racist remarks.

The woman grabbed the victim by the neck and hair, and forced her head into the wall of the carriage several times.

She then pushed the victim off the train as it rolled into Batman Station in Coburg North."

Source, The Age

***

It cannot have come to this.  We're so much better than this, really, we must be.

Yes, there are terrible things happening in the Middle East, but let that not destroy us from within.

I wish I could be witty and satirical at this point, but it would only serve to sound a little bit jaded. A fellow rig guy said to me once: "the things is, you can make a terrorist joke...but we don't know if you're kidding or not."

Talk about majorly awkward.

I could focus on the negatives, and there are a lot.  Check out Media Watch's wrap up if you'd like some proof.

However, instead, I choose to focus on the fact that even though there is a lot of misinformation and hatred out there (which does not deserve traffic from my blog, no matter how meagre, so won't be linked!), there is also a lot of good.

Follow the hashtag #WISH on twitter, and check out some of the empathy and solidarity shown.

Meet some regular Aussie Muslims here.

If you're curious, check out my new favourite Tumblr that is about Sharia, PartyTilFajr. 

 ***

In other news...

A child is just about to get his first taste of Formula 1.  #SoManyFeels.  Okay, calling him a child may be a bit harsh and petulant.  The young teenager then...

The Dutch racing driver is set to become the youngest on the track during an F1 weekend, three days after his 17th birthday.

I guess there is nothing like some F1 familial pedigree to ensure your rear end gets a seat.

As much as I adore / love / live for Formula 1, there is no doubting the decadent and brazen level of nepotism and elitism that exists within its ranks.

Yet, we keep coming back...

Brisbane Times: Heightened Terror Threat a Time for Races and Religions to Unite

If you haven't seen it already, check out my piece in the Brisbane Times below.

***

It is said that dividing and conquering is an effective way to deal with an opponent.

With that in mind, the very last thing we should be doing as a community in the face of fear is become divided.

As a community, we are so much stronger than that.

They call themselves IS, and are known by a variety of names including ISIS, ISIL, or as Muslim leaders in the US have begun to refer to them, the Anti-Islamic State (AIS).

Irrespective of what its members preach, this group's actions are not Islamic, nor is it by any means an official state. Every time we refer to it as Islamic, we are actually legitimising a group which is essentially criminal in its behaviour. It is strategic and calculated in its actions, but this makes it similar to militant groups worldwide, rather than especially Islamic.

AIS was formally known as Al-Qaeda in Iraq, but it was seen as too violent even for them. The two groups are now competitors for a type of cruel dominance in the region. At its roots, support for the group is politically motivated. The area's history with Sunni and Shiites is complex to say the least, and AIS has capitalised on that tension and historic power imbalance for their own gains.

All of this has occurred half way around the world though. The question many Australians are asking is what has brought this to our doorstep, and how do we deal with it as a community?

The events of the last few days have been played over and over ad nauseam on our screens. They have shocked many. The allegations have been damning and the responses swift. In the face of all that has occurred however, it is imperative that we take a step back, reassess and regroup.

What is important to us as a nation? The concept of a fair go gets bandied about regularly as an Aussie value. So although there have been raids based on information that security forces have intercepted, if we really are about giving each other a fair go then we will treat those arrested as innocent until proven guilty. Although we may be frightened, there has to be a level of trust and support in the justice system and its capacity to deal with threats to our safety. This does not, however, provide permission for authorities to operate without limits. Due process must. be followed. If we are to allows breaches of justice in the name of fighting against what we fear, we are no better than the terrorists.

Our strength and resilience as a society is not measured by how we act in the good times but how we deal with the bad times and come together in the face of adversity. During the 2011 Queensland floods people around the world were shocked to see traffic jams because of people heading into the state, rather than out of it, so they could offer a helping hand.  Today should be no different. Faced with a threat - perceived or evidenced - it is imperative that we as a community support each other and stand united against fear.

The tricky line is not letting a stance against fear become a stance against a people because of their race, religion or dress code. The threat of terrorism must not become a chance for racial and religious hatred and ignorance to flourish. What it must not become is a conversation about us and them, because that leads us down a path we thrashed 13 years ago. Violence begets violence. For the cycle to be broken, the conversation must be reframed. Rather than basing it on race, religion or ethnicity, let's base it on intention, values and principles. We have come so far since September 11 and we must heed the lessons of history.

Us and them marginalises communities and makes people feel like they don't belong when Australia is all they have ever known. It pushes people away from the mainstream, particularly young people, when often they are looking to be valued and fit in. Marginalisation, as well as entrenched socio-economic disadvantage and language in the public arena that is isolating, fear mongering and cruel, are some of the many reasons people look for other answers. Groups like AIS are happy to be that answer. We cannot let that happen.

