Muslim for a Month

2006-11-27T18:43:00.000-05:00

YP, NMP?

To borrow a phrase from a fellow teacher: You’re Problem, Not My Problem.

I have now listened to Hamza Yusuf’s Men and Women CD three times, and have taken some time to digest its content. As previously, I really enjoyed Shaykh Hamza’s method of explaining things; his use of analogies and stories to enlighten the points he makes is particularly helpful for me. However, my mind keeps coming back to the issue of women, hijab, and the reasons for wearing them. I have no problem with women who choose to wear hijab to be modest before Allah and the general public, although at times I think that since God created us, we should not be ashamed of how we look or appear. Anyway, the point that women wear hijab to protect themselves from men and men from their own baser instincts troubles me, thus the title of this post. I feel that it is the responsibility of men to be accountable for and in charge of their feelings (base or otherwise) and their actions that stem there from, and not the responsibility of the women to cover up to shield men from temptation. Not that I am advocating people walk around naked, although that does seem the logical end to this line of thinking. My turn for an analogy: statistically people in the United States are overweight – we have numbers and health claims to back this up – yet we do not advocate closing all bakeries, fast food restaurants, or ban selling the ingredients to make cookies, simply because people lack sufficient self control to stop themselves from consuming them. (Do not get me started on the people suing McDonald’s etc – I think that is one of the most absurd things I have ever heard.) People need to take responsibility for their own actions – I believe that is one thing that separates adults from children and humans from many other species on the planet – our ability to not act on every thought that flits through our minds because we understand the difference between right and wrong. Asking women to wear hijab, or more, to assist men with their weaker nature seems to be an abdication of the men’s responsibility for their own behavior.

I do understand that men have some responsibility in this arena: to lower their eyes and not look upon someone who is not a relative or not their spouse, to work on the mutual modesty from their own side of the equation. However, I guess I just feel that the equation is not balanced; that women have been given greater responsibility in the modestly arena, and not just for their own relationship with Allah, but for the men’s benefit as well.

For an extreme take on this issue see http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,3-2422621,00.html, about the Australian cleric who equated uncovered/un-hijabed women to meat left out and then eaten by cats, taken by many to be blaming women for rape.

On a separate note: Thank you to the several people who corrected my misunderstanding/misperception of women and men spending time together. In previous blog entries, I talked about finding a chaperone so that I could “hang out” in public with a male friend. I have been informed that I needn’t have taken those measures: we could have spent time together in public without concern or chaperone. Again, another example of something I would have continued to misunderstand had I not undertaken this experience – and written about it in a public forum.

As always, I reserve the right to change my mind on how I feel/think about everything in this post, as I continue to read/discuss/learn about these issues.

2006-11-20T21:22:00.000-05:00

I apologize for not posting in a while. I have been listening to the Hamza Yusuf CD entitled "Men &Women" that I received as a gift during Ramadan (I have listened to it three times now). I am mulling over my thoughts on the subject, and want to think a little further before I put thoughts on paper, as it were. I appreciate the patience of people who wrote to me asking where I have been. It is approaching Thanksgiving holiday here, which makes school a little more hectic than usual. I hope to post my reflections this coming long weekend. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving - hope it is filled with family, friends, and no acrimony.

2006-11-01T08:46:00.000-05:00

“Why do you wear those earrings?”, “welcome back!”, and feeling like Paris Hilton

Let me first address the third and last part of this entry’s title. I tend to regard Paris Hilton as someone who is famous for no reason at all. She is not a movie star, or a successful singer or musician, or an inventor, or author, etc.; yet she is famous, and people read about her exploits on the internet and hear about them on television. That is kind of how I feel. I am not a movie star, or a singer or musician, or an inventor, or author, and have not done anything particularly worthy of note in my life, yet people want to meet me and talk to me and read this blog. I am honestly kind of baffled. I did not think that my experience would be so interesting to other people, and did not consider it so odd or unusual that it would garner such attention. Yet it has. I shared a meal with a group of people (a friend, and friends of hers) on Sunday, and one of the women indicated to me that several women she knows in Arizona have been reading my blog (Hello!) and were excited to learn that she had met me. That really boggled my mind – I consider myself a nice person, a good friend, an interesting individual, but not someone that people are excited to know someone has met. Additionally, it seems that I, and others like myself, have caught the attention of people the world over. Although I have gotten universally positive feedback from Muslims I have met during the past weeks, my endeavor is apparently offensive to others (see http://www.sunnisisters.com/?p=1949#comments). This was never my goal, and I have tried to be clear on that point, and took measures to ensure that my efforts would not be construed that way. I simply believe that the best way to learn is by doing, and what better way to try to understand someone else than to “walk a mile in their shoes”? I never believed I would garner anything remotely approaching ‘more than a surface understanding of “what it’s like” to be one of us’. And I do not consider my actions to be ‘play acting and dressing up for the cameras or the blogosphere, recounting their experiences being “just like” one of the Others’. I never felt that I was play acting, I was completely sincere in all of my efforts during the month of Ramadan; and I never sought attention for my undertaking, unless it was to explain what I was doing and why. I know that I have much, much, much still to learn, and that my month uncovered for me barely the tip of the iceberg that is Islam. Honestly, I am okay with people not liking what I did and not understanding it or my motivation either. What really made me emotional were the comments posted by two of my new friends who came to my defense. Their support is what makes me tear up, not the comments of someone who has never met me. I am sorry that I offended her, but my goal was to build understanding on my part, and I am regretful that it was not taken that way. Additionally, I am kind of glad for this occurrence, it was a refreshing change to have someone not like me! (That sounded really egotistical, but is the best way I can describe how I feel.)

On to the second part of the title: Numerous colleagues have welcomed me back, as if I had been gone on a long trip, or as if I had been a different person during the month of Ramadan. I must say this perplexes me a little bit. Just as I was completely sincere in all my efforts during the month of Ramadan (praying, fasting, etc.), I was also completely myself. While some of my behaviors changed (not hanging out with friends if they would be drinking alcohol), who I am deep down never did. Although, at least one of the “welcome back”s was because I had not attended a happy hour activity in a while, and this person was, I believe, happy to see me. I must confess, though, that this past month did change me somewhat. While I have attended happy hours with colleagues semi-regularly in the past, 99% of the time I drink ice water, and leave before anyone becomes inebriated (not my idea of a good time), I believe I will attend even fewer of them in the future. This past week we went bowling, which I enjoy doing. But for some people, the activity and friends seems simply an excuse to consume alcohol, and that does not appeal to me at all. I do not begrudge people from choosing to consume liquor, provided they are adults and do so in a responsible manner, but for that to be the raison d’etre of the event is something with which I am not at ease. I want to hang out with friends to do just that, and I do not need lubrication to do so, and would like to believe that they do not need to be drinking to hang out with me. Additionally, that evening was the first time in more than a month that I went home with clothes and hair smelling like cigarette smoke, something I had not missed during Ramadan.

