Tag: hijab

State of the Arc #14: A Rocky Month

I know people like to joke that January and February 2018 were long months, but for me September seems to have lasted forever. I’ve been battling myself this month, so I haven’t been as productive as I would have liked. I managed to get a little bit of reading done, just not as much as I’d hoped. I also didn’t request many ARCs, but I found a super old ARC on my bookshelf while I was rearranging it. I got it back in high school, before I even knew what an ARC was. It’s a “Black Widow” spinoff by the author of Beautiful Creatures (Margaret Stohl). I think it’s just an excerpt, so I’ll probably glance through it some day.

 

Here’s a side by side comparison of my August and September ARC graphs. I switched from Infogram to Canva because I create all my other graphics in Canva anyway. It made sense to put my graphs there.

state of the arc 13 graphic

state of the arc 14 chart

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I gained quite few more ARCs (I suddenly got approved for a bunch of books I forgot I even requested), I also managed to read two. I’ll review both The Library Book (Susan Orlean) and Well-Read Black Girl (Gloria Edim et al. ) in October, a few days prior to their publication dates.

 

I don’t have anymore 2018 ARCs, so now I can focus on reading old ones. My goal this month is to finish two currently-unfinished books, then I’d like to read something on my ever-growing TBR list. I picked up Han Kang’s “Human Acts” and I’ve had Ian Reid’s “I’m Thinking of Ending Things” forever. Both are short, so I’m hoping to finish them. If I have time, I’d like to read some of the chapbooks that have been sitting on my shelf since God knows when.

 

I only managed to get two reviews out this month. One book was awesome (This Burns my Heart, Samuel Park) and the other was awful (My Hijab, My Identity, Sadaf Farooqi). I’m still sitting on a huge pile of high-star reviews. Now I have not only a to-be-read list, but also a to-be-reviewed list, haha.

this burns my heart cover image
Simon & Schuster, 2011. 322 pages
my hijab, my identity cover
Amazon Digital Services, 2018. 44 Pages.

 

Here’s the shortlist of what I read in September:

I don’t plan on reviewing Maisie Dobbs,  but I certainly recommend it. It’s about a female private eye in England in the 1920s. A lot of Goodreads reviewers deem her “too perfect,” but I only see an incredibly intelligent woman who learned quickly and followed her intuition. Dhe’s kind, outgoing, and never forgets where she came from. She is always grateful to those who helped her move up in life. Besides the character herself, the interwoven plots themselves are interesting. There’s the story of how Maisie became a private eye, there’s a story of forbidden love, there are tales of The Great War and there’s case she’s solving, which leads to unexpected ends. I listened to the audiobook, which really helped bring the story to life.

 

My wish for a purple ARC came true, but I haven’t reviewed it yet so I won’t include it in the BINGO until next month. As a result, my BINGO is the same as last month.

State of the ARC BINGO

Writing this post actually made me feel a little better about my “failed” month. I’ve been in a low mood lately, and generally overwhelmed with life. Despite this, I still managed to read three books and post two reviews (as well as a tea tasting). I think I’m actually getting better at becoming a functional human being. T_T

As usual, I’m going to direct you to Avalinah’s Bookspace so you can read her post and see who else linked up with the meme. You can also join in if you’d like!  If you’ve read anything I’ve mentioned today, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Should I give Sadaf Farooqi another chance?

Mini Review of a Hijab Manifesto

My Hijab, My Identity by Sadaf Farooqi

Rating: 2 stars

my hijab, my identity cover
Amazon Digital Services, 2018. 44 Pages.

First Impression: Two wrongs don’t make a right.

The Review:  I was very excited to finally be able to read something by Farooqi. I’ve been following her blog for a while and she has written thirteen books. In the beginning of this manifesto of sorts, Farooqi says that her book is for people who are wondering about hijab, either because they want to wear it themselves or because they wonder why others wear it. Personally, I chose to read it to see if I could strengthen my own arguments. I often fail to properly vocalize my reasoning, so I figured I might be able to borrow some of her arguments. Due to the harshness of the book, however, I think My Hijab, My Identity does more to turn people away from hijab than to invite them towards it.

 

All throughout the book, Farooqi claims it is unfair for people to make snap-judgement about hijabis. She says that, contrary to popular belief, hijabis are often educated women with sovereignty over their own bodies. Farooqi does not, however, offer the same generous generalization of non-hijabis. She more or less argues that the more women show skin, the less self-respect they have. She seems to argue that they are blind and cannot see how right hijab is.

 

I also found it problematic how often Farooqi related her hijab to interaction with other men. She mentioned men so frequently you’d think they were the reason she wears hijab rather than God. I’m not saying that’s necessarily a bad reason to wear hijab, but I’m displeased that she generalized that reasoning to hijabis as a whole. All of the problematic arguments, combined with the poor writing style, are enough to keep this list firmly off my recommendation list. To be fair, though, I’m giving the book two stars because it’s largely opinion based and I don’t want to be known for judging opinions. If Farooqi used arguments that could easily be proved or disproved, then I might give stars based on the logic of the argument. As it stands, My Hijab, My Identity  is just a 45 page rant.