 If you are in favour of a society where people live harmony, within a system that is fair and just, then you are for peace and we stand united on that platform.  

So what can we all do as individuals? Have open conversations with one another. Learn about each other without prejudice. Smile and say hi to someone who looks different on the street. Stand up to behaviour that is prejudiced. Make a friend who follows a different belief system and ask them about their way of life. make a Muslim friend. Gosh, if all else fails, email me and I'll regale you with terrible puns and stories all about my car woes (never buy an Alfa Romeo if you're not ready for the towing costs and emotional heartache).

There may be disagreement about beliefs, mindsets and ways of living, but this does not preclude us from living harmoniously together. After all, I continue to disagree with anyone who claims the Blues are a better team than the Maroons (however misplaced you may think that faith is…)  yet, I do still accept those from down south. We do say that sport is pretty much a religion in this country, don't we?

That is what makes us who we are. The ability to rise above and beyond prejudice, ignorance and hatred and truly be mates, especially when the going gets tough.

As Muslims we are told "since good and evil cannot be equal, repel evil with something that is better" (41:34). Let's all make sure we are better than the evil that we so abhor. Let's make sure it doesn't turn us against our neighbours, but rather brings us together to realise that strength lies not in our differences, but in our unity.

What is a moderate Muslim anyway?

This post was originally written for the Attorney General's blog, 'Living Safe Together'.  Given recent events, I thought I would publish it here as well.  It seems a little incongruous now, given the urgency of the current discussion, particularly around young Muslims in Australia...but I will let you be a judge of that.

***

‘Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me...’

A fine sentiment, but one that is not quite accurate, particularly when it comes to being labelled by society. An entire life being pigeonholed by a set of criteria you haven’t chosen can be uncomfortable and at times, counterproductive. The effect may be quite unintentional; although words like ‘radical’, ‘extreme’, ‘fundamental’, are obviously polarising, even tags like ‘moderate’ or ‘mainstream’ are descriptors chosen by others to describe the Muslim community and individuals within it – tags that don’t necessarily sit well with Muslims themselves.

It’s easy to labele someone - myself, for example - a ‘moderate’ or ‘mainstream’, as if that is a compliment, as if that indicates that I am not like ‘the others’; those ‘crazier’ extreme types that wish harm on the country and culture we live in.

However, what does moderate or mainstream mean exactly? Does it mean that my brand of Islam or practice as a Muslim is inoffensive enough to not make those around me feel uncomfortable? Does it mean I have given up just enough of my beliefs and culture to become ‘mainstream’, whatever that means in Australia? Does it mean I don’t follow the ‘fundamentals’ of the religion, as otherwise I would be seen as a ‘fundamentalist?’ These are not necessarily easy questions to answer, and not meant to be taken as accusations, but the importance of semantics in this discussion should not be underestimated. Labels have a way of being a self-fulfilling prophecy, for better or for worse.

Being described as moderate stirs up conflicting emotions. On one hand, appreciation of the fact that ‘we’, as Muslims, pose no harm, juxtaposed against an annoyance that this is a sentiment that needs to be expressed. On the other hand, it arouses an uneasiness about being described as ‘average’, in intensity or quality. It implies that well, we’re not a very good Muslim at all. We are just average, and average is all that is acceptable. To be any more devout or religious would be straying into ‘fundamental’ territory, and society can’t have that.

It must be acknowledged that of course, in a land of policy writing and position statements, well-understood labels are the easiest way to describe a group. Labels are the symbolic monikers, shorthand for definitions the community understands. However, across the board that has the potential to make us lazy in our thinking about the people we are talking about. It poses the danger of giving us the space to fall into well-worn thinking patterns, patterns which will only ever produce the same results they always have. To change an entire discourse is no simple matter though, and so it requires careful reflection and a healthy dose of pragmatism. How do you change what a word means to a community?

What is needed is a fundamental shift in thinking. Underlying the conversation is the understanding that there are ‘extreme’ Muslims, and ‘moderate’ Muslims. However, perhaps it should be understood that there are ‘extreme’ Muslims, and then, well, just Muslims. In the same way that there are Christians and Jews, and then there are extremes in both - the same concept applies. There is no one moderate Muslim community. In fact, there is no one single Muslim community at all; that is part of the richness of the faith. However, one view that is widely prevalent among various groups is the reluctance to be framed by a label that has been bestowed on us in an effort to determine friend from foe.