After some consideration, I would probably define myself as somewhat of an agnostic. I believe in a higher power, but do not identify myself with any one faith or belief system or scripture or method of worship. However, I met a gentleman this weekend who told me a shortened version of his own journey to Islam, sparked by the question at the beginning of this blog entry. You can read the account here: http://www.reflectonthis.com/blog/2005/11/the_answer.html. I was very moved and inspired by his experience. It is wonderful that he found Islam, which filled a place in him and was a perfect fit. I have yet to find that fit, and am okay with that. While the prayers five times a day was a novel and thought provoking method of worship for me, the most attractive and enduring part of my experience was the people that I met. If being swayed into joining a religion was based solely on the community that one finds within it, I would be Muslim yesterday. The people I have been blessed to be introduced to, and the openness with which they accepted me and my attempts at understanding, and the resulting discussions about faith and religion and practice have been a very important part of my education during this experience. And one analogy that I will hark back to numerous times in the future is the idea that Islam, or any new experience or idea or faith, is like a pizza. When the delivery person comes to your door, you accept the entire pizza, even if you are only going to consume a slice or two right away. In this sense, Islam is the pizza – it is impossible to know all that it contains or means immediately or to eat it all in one sitting, but the faith should be accepted as a whole and studied and learned/understood over a lifetime. Which I intend to continue doing. I have contemplated making my Ramadan experience an annual event, and will continue to think on that as time passes, but I would like comments on that notion. Would making it a yearly thing eventually become offensive – would it become the play acting that I have been accused of? Does it matter, at that point, what my intentions are, or would outward appearance be more important? Obviously, I have not settled on an answer yet, which is why I would appreciate input.

As previously mentioned, I will continue to maintain this space as I keep reading and learning and reflecting. Thank you to all who joined me, directly or vicariously, on my journey, and I hope you enjoyed it, although it would be impossible to enjoy it nearly as much as I did!

2006-10-23T21:19:00.000-04:00

I just figured out how to make comments available!

I sincerely apologize to everyone who posted a comment - I just spent a great deal of time reading them all and greatly appreciate them. I believe I have made them available for everyone else to see (except for a couple that were marked private). Me and my lack of blog-saviness, that only on Eid, the end of Ramadan, have I figured it out!

So for everyone who has been reading the blog, take a minute (or several) and go back and read all the highly informational comments that people generously took the time to post in response to my queries.

I am still processing my experience, so will post a summative reflection in a couple of days, but wanted to say a few things now.

This past month has gone by so quickly. When I began, I worried what I had gotten myself into (i.e. could I handle my undertaking), and a month seemed like an eternity. Now, the opposite seems true, a month is very short and I feel like I handled the situation very well, and am already thinking of repeating the process next year.

A colleague seems to think that my experience is only quantifiable in the fact that I know when sunset is each day. She has asked me this question several times during the past month, as if that is all I have gotten out of the experience. I know that not everyone understands my motivations (and they certainly evolved over time, so are hard to keep track of), but I am sad that the effort does not seem more broad reaching than when iftar is.

I attended an iftar at school sponsored by the MSA, and was asked to speak briefly. I was listed on the agenda as having 15 minutes, which was a very daunting prospect. Happily for me, the evening ran behind, so I was able to explain my process, etc. briefly and answer the one question that was asked, which ran much under 15 minutes. Despite being a teacher, and speaking in the pseudo public situation that is a high school classroom on a daily basis, true public speaking is something that still makes me nervous. Cross that with the notion of speaking about something that has the potential to seem uber-personal to me at a given moment, and I was anxious. I believe it went well, and as always, people were very welcoming and wonderful to me before and after. In fact, a woman who will be working in our school’s career center had greeted me when I arrived at the iftar and wanted to know if I wore hijab to school everyday, and was very glad to hear that several teachers do, without concern. Honestly, our school is so diverse that it never even crossed my mind that I would have any trouble or upsetting encounters there; my curiosity had more to do with dealings out in the community. In fact, given absences today for Eid, the hallways were noticeably less crowded than normal during passing time, and markedly quieter too (not to imply that the Muslim students are the loud ones, just that the amassing of 1500 students moving between classes simultaneously can create quite a din!)

I got a gift of new clothes today for Eid. A student whom I have become friends with gave me a beautiful set of clothing that I will be wearing to school tomorrow (my first non-hijab day in more than a month). It is from her home country of Pakistan, and is lovely - both the outfit and the thought and generosity behind it. So I started this month with receiving material gifts for my journey, and end it with material gifts as well; and all along the way the understanding and support and interest in my endeavor have been non-quantifiable, intangible gifts that I can never repay except to again say "Thank you".

Lastly, for today, I intend to keep posting here as I continue to read all the books and websites that people have loaned and suggested to me, and watching the videos and DVDs as well. I have found this site to be a great way of processing my thoughts, feelings, questions, etc. and intend to continue to do so. And now that I have found out how to read and make comments available, it has been a great source of answers to my questions! One thing that I have learned this month is that there is so much that I don’t know that I don’t know, that all I can do is continue to learn by reading, and talking, and reflecting, and experiencing.

2006-10-17T17:19:00.000-04:00

Three iftars and a field trip later…

I have attended three iftars (breaking of the fast dinners during Ramadan) in the past four days.

Iftar one:
I was invited to the home of a colleague, who also invited another teacher to attend as well. This was a small gathering (the host, her husband, their two children, and three female guests, including myself) and I was the only one wearing hijab, which did not really occur to me until later. I have just gotten used to wearing it when I am not at home and I do not think about it.

I learned a lot at this iftar, as I spoke with the husband of my colleague (who has been reading this blog) and he was kind enough to clarify some points and enlighten me on others. I had known, prior to undertaking this experience, that there were Sunni and Shiite Muslims, but my knowledge of the differences between the groups was practically non-existent. I knew of the reason behind the split, had understood that theological differences between the two exist, and that the two groups do sometimes not get along at all (see sectarian violence in Iraq recently as an example). But I had never stopped to think about the differences in practice and tradition that would have developed over time; although I should have – my mother is Catholic and my father Congregationalist, and they have different practices even as they worship the same God in many similar ways. Anyway, I was told that the book I have been reading (Complete Idiot’s Guide to Understanding Islam) is based on Sunni practices and beliefs, rather than Shiite, and the masjids I have been attending are Sunni as well. When I undertook this endeavor, I never even thought: will I be Sunni, or will I be Shiite? I just thought I would be Muslim, which, honestly, seems now so uninformed and not completely thought out, since I knew of the existence, etc of the different sects. Anyway, I was informed at this iftar that two topics I have blogged about, divorce and zakah, differ between Sunni and Shiite. Apparently, for Shiite Muslims, divorce involves more than a declaration made three times, even for a divorce initiated by the husband. There have to be two witnesses involved, and it sounded like, an encouragement of counseling to try and prevent the divorce. Also, I was told, that while Sunnis consider 2.5% the correct amount for zakah, that Shiite Muslims give 20% and consider that correct (both groups cite from the Qur’an, but disagree on how the ayah should be interpreted).

