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on 17-10-2002 15:12
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By Lea J. Clark
Way down here in Macon, GA, USA, it isn’t unusual to hear voices raised in songs of praise any night of the week, on any of a hundred street corners. On any given evening, one can, if one chooses to do so, attend one of the many engineered “revivals.” No one complains of the noise and many join their voices.
Nor is it unusual to drive down Houston Avenue any time of the day or night and see the prostitutes, unchecked by local authorities, plying their wares. Hardly a second glance is given.
It is amusing, however, to observe the reactions of the local non-Muslim population when they encounter a real-live Hijabi (albeit a new revert) in the streets (literally, in the car driving down the street), at the grocery store, walking around the farmer’s market, or any number of routine daily tasks that are seldom even noticed. From the ‘oh’ that forms on the lips of little old ladies out for an afternoon spin to heads out of windows and cars running over curbs (they really can’t believe what they just saw) to hateful glares and silent inattention from clerks at the local department stores and being asked for my ID at my bank of five years (when they hadn’t asked for it for the past three), I have experienced it all.
I have also been the recipient of countless flyers touting the latest assembly going on at the neighborhood church (poor thing needs Jesus - peace be upon him - in her life), the target of the leadership at the local Kingdom Hall (they just can’t believe an intelligent person like me could possibly believe all that propaganda), and the receiver of untold numbers of sympathetic glances (I must be, oh, so oppressed). I am steadily becoming more comfortable in my Hijab and those places I frequent are beginning to get used the sight of me, but there is much room for growth and improvement here in my town.
Just yesterday, I spent a few hours running a number of errands that I’d been putting off for a couple of weeks and could put off no more. In performing those tasks I hope, InshaAllah, some eyes were opened and some minds were changed about women in Islam. If it is only that a few eyes no longer see all Islamic women as uneducated, oppressed, and overburdened humans who should be pitied, then Allah (Suhana Wa Ta’ala) will have been righteously served.
A trip to the Department of Transportation to renew my driver’s license turned out to be an educational experience for the clerk on duty there. Thankfully, it was a slow day. There was only one person in line ahead of me, so I didn’t have wait for hours.
My turn at the service counter and my ability to articulate my request was the first thing that brought a look of amazement to the clerk’s whole face. I’m quite sure she thought I was a “foreigner.” The next thing we had to deal with was my name change (a legal divorce from a non-Muslim requires a new ID and the whole nine yards, a real pain in the neck, but it has to be done). She let me know that it required a certified copy of the decree. When I handed her the paperwork, she couldn’t find the statement about the name change and I politely pointed it out to her. Another bridge crossed. “I’ll need to see your current driver’s license,” she said. I produced it without further hesitation.
Then, her eyes got big and she came out from behind the counter to take a better look. “Oh, my, I don’t think we can take your picture with that thing on your head,” she said. I just smiled and told her I thought it would be okay. Her supervisor, who had been observing from another part of the small office, came to my rescue. “Yes, we can,” he said, “it’s her religion.” Then, he turned to me and said, “It is your religion, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I said, “I’m Muslim.”
Ten minutes later I walked out the door with my new license in hand, a picture on it of me in my Hijab, and headed to the credit union to transfer my checking account from a major bank.
Hmmm…I wondered, will the rep ever decided to quit chatting with the security guard and call me into her office? I sat quietly reading through brochures for more than twenty minutes before she called me, while she looked at me covertly and made nice quiet conversation.
To her utter shock and disbelief, she found that I already had a savings account. Her questioning: Are you a U.S. Citizen? Have you lived in Georgia more than five years? Is this your current address? all answered to her utter satisfaction. “I’m going to have the run a credit check,” she said. I politely answered, “Okay.” Five minutes on the phone while she ran my social security number, driver’s license number, and every other number she could find returned surprising results. I was eligible to open a checking account.
We went through the normal routine of setting up the check card, picking out checks, and printing out counter checks while I wait for the real ones. She began to show a genuine interest when I asked her about setting up deposit account for my business taxes.
By the time I left I felt (MarshaAllah) at least two sets of eyes had been to the media’s misrepresentation of oppressed, ignorant Islamic women, just by being me. I returned home in time to make Salaat, with my spirit in utter peace, and with a fullness of pleasure in my obedience to Allah.
Last update : 17-10-2002 15:12
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