What needs to be remembered is that we (Muslims) are all part of the community as well, and are in invested in seeing it remain a safe place for us all to live in. Rather than frame the conversation in a dichotomous fashion, we (Australian society broadly) should focus on supporting each other and the young people in our community. Empowerment can be found in fulfilment through education, religion, meaningful employment and providing reasons not to become disengaged and disenfranchised. Obviously there is more to the story, but we must start somewhere. It’s the same in any community - those who are vulnerable are those most likely to fall prey to manipulation. If they do, it is a failure on us as a society and as a community for failing to support and enabling growth in a constructive way.

Those that are currently feared may be the very ones that need our help the most.

Back to Sudan: No, I did not get Ebola

Ah, it seems sometimes I avoid writing because I am a little afraid of what will come out when I start...

Oh Sudan, how you tear me in two.

***

I just got back from a whirlwind trip to Sudan, the land of my birth.  I was there for a total of 4 full days; three days and two half days. If you consider all the flying, I was almost in the air as long as I was on the ground.  I returned for the weddings of cousins and to see my Grandmother, a lady who I have lived with and who has taught me so much (the School of Life, as she refers to it).

As the plane came in to land (Alhamdulilah), I thought of the last time I was in Sudan. Coming out of university, going to study Arabic: it was a time of hope, of growth, of the Arab Spring, of something new and exciting. They were memories of rose tinted (or sand blasted) glasses, gleaming with the nostalgia of a time gone by, before #riglyf or the ruin of Syria...

It was not until my return to the hustle and bustle of the extended family home, the dramas surrounding preparations for the weddings or the two hours the hairdresser berated me for the state of my hair (HOW DARE YOU LEAVE IT CURLY?! Don't you know a woman's hair is the crown of her beauty? Don't you want to be beautiful?! How do you think you will find a man? Don't you want to feel attractive?) that the other memories of Sudan began to resurface.

(My favourite comment the hairdresser made: Oh look, I know you think you're an engineer and you're with all these men so you shouldn't take care of yourself, but girl, don't kid yourself. Men want a womanly woman. Just remember that.  When I made noises about having a man not being the most important thing in my life, she fell quiet for a few minutes.  A few blissful minutes of peace, before the barrage began again, with a different tact: Didn't I want to show everyone else in the house I could be beautiful? I could only muster and agreement-sounding moan).

Returning to the other memories of Sudan: although I'd forgotten, it was the only time in my life that my actions were constantly not enough, not right, not adequate - in a big way.  Having not been brought up in Sudan but being of Sudanese origin, I was expected (by this age) to espouse the 'correct' and perfect Sudanese way of being a woman.  This, as hard as I might, was not yet achieved.  Sure, if I worked at it as hard as I did my engineering degree, I'd probably be a hell of a lady by Sudanese standards, but to be perfectly honest - it just didn't rate with the priorities.  That doesn't stop the judgement though...

What were these 'correct' rules that were meant to be espoused? Some simple examples include:

- To make the perfect cup of tea (when to serve, how much sugar, how much to pour, the correct herbs to be added and to do it all with the utmost grace and such),

- To look like the perfect lady (preferably short, thin, not too thin as to look malnourished because that is undesired but not too large as to look like you weren't in control of your portion sizes (and definitely not muscled, lord, that was for men!), with neat manicured nails, smooth, moisturised skin - the whiter the better - with as few markings as possible, straight hair that would be coiffed into rolling curls and once whooshed out of the hijab it had been covered in under 40 degree heat all day, would gleam like the sun and smell like fairies; make up that looked good but not too fake, henna that was done well and not fading, clothing that was attractive but not too tight and shoes that were classy but would withstand the mud... you get the gist)

- To be able to cook, well (No elaboration necessary. Isn't this a prerequisite for every culturally diverse woman?)

- To be interested in womanly things, not politics and cars and football and engineering and the things that were reserved for men...

- To be the a witty conversationalist but also to talk about polite topics and not stray into overly satirical humour (not sure it translates...)

Alas, I may be being somewhat facetious.

However, the truth of the matter (as far as I can see) is this...

Sudan, north Sudan in particular, is a deeply traditional, communal society.  Societies that are tribal and based on community in the way that the Sudanese are can often be deeply judgemental.  In this world, a woman's reputation is her only weapon, her beauty of uptmost importance and her ability to hold a household and care for a family paramount.

Many of the things I have learned to value here in Australia - the community work, the breaking of the barriers in the industry I work in, the influence in public conversations - yes, that is of passing interest to the families in Sudan, but really, honestly?

It doesn't rate in comparison. 