Iftar two:
I was invited via a colleague to attend an iftar at the home of a woman I met at the Mustafa Center last Monday evening. I would guess there were about 60 or more people there. It was a very large gathering, with the women congregating in the living room and the men in the basement, which is also where almost everyone prayed before and after dinner. This was my first experience with the extra prayers for the “Night of Power”. The Night of Power is, according to many but not all Muslims (I have no idea on the differences between Sunni and Shiite Muslims on this issue), believed to occur sometime during the last 10 days of Ramadan. Some say anytime during the last 10 days, others say on odd nights during the last 10 days, etc. Anyway, the belief is that the prayers offered to Allah on that night are worth the prayers of one thousand months, so people stay longer at the masjid and pray more, hoping to benefit from this opportunity. At the iftar on Saturday night, 8 extra prayers were done. I was talking to a woman after the eight cycles had been completed, but before the singing began, and she asked for my impression of the extra prayers. I explained that since the surahs (excerpts from the Qur’an) were recited by the gentlemen leading the prayers in Arabic, I tended to sometimes go into a Zen-like state, where I was enjoying the cadence and tonal qualities of the recitation, without understanding what was being said. However, those times were very relaxing and I felt very “one with the universe”. The only problem with my mind drifting is that I lose count of the rakahs, and would often go to stand up and realize we were to remain kneeling or vice versa. I really enjoyed the singing (which was in English, so I could follow along) which was accompanied by a drummer.

Iftar three:
Last evening, more informal, 6 women (myself included), how many men I do not know, as they entered through a separate door into the basement, prayed and socialized down there while the women were in the living room. Additionally, the men waited for the hostess to tell them that the kitchen was empty so they could come and get dinner without mingling with the women. After dinner, my colleague, her mother, and I went back to the Mustafa Center for more extra evening prayers. I stayed for 10 of the 20, I believe, and left around 10 pm. The masjid was very crowded in the beginning but after about 8 of the 20 prayers had been completed it started to empty out, and rows were combined and more room was available for all.

Field trip:
On Saturday I went along with a group of students recruited by a fellow teacher to the Maryland Renaissance Festival. My role was only to assist on the bus, and I did not have any responsibility to monitor the students once they were at the Festival. Many of the students had arrived and were signing in, and I was standing around talking with other teachers, when the mother of a student approached me. She too was wearing hijab, asked if I would be going on the trip, and seemed very reassured when I answered in the affirmative. I was the only one she spoke to, asking me about what time I believed we would return, and what her daughter was doing at that moment. I sort of felt like a fraud, because she was reassured by the presence of a Muslim woman it seemed, which I am not. Not wanting to get into a long explanation of my personal journey, however, I let her believe that I was what I appeared to be. I hope this was not a faux pas or truly disingenuous on my part.

The field trip did enable me to see the friend that I wrote about earlier. A friend/fellow teacher was able to act as a dual chaperone – for the students and for myself and my friend who happens to be male – the three of us spent the day together at the Festival.

One thing I have to say at this point is that I was worried at the outset of this experience that I would be unintentionally offending Muslims with whom I came into contact. However, reality has been so very different. Everyone I have met has been so welcoming, even people I have never met before: willing to provide information or resources, inviting me into their homes and truly making me feel that I am a real part of the community. I knew before I began (in an intellectual way) that community was something very important to Muslims, but the reality is so much more than that: women I have never met saying “asalam alaikum” to me in the mall, getting hugs from women I meet at the masjid or at an iftar, having people want to meet me because of what I am doing and who may have been reading this blog (which as I told someone on Saturday evening is a little weird: at times it feels as if people I have never met are reading my most private thoughts and feelings, which I guess I have invited you all to do!). And the most recent generosity: I received just this afternoon a CD of Hamza Yusuf in the mail, a gift from a woman I was introduced to last week at the Mustafa Center.

P.S. Success! I was able to successfully make and distribute some of the apple cakes (with halal vanilla) yesterday, with a few more to make this weekend.

2006-10-12T12:27:00.000-04:00

In trying to be appreciative, I gave haraam gifts to two of my friends.

Over this past weekend, I set out to thank people who have been so kind to me over the past several weeks. Since people have often gifted me with food or invited me to attend meals, I thought an appropriate thank you would be a home-baked-from-an-old-family-recipe apple cake. I made enough for four thank you gifts, one for myself, and another to take to school to share with my colleagues. It was only on Monday evening, after I had already handed out one of them to a friend (and watched her twin 3 year old sons each eat a piece) that she asked if it was halal. I asked what she meant, since there is no meat in the cake (and as a vegetarian, my kitchen is close to kosher), and she mentioned vanilla. I thought about it, said that I use real vanilla, and believed that it was all right. Honestly, I had never even considered that the vanilla I used in the cakes might contain alcohol. When I got home that night I checked my cabinet, and lo and behold – my pure vanilla extract contains quite a high concentration of alcohol! I felt terrible; I felt like I had poisoned her sons. The next morning, I immediately emailed the two recipients of the cake thus far and informed them that they should not eat any more of it, and why. I know that my intentions were good, which counts for a lot in Islam, but I also knew about the prohibition on alcohol, and feel like I should have considered the vanilla angle, since I know baking extracts often contain alcohol (the peppermint extract in my kitchen is even more potent than the vanilla I discovered). I will spend this weekend finding acceptable vanilla and making new cakes to appropriately show my appreciation to those whom have been so generous to me. And my colleagues at school yesterday got the gift of several apple cakes to enjoy.

One of the reasons I have so much to be thankful for was the invitation to attend a fundraising iftar for the Al-Qalam Academy this past Monday evening. The evening began with a prayer after breaking the fast with dates, bread, and water. The women were on one side of a divided ballroom from the men, and there was no microphone set up to allow the women to fully hear the prayer being given on the men’s side, but we were near the door connecting the two rooms, so were able to make due.

The dinner featured several speakers, all knowledgeable, but some who I agreed with and enjoyed listening to more than others. The first speaker on the program was Imam Safi Kahn who began his remarks by relaying “horror stories” (his words, not mine) about parents who come to him and say “we should have listened to you”. Instead, they sent their children to public schools, where they “lost them” when they “became Christian”. As a Christian-raised public school teacher, I was somewhat offended by these comments. I understand that for some parents there are elements or influences at public schools that they would prefer their children avoid or not be exposed to. However, when I was in high school (a public one), I had friends who attended private schools (both secular and religious) and the stories they told of outrageous behavior (including drinking, partying, etc.) put to shame anything I ever heard about at my own school. Additionally, much of what I have read and heard talks about the respect that Islam has for Christianity and Judaism, given the common roots of the religion, and in the early days of Islam (and prior) they referred to the other faiths as the “people of the book”. Imam Kahn also talked about parents being afraid to name or call their children Islamic names, he mentioned that Mohammad becomes Mike, and Abdullah becomes Abner. Given that I have two students with the first name Mohammad, and one with that last name (and many other students with names of various ethnicities), but no students named Mike, and certainly none named Abner, I do not believe this fear to be manifesting itself in the D.C. metropolitan area.

The second speaker was Imam Zaid Shakir (for bio see http://www.zaytuna.org/teacherMore.asp?id=10) who spoke of the importance of teaching young sisters the Qur’an and encouraging them to memorize it [for an interesting article on young people who have memorized the Qur’an see http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/09/30/AR2006093000976.html), and highlighting the fact that the first compilation of the Qur’an was entrusted to a woman. He also mentioned the idea that in Islam the “best of you learn the Qur’an and teach it to others”, and that the Al-Qalam Academy (which the fundraiser was for) is providing the needed generation of pious, upright, strong Muslim women which is so important as they will be the mothers of the next generation of Muslims.

