I'm catching up on current events. A few days ago I learned my cousin was forced out of her short-term rental (a place away from her husband so she wouldn't have to spend two hours commuting each way to work) because her roommate caught her praying. She is a British-accented, non-hijab wearing, modern career woman with degrees in accounting. I, on the other hand, only reveal my religious heritage only after direct scrutiny, and the fact my last name gives it all away. Through my years working within the U.S. military and government agencies, I have often found I'm the minority, and my colleagues are hyper-sensitive to anyone coming close to inferring I have terrorist ties, with the exception of my Irish Army polygrapher. I don't want to make anyone tip-toe around what is a politically charged issue that is intrinsically linked to my namesake and of course, my identity. I've found a pretty thoughtful editorial (the link is in the title).
It invokes many images for me. One is of a regional Taekwondo tournament I participated in where I got my butt thoroughly beaten by a hijab-wearing black belt, coached by an Egyptian American. I have never met a more ferocious, powerful and fast woman in the competition ring in my life. I'm also thinking about the article I read in JO magazine, Jordan's version of The Washingtonian, about how 85% of Jordanian women believe their husbands have a right to physical beat their wives. I'm also taken back to a Facebook wall argument I had with a friend of a friend about health care, when he callously turned it into a debate about my personal background based on what he thought he knew about the origins of my name.
So what is the point of all this? I'm glad I'm not alone in having to defend something that is part of millions of peoples' identity, and two, I'm glad to have known such a wide diversity of experiences, which only three of which I've illustrated here out of a multitude; to show that it is exactly about that, diversity.