So I go from being someone who is confident in their ability and place in the world to someone who feels like they don't know the rules at all really, and the rules I do know, I don't adhere to very well at all.

The kicker? This is supposed to be where I am from.  This would be where I was from, if my parents hadn't decide to make that audacious journey to the other side of the globe in 1992.

So, Sudan is a place where I feel I have roots - deep roots - my only roots.

It is a place I feel I must

Yet although I know I must learn to love Sudan, because it is a place that keeps me grounded and connected, it is also a nation that makes me feel judged and inadequate.  It is a place whose values and traditions I know I should espouse, and yet, I find myself disagreeing with.  The issue then becomes that yet if I reject these based on the Australian values embedded within me, well it means I am then becoming 'westernised'.

'Westernised' being synonymous with losing my identity, not being 'true or genuine', or almost taking the side of the oppressors.  It isn't a rational fear, as those aren't all rational reasons or statements, yet, somehow, it is there.

The implication is that somehow, by trying to be different, I am implicitly forsaking my Sudanese identity and redefining myself as a true coconut - black on the outside, white on the inside.  The implication is that taking the identity of the 'white' and the associated individualistic, capitalist nature, is clearly the wrong thing to do.

It can't be.

I am Australian, Muslim, born in Sudan with mixed heritage. I get to pick and chose what I want to take on, right?  Yet, every time I go back, I feel guilty about my choices.

Why? I don't know, but this cannot go on...Surely, something has to make it through this madness.

You see, even by calling it madness, I am wracked by guilt.  Doesn't Sudan have enough haters, my conscious asks me.  Do you really need to be like all the others and hate on it as well? What makes you any better than all of them... why aren't you backing Sudan?

My conscious can be a right burr sometimes.

Oh Sudan.

Are you worried about the European elections?

The recent European Union elections have given a legitimate seat to quite a few far right parties, prompting questions around where this level of extremism is coming from, and to what end it is leading?

The Huffpost reports on some of the most extreme, including the Dutch party which wants to rid the country of Moroccans (who were ironically brought in by the Dutch themselves to bolster their workforce), a group in Hungary who want all Jews to sign a register (sound familiar?) and a number of strongly anti-immigration and anti-European parties across the continent.

It is extremely disappointing to see such strong levels of hatred, downright racism and homophobic rhetoric coming out of so called ‘civilised’ nations.  We have been frustrated in Australia with the level of anti-asylum seeker language, but it hasn’t reached the levels of mainland Europe and the Tea Party across the pond.  Where is this all coming from, why is it so and how can we tackle it?

***

I’ve been fortunate to travel to Europe a number of times and cannot categorically say that I have personally experienced strong levels of racism, but that is obviously not completely indicative of the situation.  Firstly, visiting a European nation as an Australian is novel enough that people tend to overlook the colour of my skin and religion and focus on the novelty of being from a land so far away. Furthermore, by not being a migrant and simply a visitor, I do not pose a ‘risk’ in the same way that people fear immigrants are.  

It could be those reasons…or it could be that I am simply blind to the racism around me and chose not to see or be affected by it.  If people are choosing to believe their prejudices with force, what is there to do but continue living one’s life?

Anecdotally, discrimination in Australia happens on slightly different grounds.  Barring attitudes to the Indigenous Australians (which is a whole other discussion), prejudice is largely based on ignorance rather than true, steeped hatred of the ‘other’.  There are few exceptions, and there are pockets of population where research shows social cohesion to be at troublingly low levels (Western Sydney and Logan being areas of note).   However by and large (and making a huge generalisation), Australians tend to feel that if someone is trying hard and giving ‘being Australian’ a fair go, then they’re alright.  So if they’re trying to speak English, working hard and don’t take things too damn seriously, they’re alright mate.  We are too young a country to have the sorts of issues Europe is dealing with. 

What creates an environment that enhances social cohesion is well known.  Those who are well educated and well off are more likely to be tolerant and accepting than those from lower socio economic backgrounds, regardless of background.  A fascinating comment recently made me aware that even the Sudanese and other African migrants were irritated with boat arrivals in Australia.  

Why? One would imagine they would be willing to welcome people from similarly difficult circumstances.  

It was a case of survival: the perception was that these newcomers would be fighting for the same types of jobs and were seen to be coming in a manner that was cheating the system everyone else used (i.e. those who went through the UN refugee camp process). Fascinating right?  

So why are people moving further and further right in Europe?

They say in tough times people tend to close in and  fear the unknown significantly more.  It is a step down Mazlow’s hierarchy: people are no longer in the space of self actualisation and are more focused on the survival and work levels.  They are focused on providing for their family and any obstacles are just barriers to be able to protect what they love...