Imam Zaid mentioned that he would not be focusing on the failure of the public school system, but proceeded to talk about the recent spate of school shootings that targeted females, and stated “that if we need a reminder that we need to put our students in a place that we can secure” such were these events. Having just recently attended a training on school crisis plans, including how to deal with school issues before they get to the point of a student instigated shooting, as well as how to deal with the reality of such a horrible situation, I believe that the recent Amish school shooting on the same day as a potentially dangerous situation in Clark County, Nevada (the 5th largest school district in the nation) proves that there is no school immune from this trend, even when people choose to separate themselves from other parts of society. Or maybe, particularly when they choose to separate themselves from society; the Amish shooting was not carried out by a current student, or an alumnus, or a member of the community, it was an outsider who invaded that space to a tragic end. One thing that Imam Zaid talked about needing to be addressed by Islamic schools is the reality that Muslims in the U.S. have to struggle to secure their rights and protect their existence, and a public school might erode the understanding of this struggle or of its primacy, particularly troubling when parents will be sending their children out into a world that is anti-Islamic. I understand (in theory if not from personal experience) that Muslims in the United States and elsewhere in the world feel and are persecuted and are portrayed as and believed to be terrorists, fanatics, or extremists. However, I do not believe that the best way to have people change their feelings and opinions and behaviors about a group is to completely cut yourself off from the people who misunderstand you. Imam Zaid said that Islam “is only perpetuated through knowledge”. The same is true of understanding a religion – exposure to and interaction with it and its followers is the best way to gain real knowledge of Islam and to change minds. I guess this goes back to my comments on learning to live in the world and my opinion on segregation by gender: living and learning together with people of different faiths only serves to highlight the similarities between people and faiths, and can only serve to break down barriers rather than make them stronger and taller.

The last speaker of the evening was Hamza Yusuf (for a brief bio see http://www.zaytuna.org/teacherMore.asp?id=9), and frankly, although he talked longer than the other speakers (I believe), I took many fewer notes, so enthralled was I by his message and his method of delivering it. Here was a man who was obviously very knowledgeable on a broad range of subjects, who could ultimately connect what seemed very tangential back to his original point, in such a way as to be captivating and inspiring and energizing. I can only aspire to be that engaging and knowledgeable as a teacher myself one day. Hamza Yusuf also spoke about the Amish school shooting, and about the idea that the Amish felt it necessary to separate themselves from society in order to live life as they feel it should be lived; presented like that I understand more the idea of a Muslim school or community. However, I still doubt that such a deliberate separation will yield the understanding that Islam seems to crave (and deserves) from the rest of the world.

Hamza Yusuf equated being a good Muslim to being a good human; he talked about needing to tread lightly on the world, to have less impact than Americans generally do (including the crazy notion and common practice of individual automobile ownership in the United States and later the depletion of fish populations due to over fishing). He talked about working for the world as if you will live forever, but working for your afterlife or day of judgment as if you will die tomorrow, and I cannot disagree. The earth (ideally) will be around and habitable for many generations to come, and all humans need to be respectful of that. Additionally, being kind and considerate to your fellow humans and doing what is needed to have a clean, clear conscience is also an important aspect of being a responsible member of society. Personally, rather than considering how my actions will be judged by others or at the pearly gates or by Allah on Judgment Day, I tend to make decisions that I simply feel are right or it is the action that needs to be taken.

After the fundraising iftar, we (my gracious host and I) headed to the Mustafa Center, where Imam Zaid and Hamza Yusuf were to be speaking again. I had never been inside the sanctuary of a masjid, and this one was lovely (as Hamza Yusuf also remarked). My gracious host also made sure that I was introduced to both gentlemen, Imam Zaid at the iftar and Hamza Yusuf outside the masjid. It was as I was waiting to be introduced to Hamza Yusuf that I had my first experience with religious groupies (and I mean this in a really good way). There was quite a crowd inside the masjid when we arrived, people who had heard that Imam Zaid and Hamza Yusuf would be speaking there, and afterwards outside, there were groups of people waiting, it seemed as if they were hoping to see, meet, speak to Hamza Yusuf up close (more women than men I think, since the women sat in the back of the masjid, and were not as able to see him as he spoke). I now consider myself an ardent member of the religious groupies of Hamza Yusuf, and will be checking out his pod casts that I was told exist. On the “religious groupies” designation: it was refreshing to see people so interested in being close to someone who is not a professional athlete, movie or music star, but rather someone urging them to live better lives.

P.S. Hamza Yusuf and Karen Armstrong (author of the biography of Muhammad that I am reading) were featured in a really good video I just watched titled Muammad: legacy of a prophet.

2006-10-08T20:27:00.000-04:00

I have a lot to say today.

I was afraid that I would be late to the mosque today for Qur’an class. I was walking down the stairs from my apartment when I stopped upon realizing that I was wearing blue jeans, and was not sure that was appropriate for the mosque (had I been going for prayers, I would not have worn jeans, or even considered it), but the class is held in a room with chairs that is just part of the building or school, and not in the sanctuary. I stood there for what felt like several minutes, walked out to my car and proceeded to try to call several people who I thought could guide me. I was unable to reach anyone to answer my concern, so returned upstairs and changed into slacks and other shoes (rather than the sneakers I had on previously). There was one woman at the class who was wearing jeans, but she was the only one, and I believe I was more comfortable for having changed.

The ayahs that the teacher and group were discussing today began with Chapter 17 Verse 26 which in the Qur’an I recently purchased reads: “Give relatives their due, and the needy, and travelers – do not squander your wealth wastefully” which led to a discussion of zakah (helping those less fortunate than yourself) which is one of the five pillars of Islam. Zakah is 2.5% of net profits or salary in a given year, but only if you can spare it; if you need it for ongoing medical treatment, for example, then do not give zakah. The teacher explained that Muslims give that money because it belongs to Allah anyway, and anything beyond that is not zakah, which is mandated, but is simply charity. My only point of comparison is tithing in the Catholic Church, which is supposed to be 10% of the gross salary in a given month, each month. Now, I am sure than there are many Catholics who do not tithe (including myself, a lapsed Catholic), but I guess 2.5% just seems small in comparison. I have no numbers or studies to cite how much charity is given by Muslims each year, or by Catholics, so I can only comment on the concept. Mandated charitable giving is a wonderful idea, especially if it accomplishes what we have set out to do: help those in need. Muslims, I have learned, are supposed to help those close to them first, beginning with family, if no family is in need, then neighbors, but always fellow Muslims before non-Muslims, since Muslims consider themselves a large extended family.

We also got to another ayah a little further along that states “Do not kill your children for fear of poverty – We shall provide for them and for you – killing them is a great sin.” This lead to a discussion of family planning (which is allowed for numerous reasons, just not fear of being able to support the child) and abortion (before 120 days when the baby receives their soul, and only in cases where the mother’s life is in danger). We were told that Allah will provide for each child sufficient sustenance; when a woman becomes pregnant sufficient sustenance is set aside for that child, and the parents are not to worry. I asked a question during this time regarding how this idea is reconciled with famine stricken areas of the world, where children die from malnutrition on an alarmingly regular basis (or for that matter, in our own rich country), since there is a lack of sufficient sustenance. The answer I was given was that the child dies due to our crime, our neglect, for failing to provide for the poor and allowing them to die. I both agree and disagree, since it was sounding to me as if Allah was saying that Allah would provide sustenance directly or personally, rather than through an intermediary. Going back and reading the ayah again, I am still not sure how I feel, because the use of “we” could be a royal “we” meaning Allah, or could be plural indicating the Muslim people as a whole. Either way, I feel that mothers in those areas of the world are right to fear bringing that child into such a situation, knowing that they cannot provide sustenance, and the rest of world can or will not either.