If you do want to read it, find it on Amazon.

Covered Convert: 19 Going on Hijabi

I’ve been wearing some form of hijab for about half a year, here are the lessons I’ve learned and the reason I will continue to wear it.

I embraced Islam in May, but I started covering my head last December. For me, to cover was, more stylistic than religious, but as my spirituality evolved I’ve begun to see the religious benefits of hijab (hijab here referring to the overall manner of dress as opposed to just the headscarf).

 

While the initial decision to wear a scarf and dress modestly began as a temporary experiment, I increasingly found that I preferred this new manner of dress. It seems I changed more than my appearance.

 

Now, people look at me differently, but it’s not always a bad thing. I was in China when I first started wearing turbans, and most of the attention I received was intrigue. My tall, dark-skinned figure already stood out in crowds, the turban just added to the outlandishness.

 

My friends took the change in stride. As soon as I started covering more of myself, however, I became “that Muslim girl” long before I officially took the shahada. At times it was awkward; a few people weren’t sure how to handle the “new” me. I rued the fact that something as simple as my manner of dress could so easily build and shatter assumptions about me. Still, I was pleased with the overall increase in respect. Fortunately, I lived in a community that was relatively accepting of my decision, regardless of the country’s religious intolerance.

 

I also found that suddenly, I love my smile… and my face, and my body. While many assume hijab is meant to oppress women and promote shame towards the female body, it actually does the opposite. The first thing I noticed after deciding to wear hijab was how accustomed to seeing my body I had become. All of a sudden my curves weren’t jumping out at me every time I passed by a reflective surface during the day; the only time I really see my body is before showering and when changing into bedclothes for the night. These fleeting glances always fill me with joy. I no longer criticize my body, partly because I don’t want to criticize Allah’s creation, but mainly because I no longer see the “flaws.” I see pure, unadulterated beauty.

 

Besides that, I’m comfortable. Hijab is freeing. I suppose this point ties into the last one. Besides the breeziness of flowing fabrics against my skin, the looseness relieves the pressure of achieving a “perfect” body (“perfect” in quotes here because everyone’s ideals differ).

 

I’m not neglecting my health—I still exercise and eat my fill of fruits and vegetables—but I’m not concerned with whether or not I look “fat” in an article of clothing (“fat,” is also relative). My genetically slim body tended to avoid public scrutiny, but that doesn’t mean I could escape the scrutiny of my own mind. Now that I know others can’t see my body, I don’t think about it. I woo people with charismatic character, not heavenly hips.

 

In addition to self-confidence, I’ve gained a family, one that I hope will be permanent. The first few friends I told happened to be Muslim and greeted me with open arms. I reveled in the choruses of salaams and “welcome to the family.” My closest friends gave me gifts, and everyone offered to help me learn to pray and gain Islamic knowledge.

 

My ummah, for the most part, has been supportive and I couldn’t thank them enough. Whenever I pray, I feel the solidarity of tens of thousands of Muslims facing the same direction, using the same language, and worshiping the same God, and the numbers are probably higher if I consider the people outside of my relative location. It feels good to be part of such a large community.

 

Prayer in and of itself is a glorious experience, and with hijab, prayer is so much easier—and much more fulfilling. Fortunately, I go to a school which has special areas for students to pray and reflect during the day, so finding a room to pray was a non-issue (until after dark when the special areas closed, but that’s another story).

 

I was, however, deterred by the time involved. I know it sounds awful (“you couldn’t even make time for your Lord?!”), but the effort involved in making wudhu, wrapping my scarf around me, praying, then re-tying my turban in a 15-20 minute break was enough to keep me from praying at all. In hijab, the process is simplified. I simply make wudhu, pray, and go about my day. I’m not missing out on the benefits of prayer by rushing; I take my time, express my praise, ask for forgiveness, and hope Allah accepts my prayer.

 

Essentially, I have no regrets. Though there have been ups and downs (the new family is great but people have already started asking me when I joined ISIS, because apparently all Muslims are terrorists).

 

I have been genuinely happy since starting to wear hijab and especially since my conversion. I feel safe, powerful, beautiful, invincible. The hijab is now an integral part of who I am. The thought of leaving my house (or dorm, if I’m at school) without it makes me uneasy. Not because I feel like I’ll be judged if I take it off (though that does weigh on my mind a little), but because I’ve come to love it.

 

Much in the same way some women wouldn’t dare leave the house without makeup, my outfit isn’t complete without the scarf I put on my head, and the outfit simply isn’t mine if the clothing hugs the body. I’m sure more than a few people will be upset with likening hijab to makeup, but it is not my intention to cheapen or otherwise lessen the importance of hijab. While I hesitate to say hijab is representative of my relationship with Allah (doing so would open up arguments about non-hijabis and their relationships with God), the manner of dress has certainly strengthened my deen, and for that reason, I plan to keep wearing it for the foreseeable future.

Image of 19 year old Sarabi

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