Regardless of whether there are legitimate reasons or not though, extremism is not acceptable in any shape or form.  The extremism seen in Europe is reflective of the extremism the West is so frightened of in the Middle East and North Africa, they are just based on different lines.  Extremism based on nationality is no less dangerous than extremism based on religion.  Both exhibit cult-like mentalities, and encourage behaviour that is downright barbaric.  Reason and logic doesn’t seem to work...

So the challenge is for the young, educated and informed young people who have grown up in a globalised society to ensure that extremism remains fringe and ridiculously laughable.  This is where a new generation can really leave a mark and share in a meaningful legacy.  By and large, I have seen this happen but the trick is to have it spread beyond just the educated upper and middle classes and move into the lower socio economic groups.  

Some young Europeans have said the fact that extreme groups have a legitimate seat at the table is good as it means they can argue their point and be shut down in a formal manner.

I am undecided.  I appreciate that this may be the case, but by allowing these types of ideologies to blossom in mainstream media, what else are we then accepting as a society?

It isn’t always easy being tolerant and accepting of what is different and unusual, but multiculturalism and globalisation don’t happen by accident. It takes well designed policy, implementation and maintenance to ensure it remains successful. 

Australia is doing okay, but we cannot be complacent. If we are to avoid an EU-like situation, let’s keep our eye on the ball and hope the Europeans can sort themselves out before things get too nasty.  

What do you think? Why are people moving to the far right, and is it something we should worry about?

Ramadan Kareem!

 

There are as many forms of fasting as there are organs of perception and sensation, and each of these has many different levels. So we ask to fast from all that Allah does not love for us, and to feast on what the Beloved loves for us.

Let us certainly fast from the limited mind, and all that it conjures up.

Let us fast from fear, apart from fear and awe of Allah's majesty.

Let us fast from thinking that we know, when Allah alone is the Knower.

Let us fast from thinking negatively of anyone.

Let us fast from our manipulations and strategies.

Let us fast from all complaint about the life experiences that Allah gives us.

Let us fast from our bad habits and our reactions.

Let us fast from desiring what we do not have.

Let us fast from obsession.

Let us fast from despair.

Let us fast from not loving our self, and from denying our heart.

Let us fast from selfishness and self-centered behavior.

Let us fast from thinking that only what serves us is important.

Let us fast from seeing reality only from our own point of view.

Let us fast from seeing any reality other than Allah, and from relying on anything other than Allah.

Let us fast from desiring anything other than Allah and Allah's Prophets and friends, and our own true self.

Essentially, let us fast from thinking that we have any existence separate from Allah.

Fariha Fatima

Daily Life: World Hijab Day should only be the start

Check out this piece I wrote for the Daily Life a little while back!

***

World Hijab Day was celebrated by a reported 116 countries around the world on 1 February this year.  The initiative, started by New Yorker Nazma Khan, seeks to promote understanding and harmony by celebrating the hijab and encouraging non-Muslims to try it on and see what it 'feels like to be a Muslim'.

It is fantastic that the world came together to celebrate the hijab.  If, however, the aim is to foster true connection and understanding of Muslim women, the focus has to be on more than simply focus on what they wear.

The campaign has its merits; there is no denying that there is a space for symbolism in the public realm. But the initiative can also be seen as exploiting the symbolic nature of the hijab by using the style of covering as a gateway for people to engage with the religion in an introductory fashion.

The fact is, for better or for worse, the visibility of the hijab (and the ease in which it can be policed) has made it a powerful symbol. It has evolved into a lightening rod around which debates and discussions about Islam's role in the West are centered and goes some way towards explaining why the concept of a 'World Hijab Day' is popular.

However, if the conversation stops at symbolism, which it so often does, the effect becomes to trivialise rather than achieve any sort of deeper connection and understanding.  By focusing on an item or style of clothing, we again run the risk of reducing Muslim women to objects.

Ironically, this is the complete opposite of what the hijab is designed to achieve.  By intimating that donning the hijab will allow the wearer to 'see what life is like as a Muslim woman', it also subtly implies that the hijab is one of the only things that makes a woman Muslim.  This does have the unfortunate side effect of ostracizing Muslim women who choose not to wear the hijab.

This is not to say that the concept of World Hijab Day is entirely flawed.  By demystifying it in some sense, progress is made.  However, it becomes concerning when time and time again, the only discourse about Muslim women is confined to the hijab.