Today was the second time I had attended Qur’an class at the mosque, therefore my second experience entering through a door reserved for women and children. The room where the class is held has chairs on the left for men and chairs on the right for women. Women enter the door on the right side of the room, and men the left. Both weeks, there have been many more women than men at the class, and the women ended up sitting in the doorway, along the back of the room (behind, but not beside the men on the left side), and out in the hallway. I understand the rationale behind this division, but all that keeps running through my head is “separate but equal is inherently unequal”. I kind of relate my feelings on this practice to my feelings on single gender colleges. I understand all the statistics that tout how successful women become who attend all female colleges. However, I keep coming back to the notion that you have to deal with men and women in the world – in business, etc – so how will living sheltered from half of the population prepare you to do so? Granted, I was temporarily distracted from the teacher today by a good looking gentleman on the other side of the room (there is no curtain to prevent me from being thus distracted). However, I was also distracted at times by people entering and leaving the room, young boys running down the stairs outside the room and banging the door, and admiring the very beautiful, colorful scarves of the women on my side of the room. Distractions come in all forms, and learning to deal with them, and not get swept up by them, is a part of being an adult (i.e. my distraction with the handsome gentleman was not permanent or even very long in duration, and I returned my interest to the discussion at hand).

Obviously, gender in Islam is something I am still struggling to understand fully. One last example of this was the issue of how to contact the people who attend the class if it has to be cancelled. The teacher indicated that he would like two female and two male volunteers who attend every week to supply their phone numbers or email addresses to him so that he could contact them if he would be unable to attend unexpectedly. This way, the females could contact the other women, and the males could contact the other men to pass this message along, but would not involve any sharing of email addresses or phone numbers between the genders. This seems overly cautious to me. How dangerous or tempting is it to call and leave a message for a member of the opposite sex that class on Sunday has been cancelled? Is it so likely that men and women will be unable to control themselves if they find in their possession the contact information for someone of the opposite sex? I know that women are (generally) only supposed to associate with male members of their family and not any others (socially), but this seems extreme and strikes me as pessimistic and as having low expectations of the ability of people to be responsible and mature and committed to their principles and their spouse. And what about the teacher (and any substitutes) – they will be in possession of the contact information for two women in the class – will they not be tempted to call and make contact when none is warranted?

2006-10-06T11:34:00.000-04:00

Random Friday Thoughts:

I just learned that my blog address has been disseminated to all the IBMYP (International Baccalaureate Middle Years Program) teachers at my high school and one of the feeder middle schools (and that it was referred to be of “instructional use”!). I am flattered and a little nervous, this journey of mine is getting more (and broader) attention than I had believed it would generate. Welcome to everyone joining for the first time as a result of this invitation! I hope to do our school community right through my endeavor and my chronicling of it.

On an entirely separate note, my hijab wearing is making my banjo lessons more difficult (I know that is a weird mental picture for me as well). Let me explain – I signed up to take banjo lessons before embarking of this experience and when I practice at home, I do so in a t-shirt and bare headed. When I attend class at a local middle school, I am wearing long sleeves and hijab. The sleeves cause only minor adjustment in the effort, but the folds of fabric covering my ears makes it harder to tune the banjo and to accurately hear the notes I am playing. I imagine that if my hijab wearing was a common occurrence, I would have adapted to this discrepancy more readily, but for now it is another adjustment during this month.

I am currently looking for a chaperone so that I can see a (male) friend of mine this weekend. I have not seen him since Ramadan began since we are both single and are not supposed to be alone together (alone, or in public). This is very weird for me. I grew up with the ability/option to have friends of either gender, and to have developed that relationship and now not be able to continue in the way I am accustomed is odd. I never thought anything of hanging out with him before this. We have much in common (love of movies, both social studies teachers, etc) and talk about what is going on in our respective lives as friends do, and it is weird to not be able to directly share this experience with him. He reads my blog and we talk on the phone, but it is not what I am used to.

Anyway, enjoy your weekend. I am going back to the mosque on Sunday for more Qur’an class and to a dinner with a speaker hosted by the Zaytuna Institute in Washington, D.C. on Monday evening at the invitation of a fellow teacher, and I have been reading Muhammad: The Biography of the Prophet by Karen Armstrong. The learning continues on all fronts.

2006-10-04T18:36:00.000-04:00

One good thing about fasting:

As a teacher, I do not have to leave the classroom to go to the restroom (since the fasting includes no consumption of water)!

2006-10-02T20:02:00.000-04:00

What’s my motivation?

I attended a workshop off campus today and sat down to lunch with the other participants, since I did not want to miss out on any shop talk by being absent. The other participants enquired about why I was not eating lunch, and I stated that it was Ramadan. After several moments of conversation about the issue of fasting, when Ramadan had begun, etc. I mentioned that I am not actually Muslim and proceeded to explain what I am attempting to do. Later I got to thinking “Why did I do that?” and I have no real explanation. Was I trying to impress them with the lengths to which I will go to try to be a better teacher and person? Was I uncomfortable with the notion that they believe I am truly Muslim? Did I want them to know the situation so that if I blundered at any time, they would understand why? Do I not feel that I am doing a legitimate job in my attempts to be Muslim, and therefore need to disassociate myself from the “real thing” unlike “pretenders” like myself? As I continue to ponder this unnecessary revelation, I still have no answers.

On another subject, I find that I am becoming increasingly comfortable wearing hijab. In the beginning, it took me longer to get ready in the morning as I have to pull my hair back and secure it, apply hairspray (I had to dig out an old and mostly unused can) in order to dissuade the wisps of hair near my temple from straying loose, then arrange the hijab, and secure it. Now it takes me no longer than my generally minimalist morning preparations used to take me. Additionally, I find that when I get home and take it off (usually in the bathroom in order to leave the pins where I can find them in the morning) and see myself in the mirror, I look weird without it. Time will tell if this remains true come the end of Ramadan. I have found that I sometimes have trouble hearing with it on, though, since several folds of fabric often cover my ears; and I miss driving with the windows down and enjoying the wind blowing through my hair.

I went to the mosque near school on Sunday with one of my students for Qur’an class. The several hour long lecture with question and answer times was focused on about half a dozen ayah (loosely but not entirely accurately translated as verses, the lecturer told us) dealt with the importance of free will when accepting Allah, choosing the right and not the wrong path, as well as honoring your parents. It was very interesting, and I intend to return next week. One woman there was a recent convert to Islam, and after this announcement was made, many women got up and gave her hugs and kisses to welcome her to the faith; so it seems that the openness and welcoming of the female members of the faith is broader than my experience alone. I say female because the three teachers I spoke with at school and who have been so supportive are female. There is one male teacher who is Muslim that I am aware of, but for some reason, I never thought to approach him with my idea. Anyway, that evening I went to the home of that same student and was again made to feel very welcome by her entire family – mother, father, two sisters, brother, brother-in-law, and niece and nephew. Upon my departure, I was given another prayer rug and more books and pamphlets on Islam as well as enough leftovers for breakfast and dinner today, with more for tomorrow. My list of thank you notes continues to grow, but I am very appreciative and pleased that it is so.

2006-09-30T06:49:00.000-04:00

“That sounds interesting, I guess”

Well, I told my mother last night about what I have been doing – I would have told her earlier except my father will be undergoing major surgery in a little over a week so that was the topic of many conversations, and then they have been traveling on the West Coast, so it has been hard to get in touch with them to do more than say Hi, or I got home safely from my trip. Anyway, I told my mother last night. I would say that I was not surprised, but maybe disappointed, by her reaction or lack thereof. The title of this post is a quote from our conversation. She had some of the same questions that other people had, but parents just have a way of saying things sometimes that can rub us the wrong way. She wanted to know why, what my endeavor encompassed, and whether I was thinking of converting, but it was the phrasing that made me feel that she was less than supportive. Partly, this is my fault. I waited to tell her until it was already underway, additionally my mother has always been very involved in her church for my whole life (and I used to be as well), and I think that she wishes I would return to active participation in the Catholic Church. She wanted to know if there were aspects of Islam that really appealed to me, and I said somethings, yes, but somethings I believe that I disagree with (all this pending more knowledge to be gained on my part). I guess too that I had gotten my hopes up. I have gotten such positive responses from other people, and I was hoping for the same from her. But then I remind myself that I did not start this so that people would think that I was cool or innovative or more anything than anyone else. I started this for me, and I need to keep that at the forefront of my mind. In the end, maybe I am glad I waited to tell her, since maybe she would have talked me out of it if I had discussed it with her earlier.

I also got the feeling that she thought I was being hypocritical, since she expressed concern that I was boiling down the entire faith to several outward aspects (prayer, fasting, and hijab). I sincerely hope that I have not done that; I have been trying my best to be genuine and sincere and live as much as a Muslim as I know how (I learn more everyday), and believe that by the end of the month I will be doing a better job of it, but that was the point – to learn more by doing than I could have purely through study. For example, from my reading and discussions with friends believed that women were exempt (but could still participate) from fasting when they had their period, but learned just yesterday that fasting and prayer are prohibited during this time of the month. I may never have made that distinction had I not been actively trying to adhere to Muslim practices 24 hours a day 7 days a week for the month of Ramadan. This is another issue on which my opinion is divided. I completely understand that if Allah tells you not to pray or fast when you have your period, you take that gift and do not contradict Allah. On the other hand, it makes me feel as if something is wrong with me during my period, that I am unclean, and therefore unworthy of praising Allah or participating in Ramadan (I will have to make up the fast days later) just for experiencing something biological, natural that happens to a large portion of the population on a regular basis.

2006-09-29T08:53:00.000-04:00

More generosity: a gift of dates from the Arabic teacher/MSA sponsor, Apricot Paste from a student, scarves to borrow from a fellow teacher along with the offer to give me hijab pinning lessons. These three women have already given me so much (materially and informational-ly) that my debt and gratitude to them continues to grow. Additionally, a former student who is herself Muslim told me that she was proud of me for what I was doing. I am glad that my intentions have not been misunderstood by the Muslim community within my school – I have been made to feel so welcome, so included, that it has been a wonderful experience so far, and no one has, to me anyway, conveyed any disapproval of my endeavor since Ramadan has begun.

I have decided to speak to the school newspaper, mostly because I feel comfortable enough to do so, but partly to dispel rumors that are circulating around the school among faculty and students. Apparently, one story is that I married a Muslim gentleman and that is why I am wearing hijab, another theory is that I personally converted (no man involved). That is one thing about working in a high school – the teachers are as bad as the students in the way that we gossip and speculate about each other! Some adults have come up and asked me about what is going on, and I have happily explained. I do understand that many people whom I do not know that well may not feel comfortable broaching the subject with me; but I guess I feel that if you want to know the real story, you should go to the source rather than gossiping about it (which I know from personal experience is easier said than done!).

In terms of being treated differently I believe it is too soon to tell, and I need more outside-of-school experiences to see if I feel I am being treated differently. But in school I have noticed (or think I have noticed, it could be my overactive imagination) that other females wearing hijab look at me with a glance of recognition, an identification that we are similar because we are wearing scarves in a world and a school where we are a minority. Hijab is fairly common at my school, and I could not hazard a guess at percentages, but I would say it is in the dozens rather than the hundreds.

Friday prayer is conducted each week in the Student Commons across from our Cafeteria (also where the Muslim students who are fasting congregate during the lunch periods during Ramadan so they do not have to be in the Cafeteria). I am going to attend today for my first exposure to collective Muslim prayer. Up to this point, I have been praying on my own at home, so this will be a new experience. I am both excited and nervous, as with much of this experience to date. Excited for the additional knowledge and understanding this will afford me, but nervous because although I have been following a guide to do my prayers I continue to worry that I am doing something wrong and will therefore blunder in public.

2006-09-28T14:02:00.000-04:00

A Return to Earth

I just want to start off saying that I know the issues I wrote about in my last post are not the basis for the Muslim faith, or even at the center (except for the idea of equality of the sexes). They are, however, things that I have been pondering during this past week and previously as well.

On that note, I am taking a step back from the philosophical aspect of my experience and into the realm of personal experience.

People keep confusing me with another teacher at my school – the Principal, other teachers, students – because we are both fair skinned and wearing hijab (and they are accustomed to seeing her do so). The first time I saw some of my students this week they mistook me for a substitute. Some seem very interested in my endeavor, but one put it all into perspective for me: he wanted to know if I was still going to sell them breakfast even though I was fasting. For some it seems to make no difference at all; which is good, I guess, since that means I am no different whether I am wearing hijab or not, and I am the same person whether my religion is the same or different than theirs. That makes me really happy. Several female students I had never met came by to say that they thought what I was doing was really cool (they identified themselves as Muslim), and that they had heard about it from a friend.

I have gotten better at donning my hijab, and no longer end up with a mark on my chin at the end of the day the way I did on Monday. However, fasting is getting harder. Monday was really easy, I hardly felt hungry at all, but today I am hungrier than yesterday, and yesterday I was hungrier than the day before. I hope this plateaus, or I am going to be in trouble!

I have been invited to the home of one of my students (the President of the MSA) for dinner on Sunday. We are meeting at school in the morning to go to a lecture at the mosque nearby on the Principles of Islam. I am honored at the invitation in their home, but am a little nervous that I will be expected to know more than I do about the faith and the associated customs. Additionally, this student asked me today if I could convert. I told her that I am not saying I will never convert, but that it was a really serious decision, and one that I would not take lightly and have to think about for a long time before reaching a conclusion. I also told her that my goal was not conversion when I began this process; I am simply seeking greater understanding.

2006-09-27T08:24:00.000-04:00

Original Sin and Equality among the Sexes?

I continue to read The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Understanding Islam by Yahiya Emerick, and have not finished it. Some of the ideas in today’s post I have discussed with a resource-friend, others I have not but plan to, in order to clarify my understanding of the issue.