To enrich and broaden the narrative, we should instead focus on the stories, lives and achievements of Muslim women across the board, regardless of their choice of clothing.  We should recognise Muslim women as active and engaged members of the community. These are women who are doctors, engineers, accountants as well as  mothers, politicians and scholars.

Women like Ayesha Farooq, a female fighter pilot in Pakistan, or Ibtihaj Muhammad, a female fencing Olympian.  Women like my very own mother, who tells stories of standing up to soldiers during the coup in Sudan when she was a student.  She was never defined by her clothes but always by her steely determination to make the most of life and provide the best opportunities for her children.

It has to be said though, that part of the impetus is also on us as Muslim women.  We cannot simply continue to be defined by, and allow the world to define us by, the clothing and modesty choices we uphold.  We cannot wait for others to tell our story.  Although it may be frustrating to have to do so, these are the times we live in and so we have to actively ensure that the narratives we tell about ourselves are more than just about our physicality.

When we reach the point where the hijab is no longer something 'remarkable' in the literal sense of the word, we have reached a true understanding. Let's aim for that.

Feminism versus Culture?

The question of feminism in the space of race and religion is one that can often be divisive, particularly given the history of the word ‘feminism’ and the connotations it presents.

A recent post by an Aboriginal Feminist titled "Aboriginal Feminism – So what does this entail?” highlighted some of these difficulties translating ‘western’ feminism to the Aboriginal - and by extension, culturally diverse - space.  For example, she cited the use of the didgeridoo.

"One such example I can think of are the constant questions we get about women playing the didgeridoo. It is considered culturally inappropriate for women to play this instrument which is commonly interpreted by mainstream feminism as sexist. However, black women don't tend interpret it this way, rather it is seen as “men's business” and therefore a respected part of culture.”

She continues by illustrating something I have found difficult to articulate without sounding exclusionary myself.

"If it were an issue, it would be an issue for black women to challenge. White women challenging this would not only come across as an act of imperialism, it would also severely diminish our right as black women to enact change within our own communities.”

Indeed.

This may be part of the reason why the concept of feminism is so divisive and polarising in communities, such as for example, the Muslim community that I am familiar with.  At times, the very act of mentioning feminism immediately sidelines you from being a participant in the discussion.   It is assumed you then embody the value system of ‘Western Feminism’, a concept disparaged and associated with man-hating, bra-burning and a rejection of any traditional role and expectation in society.

Unfortunately at times, the world of western feminism seems to reinforce these perceptions.  A classic example is that of Femen, a group who claim fight patriarchy in its manifestations in religion, and to speak on behalf of ‘oppressed Muslim women’ among other things.

To be fairly frank, I don’t get it.  However, as a covered Muslim woman, I don’t think I was ever going to ‘get’ protesting through toplessness.  More critically however, by deciding that wearing the hijab was oppressive and actively fighting against it, two things happen:

1. The perspectives, beliefs and norms of those whose right they are claiming to protect are actually ignored, and

2. The right of Muslim women to fight for their rights is undermined.

There is no doubt that there are oppressed Muslim women around the world, but there seems to be a lack of nuance as to how to fight that oppression.  This arises from a lack of understanding of the cultures in which these women operate.

If the very act of fighting FOR someone silences the very person that is meant to be liberated…should it be done at all?  Personally, I feel that groups like FEMEN do more damage to Muslim women who chose to wear the hijab and follow the religion in their own ways than it does to help those who are oppressed through its misinterpretation.

The question then is this: how do we talk about feminism in a space that respects the diversity of races and religions as well as the norms and beliefs they expect and demand?  

A tougher nut to crack indeed.

What do you think?

Is feminism even really a word that we, as culturally and linguistically diverse women, use without being tainted and rejected by our communities? 

TBC...

How do you go to the beach as a Hijabi anyway?

I didn't feel like I belonged,

In my tights, scarf and t-shirt with the sleeves long.

The constant stares are never kind,

What are you doing here, they seemed to ask: Do you mind?

I minded a little, and it was becoming a lot,

Yet, why did I care, for what?

For the stares of strangers, as harsh as they are,

Cannot beat the bigger picture, which is never far...

***

One of my best friends is from South Africa, and loves the beach.

We always joke though that when her and I head into the ocean, we look like fresh tourists that would probably end up drowning on a TV show like 'Bondi Rescue'.

Why? Well given our 'ethnic' appearance, the loud squeals when hit by a wave and the fact that we - or I at least - don't wear the usual Australian beach attire means we  look a bit different to your average aussie surfie.  Gotta love fitting into a stereotype right?

***

As a teenager, the question I got asked the most by curious classmates was always along the same lines.