There are things in Islam that make a lot of sense to me, and in some ways appeal more than the concepts in Christianity (the religion of my upbringing). For example, Islam does not have a belief in original sin, but instead believes that “we are all born pure” (Emerick, 43). I like this idea better, and, in fact, it gels with my questioning of the concept of original sin in Christianity. How can someone who has never had the chance to do wrong or offend or have the wrong intentions be sinful at birth? Additionally, the idea that the original sin was passed down from Adam and Eve is incongruous with my personal notion of individual responsibility and accountability. I do not believe that sins are passed on to the child from the parents, so how can sin be passed from someone generations ago to someone born today?

And while I have, at times, questioned the idea of Jesus as the literal “Son of God” I do believe that he was killed on a cross, which (as I have read) the Qur’an denies (Emerick, 43). I understand that Muslims consider Jesus to be a very important prophet, along with Abraham and others, but they do not consider Jesus any more unique than the others. I can live with that notion, but do believe that the martyrdom did occur, and believe that he could have risen from the dead (since all things are possible with God’s assistance).

Additionally, I like the concept of no clergy. I believe that I have the ability and the right to talk directly to God (again, back to my recent Reformation unit, way to go Martin Luther!) and do not need an intermediary or middleman to communicate on my behalf, or to go to seek forgiveness for my sins. As well, I have always disagreed with the Catholic Church on the issue of women as priests. I believe that gender does not make anyone more or less worthy or capable of serving God. The sexism that I believe this engenders within the entire Church hierarchy bothers me. But then, I see some of that in Islam. I have read, in several different sources, that men and women are equal before Allah, which is a concept I can support wholeheartedly. However, there are specifics that I feel contradict that notion. In order to obtain a divorce, men only need to proclaim that intention three times. Women can instigate a divorce, but need to file papers with an Islamic court or with a recognized scholar asking to divorce her husband. “Although she doesn’t need the permission of her husband, she does need a compelling reason” (Emerick, 262). How is this equal? If men and women were equal before Allah, then the requirements would be the same for both of them – either just making the statement to start the process or filing papers. Are women more prone to flights of fancy, or more likely to get irritated at their husband “during that time of the month” and divorce him for no good reason? It sounds like men are potentially more likely to make that statement in a fit of pique, since they need not have a compelling reason. There was an interesting story in the news earlier this year (http://abcnews.go.com/International/wireStory?id=1776288) about a man who divorced his wife in his sleep. If that is a viable (maybe only in the village that decided that sleep talking was enforceable intent) divorce, with no or so little concrete intention from the husband, how, if women have to have a “compelling reason” is this equal?

While I live in the United States, which does not allow polygyny, I take exception to the notion that men can have multiple wives, but women cannot have multiple husbands. Ideally, I feel that marriage is a commitment between two people (one man and one woman, two men, or two women) and only two people, but feel the issue should be balanced – what is good for the goose is good for the gander? I understand that the role of women and men in Islam is different and defined. Men are responsible for taking care of women (wife, mother, sister, etc.), and women need not return the favor by contributing monetarily to the maintenance of the household. However, I take umbrage with the idea that if men have a propensity for sleeping around, it is better to have multiple wives rather than one wife and a mistress or two. As someone going through a divorce because of infidelity on my husband’s part, I have a personal stake (and potentially biased opinion) regarding this aspect of this issue, and have no interest in staying in a marriage with someone who cannot be faithful to the marriage vows we exchanged. I also understand that polygyny is not that commonly practiced anymore, however it is the idea that bothers me, I guess. Another reason given for polygyny being acceptable is if a woman is barren and unable to have children; therefore it is better for her husband to marry a second women rather than subjecting the first wife to being “divorced and cast aside in favor of a fertile wife” (Emerick, 261). What if a man is impotent and unable to sire children? Is this an acceptable reason for a wife to initiate divorce proceedings with her husband? What about her ability to marry a second man in order to have children, while not abandoning or casting aside her first husband?

As I stated at the top of this post, I am continuing to learn about the faith and practices of Islam, through reading and talking to people who know much more than I. If someone wishes to clarify, or disagree with, something I have said here please feel free to comment.

2006-09-25T11:25:00.000-04:00

Praying the wrong direction, a hoodie to the rescue, and hijab slippage…

On Sunday morning, I faced the wrong direction for my prayers. I was visiting a friend out of town and thought that I had put everything I needed for prayer in the hallway, so that I could get up and not disturb anyone. A robe, the prayer rug, the book I was using for the prayers and instructions. However, I forgot my compass. So I was standing in the hallway, trying to remember which direction North had been when last I looked at the compass, thought I knew which way was East toward Mecca, and went through the steps of the Fajr prayers. When I discovered later that I was wrong (and not a little wrong), part of me felt terrible because I know that an important part of the prayer is to face Mecca, but part of me felt that I was trying really hard, and surely Allah would understand my well intentioned fumblings.

This morning, I was reading a different instruction book on Salāh, and found out that I was supposed to have my head covered during prayer. Putting on a hijab is still a very time consuming activity for me, and I needed to pray before 5:44am, which was swiftly approaching. Then, hopeful inspiration! I grabbed a red hooded sweatshirt (insert mental clip of Adam Sandler singing his song of the same name) from the closet, donned that (with hood up) over my pajamas, and went about my morning prayers. I spoke with one of my “resource-friends” this morning who indicated that she also uses this at times for prayer. This instruction book that a friend gave me last night (The Beginner’s Book of Salāh) is much easier to understand, and gives clear instructions on body position (standing, hands clasped, bowing, prostrating, etc.) along with the text that goes with it (in Arabic, in English, and in phonetics so that I can attempt to pronounce the Arabic).

I hope that I will master the donning of the hijab before my month is over. Even if I feel like I have fastened it tightly at my throat/chin, it will still slide forward on my forehead. I tried to counter this today with a safety pin attaching the scarf to a barrette that holds my hair back; it is an improvement in that it reduces the slippage, but not entirely. In addition to my struggles with the proper positioning of the hijab, I felt vain when I first tried them on. As I mentioned previously, I was given a gift of four scarves to wear as hijab. On Friday afternoon, I went home to try them on and practice fastening them. I immediately decided that I liked two of the four better for two reasons: they are larger, so I can tie the ends and drape them around the back of my neck, and they look prettier on me. The other two make me look even paler than normal. Even as I was triaging the scarves in this way, I was feeling that I was not being “Muslim enough”. I understand that the idea of the hijab is modesty, and to “cover your beauty” as one of my resource-friends put it. I felt hypocritical deciding which was the hijab that made me feel prettier than the others, when that feels like it should be the opposite of my goal.

2006-09-22T17:53:00.000-04:00

People keep volunteering me for things...

The MSA hosts a dinner for students, their family members, faculty, etc. for Eid. My Principal asked me to share my month of experiences with whoever is assembled at that time. I have said yes, but need to check with the MSA to find out if that is all right with them, and I need to decide as my month progresses if this is something that I am comfortable sharing or want to keep for myself.

Then my Assistant Principal mentioned my endeavor to the Journalism teacher at school, and (I guess?) suggested that the school paper do a story about me and my month as a Muslim. I am friends with the Journalism teacher, so I sent her the link to this blog, but my initial reaction was “don’t talk to me, I am new to this, and am not sure I know what I am talking about.” I asked her to have the student journalists talk to the people I have been talking to: the MSA sponsor, the other teachers in the school who are Muslim; they are much better sources of information than I, and they have been my resources. I guess they want to do a profile on me and find out about my experience. However, all this attention is unnerving. I am beginning to feel like a fraud. I am only spending a month walking in someone else’s shoes, the people to talk to regarding their experiences as a Muslim are the people who are Muslim 365 days a year, not just for 30 days. While I enjoy the television show of the same name, and it does often provide insight for that person into their own biases, stereotypes, etc and hopefully, change their mind about things, they are no experts on the topic by the end of that month; nor do I feel that I will be. The only thing I will know is how I felt, and I am not sure how I feel about that being public knowledge.

That sounds weird to type into a blog that is available for anyone with a computer and internet access to read, but I conceived the idea of this coming month as a very personal journey. I intended for it to be a time for me to learn about myself, about a faith that is largely a mystery to me, and a chance to see if the world at large treats me differently. This could ultimately end up being an intensely personal experience, and I tend to see this blog as a diary that other people just happen to read. I have not described myself to the world at large specifically enough to be identified by people who do not already know me. The reason I went to the Administration in the first place was the knowledge that wearing the hijab at school and in the community will be very public, and I felt it only right to get their OK before proceeding, alerting them that they might receive questions about me. I understand that there are aspects to this that cannot help be anything but public, but I have to decide what I am comfortable making public beyond that. And only time can provide that.

2006-09-22T06:05:00.000-04:00

On Religion and Interpretation of Texts

Having just finished teaching a unit on “Renaissance and Reformation” I was pondering the translation of religious texts into various languages. Having been raised Catholic (and born after the switch from Latin masses), I have only ever read and listened to excerpts from the Bible in English. Part of me believes this to be a wonderful thing. I can understand and read the religious text of my parents and ancestors in my everyday language, one of which I have a strong grasp; and I feel that I have Martin Luther to thank for that, since he took a risk by criticizing practices of the Catholic Church, including not really allowing people to read the Bible for themselves, and having it only available in Latin. But then I think that things get lost in translation. Different editions of the Bible have different phrasing for very important concepts, potentially leading to misunderstandings of what God passed down, or to disagreements between sincere believers. And although the Qur'an is only supposed to be quoted in prayer in the original Arabic, the words of Allah are still just as open to misinterpretation, as we have seen recently in the situation begun by the current Pope, who seems to have one understanding of what Allah meant by “jihad”, which is in complete contrast to what Muslims I have talked to believe Allah intended. I fear that if our religious and secular leaders seem to take such little interest in truly understanding one another, what can the laity do to help improve communication and consideration between religions that, in my mind, have much more in common than not?

2006-09-21T22:20:00.000-04:00

More generosity this morning: the loan of more books, as well as invitations to people's homes for evening meals, and a continuing influx of information. I am really looking forward to this weekend, but feel much like my students often must: I have so much homework (i.e. reading) to do!

2006-09-20T21:15:00.000-04:00

I have been telling more people about the endeavor on which I am about to embark, and I have received mostly positive feedback. The several Muslim women in my school whom I consulted prior to my official decision were so generous to me todaythat I am overwhelmed. One, a student of mine who is president of our Muslim Student Association (MSA), had previously offered to procure several scarves for me. Today I was presented with a bag of four beautiful and varied scarves, and was also told that I would not be allowed to pay her for them, that they were a gift. Not much later I was talking to the teacher who sponsors the MSA, asking her questions regarding prayer times and procedure, and I queried her on the appropriate rug to use for that purpose. What I was looking for was a description in terms of dimensions, and whether it had to be made specifically for that purpose. She offered me one of several prayer rug s that she keeps in her classroom for students to use to pray; then she opened a cabinet and offered me a robe to wear during prayer. Lastly, a fellow teacher who is a relatively recent convert to Islam willingly spent her entire lunch break answering my questions about the varying levels of modesty that women in Islam adhere to, further clarifying for me the role of women and men in Muslim society, as well as her own thoughts and feelings prior to and after her conversion. This willingness to welcome me into their faith, even temporarily, has amazed and inspired me. I always intended to do my best to be faithful to the teachings and practices of Islam as I am growing to understand them more fully, but now I have the generosity of these women to aspire to as well.

Today was a wonderful counterbalance to several comments (directed at my intentions rather than my mission) that I received earlier this week. I was talking about my upcoming journey during lunch with several fellow teachers when one asked, seemingly offhandedly, "doesn’t my plan seem hypocritical since it involves praying to a God I do not believe in?" I replied that I do believe in God, and while I was raised Roman Catholic, I believe that the God I grew up believing in is the same God (Allah) that I will be praying to during the month of Ramadan. I was disappointed that a colleague, who also teaches Social Studies (including classes that involved instruction on world religions), would presume to know my religious feelings and/or that I would consider dishonoring a religion by taking it so lightly or treating the faith in such a manner. Then the following morning I had to attend a meeting with the administrative staff at our school for an entirely unrelated reason, and the Principal (who I had talked with just the day before) asked that I explain to the rest of the assembled group what I would soon be undertaking. I did briefly, and one of the people present asked if my actions would be offensive to anyone in the building , because he felt that my plan might, in fact, be offensive. I explained that I was very concerned about that possibility, which is why I had already consulted with teachers and students who are Muslim to be assured that I would do no such harm by my actions. I understand where the concern came from, but I was honestly hurt. I feel that I am trying very hard to understand better, and that because of the respect I feel, I would surely have addressed that issue previously.

2006-09-18T16:34:00.000-04:00

I teach Social Studies in the Washington D.C. metropolitan area at a very diverse high school. In an attempt to better understand a significant portion of the student population, I have undertaken the idea to become "Muslim for a Month" (the month of Ramadan to be exact); hence the title for this blog.

I cannot really say how this idea first came to me, but as soon as it popped into my head I could not shake it loose until I acted upon it. I spent much of that first evening pondering how best to go about my personal social and spiritual experiment without offending anyone, or seeming to trivialize an entire faith and culture. In this vein, I queried numerous people about this notion before deciding to give it a go. I spoke with a close friend, then several teachers at my school who are Muslim women to get their take on the subject, spoke with students in our Muslim Student Association to gauge their reaction, and then to our Principal. All I have gotten is positive feedback. At the suggestion of one of my fellow teachers who converted to Islam as an adult, I am chronicling my experiences during this upcoming month of Ramadan through this blog.

I intend to follow all the tenets of Islam as I proceed through this coming month. Come Saturday, I will don a scarf to cover my head and neck, begin my prayers, fasting, and other lifestyle changes that accompany my commitment.

Luckily, I have a student in one of my classes who is president of the Muslim Student Association (MSA); she has kindly offered to be my guide during this time. She has promised to get two scarves (of different styles) for me, as well as teach me how to properly wear them. Additionally, other students who are members of the MSA have stopped by my classroom to drop off literature that instructs me on how prayers are to be said, and that have given me additional insight into the beliefs that are at the heart of the Muslim faith.

Like any new adventure, I sometimes worry that I may have bitten off more than I can reasonably chew – no pun intended, but my biggest concern is the fasting. I am a snacker, and the prospect of not eating from sun up to sun down is daunting. But I am so excited about this experience upon which I am about to embark that I usually end up thinking that I cannot wait for my 31 days to begin.

I have so much to learn about the world’s fastest growing and second largest religion, and I only hope that I can do it justice during the next month. I know that this experience will forever change my view of the world, and make me a better teacher and person for it.