"So how do you go to the beach if you're all covered up?"

I would always make some answer up that seemed to make sense.  "Oh, I find a way".  Truth was, my family just never really went to the beach! Both my mother and I wore the hijab, the beach was a little far  and I wasn't a huge fan of swimming anyway.  It wasn't a sport we were ever going to be competitive in.  When was the last time you saw a Sudanese Olympic Swimmer?

***

Mashallah, no one can deny the beauty, the power, the draw of an ocean.  So now, all grown up, what are the options?

I have been known to wade in wearing my normal, everyday clothes: a long dress or regular pants and a top and so on. In my mind, I look like this:

Where as in reality, I look more like someone who took a wrong turn and ended up drenched.

Most of the time though, I wear a pair of long running tights, a large, voluminous top and a bandana like scarf that is often misinterpreted.

It's hot, but you get used to it.

It definitely doesn't blend in, but I tell myself people are staring because they think I have swag.

I chose to cover up for reasons that meant something to me.  Yes, going to the beach is an exercise in hilarity, but who said it was going to be easy all the time?

I've decided the beach is awesome, majestic and something that I am going to embrace and enjoy.  I may look like a tourist, or a Sudanese Nile Perch out of water, but I'll be enjoying myself every step of the way!  #Yolo, right? :P

***

Too Busy? Think again...

This piece was written for my regular column in the 'Australian Muslim Times' :)

***

How often do you repeat the phrase, "oh, I'm just so busy?"

In a world where we are surrounded by technology aids that are meant to save us time, it is amazing that so often we still seem to find ourselves swamped, run off our feet and 'too busy' to be doing the things we say we want to do but never seem to find the time to.

They say that if you want something done, ask a busy person.  Yet so often we are seemingly so busy that the time seemingly can't be found.  Where is the disconnect, and is being this way really allowing us to be as effective as we can be?  

Ironically, sometimes being extremely busy does not always correlate directly to being extremely productive or creative.  At the beginning of this year, I did a personal stock take of how my year went and areas I would like to improve on.  I found that being constantly over-occupied did not allow me to stop, think and reflect.  It is these moments of reflection that allow us all to think outside the box, critically analyse issues and mull over topics in our mind.  This enables connections and links to develop between ideas that may have not been easily noticed had we simply rushed to the next task.

There is a reason why many a great idea is thought of in the shower.  The shower is a brief moment in time where there are no distractions apart from a simple, routine physical act, allowing the mind to wander.  It is this moment of brain-walkabout that can often bear fruitful mental results.  When was the last time you had an A-ha moment? Was it in a moment of routine activity?

So how can we increase the instances of mindfulness in our lives, allow for more reflection and less unproductive busy-ness?

Western convention talks a lot about meditation, and we are fortunate in Islam to have a meditative, reflective process inbuilt into our worship.  Salah is the perfect chance, particularly as it occurs five times in our day, for us to take out time from our busy lives and reflect.  First and foremost naturally, we can use this time to remember Allah.  We can also use the time as a prompt to take an extra five minutes to reflect on what is going on in the day, let our mind wander and have a mental rest before we continue.  This is something that I hope to start implementing this year inshallah.

Secondly, I hope to take the concept of a mental break further and better utilise an habit I picked up from my father that I practiced throughout my school and university studies.

No matter how 'busy' I was, whether it was with event planning or with writing my final year thesis, I would take Friday afternoon and night off.  From about 3pm every week, I would clear out my schedule and desk and mentally disengage myself from work or study in order to give my brain a rest.  One night off a week was an important habit to reduce the chance burn out.  It allowed for making time to appreciate other important aspects of life like family and friends, and to just take a break.   It may be more difficult with full time work, but that is all the more reason to try to schedule in time off.

The third thing I am going to try this year inshallah is to change my attitude towards being 'busy'.  For at least a month, I am going to try not use the word when someone asks how I am. Rather than simply masking my actions by describing it as a hive of activity without specifics, I will look to find other ways to answer that question and force myself to acknowledge what I am spending all my time on.  In this way, I am constantly reflecting and keeping myself accountable.

None of these actions will directly reduce the physical number of tasks in a day, but it will inshallah change the mindset that tasks are approached with.  By cleaning, clarifying and sharpening the mind by reducing the focus on haste, as well as allowing for mental space to reflect and spend time with those we love, hopefully we can move away from being simply 'busy' to becoming little more mindful, appreciative and productive members of society.  We can pack a lot into the 24 hours of each day, and inshallah enjoy as many of them as possible.

SBS Comment: I'm an undercover hijabi too?

Check out this piece I wrote for SBS Online!

When I'm at work on the rigs, it turns out I'm an undercover hijabi.

The experience I have reflects what blogger Leena talks about in her piece 'I took my hijab off for a day'. She describes a complete shift in the way she was perceived by society after she accidentally covered her hijab up with a knit hat and scarf.

The style of hijab I usually wear is flowy, full of tassels and in some ways an occupational health and safety hazard around heavy machinery. While on site I wear a head covering that has been described by coworkers as a 'tea cosy'; a beanie and bandana combination similar to a style favoured by Egyptian ladies. I wore it for a while without realising my coworkers didn't see it as a religious head covering.

I was loving the fact that I wasn't experiencing the racisim in country Australia that I had expected. This fantasy was ubruptly burst when a colleague asked if I ever took the tea cosy off.

'Nah,' I replied easily. 'I'm a Muslim woman, this is what I wear as a hijab on the rig.'

A look of confusion crossed his face and the topic was dropped. It didn't take me too long after that to join the dots.

'Hey, you know I'm Muslim, right?' I asked another fellow that I'd become friends with.

'What? Really? Nah I didn't know...'

'Oh, well why do you think I wear this?' I asked, pointing at my head.

'Oh, I thought it was a fashion thing, or maybe for safety ...'

Like Leena in her piece, this left me feeling confused. The next day, I wore a full hijab (the traditionally wrapped kind) to the crib room for breakfast. You could have been forgiven for thinking people thought I was a completely different person.

It wasn't until I began interacting like the loud, feisty person I always am that people warmed to my presence. The experiments was repeated at a bigger mining style camp and again, the difference in attitudes was startling.

With a beanie, you are just a chick who is cold. With a headscarf, you are the new local tourist attraction and smiles are returned only occasionally and almost fearfully. Suddenly, you're are a foreigner in your own home.

Being a hijabi in the West has its challenges. You're extremely visible as a representative of the religion and people on all sides of the fence see it as their role to police, have an opinion, and a right to comment on your choice. You are constantly asked to justify the actions and mistakes of every extremist that chooses to do something crazy and inhumane in the name of your religion. These are roles that we hijabis have simply become accustomed to filling, part of the deal in a way.

To get a 'get out of jail free card' by wearing something not recognisable gives me mixed feelings. Occasionally, it feels like cheating to be wearing something that people don't associate with Islam for practical reasons while also working to fulfil the conditions of my belief. At the same time, religion and politics are two topics that are avoided like the plague in any blue collar crib room, and so keeping it as personal as possible is a natural default in this environment.

It would be fair to argue everyone should be accepting regardless of what kind of head covering is worn, be it a beanie, a hijab or a ninja-style niqab. Realistically, many are just not ready yet for such changes in their environment and find hijab - for better or for worse - confronting. An effective response is akin to tailoring a message for different audiences: if a group is not at all primed, they'll close their minds off completely to confrontational messaging. The hope is that perhaps as my colleagues now see me as a person first, the common ground found will help reduce ignorance and forge understanding.

When I'm not on the rig, I go back to wearing my classic brightly coloured flowing pieces. They feel like 'me', a part of my identity, something I do for God and an external representation of my faith. It is interesting to consider how many interactions have been missed because people have already made their decision on what I represent based on the type of wrapping I have used on my head.

My way around it at the moment? Grabbing every opportunity to chat to those people, and the more traditionally dressed I am, the better. A slightly inappropriate joke, or a comment about my love of motorsport and knowledge of engines usually shocks them enough for them to forget what I look like for a moment and be drawn into a chat. Then, everyone wants to know what the bikie and the hijabi are laughing uproariously about. Nothing breaks down barriers in Australia like a well timed self deprecating joke.

It may not be perfect, but until all facets of our society become comfortable with seeing displays of faith like the hijab and what they represent, we may have to be more creative about our engagement and representation. After all, to be seen as a foreigner in the only country we know as home is a lonely place indeed. It is a two way street though, and ultimately, it is all about finding the place where we belong in the patchwork fabric of Australia's identity while holding (and displaying) the true values of Islam and faith dear.

Airing of the IQ Squared debate on ABC!

The Intelligence Squared debate which was shown on BBC, "God and His Prophets Should be Protected from Insult" is now online!

You can also catch it next week on ABC TV Big Ideas on Friday 7th February on ABC1 at 11 am.

This program will REPEAT on Sunday 9th February on ABCNEWS24 at 6.00am.

If you aren't near a TV, the the full web version of the session it is available here.

It will also be available on ABC Online (iview) after the program has aired :)

Looking forward to hearing your feedback!