Something In Between

I don't want my blog to die, but all I want to do is whine. I mean, I expect an explosion in the future - the very near future in fact - so you can all hear me whine then. But until then, to pass the time, I thought I'd post that speech I did last year, for the Youth of the Year thingamabob. Some stuff is censored, for Security Purposes *dun dun dunnnn*.

(Also note, the speech was cut down and edited a lot, partially to fit the timing, and partially to avoid 'religious dogma' *echhem* The guy behind it that it would be safer to tie the topic back to multiculturalism... so I did.) 

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My name is [Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore Laila N Mysis], and I’m a student from [Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry some high school]. To be honest, I was a little freaked out when I found out I had to make a speech, and I had no idea what to say. After much pondering – and more freaking out – I realise I do have one interesting thing that has always given me pride to speak about, and that’s this thing on my head – this headscarf.

I started wearing it in grade four. Some adults get a bit starry eyed when they hear this, but the truth is, I made the move out of jealousy. My sister, in grade six at the time, was told by parents to put it on, and when she did, I was to endure much praise showered on her by my own teacher. In a time when it was cool to be the teacher’s pet, I thought that it was high time my sister get kicked out of the spotlight, so a few days after, I announced to my family that I too was going to wear the hijab, and that was that.

This may sound a little cute, but you can see that it has very little meaning. I had no idea why I was wearing it, I just knew it was something that we did, and it never really bothered me. I was asked a few times by others, and I said that we’re just supposed to hide our hair from boys, but you know, that’s not really an answer.

In year 7, my mother insisted I go to Islamic studies classes. I wasn’t really that interested, but I went along anyway, and I’m glad I did. My teacher gave me the best explanation, and that is what I’m about to share with you.

There was a time in Saudi Arabia where society was solely based on tribal law and male egotism. Women were objects, property much like camels, and survival was based on how much men you could attract, and how fertile you were. If you checked both those boxes, the tribal leader could tell all the tough blokes to sleep with you, because theoretically, that would mean you’d provide more tough guys for the tribe. The sons, therefore, wouldn’t be yours to raise, but the tribe’s. If you had a daughter, more often than not, she would be buried alive. Awful, right?

Then Islam was introduced to the world, and skipping some details, the verse for women to cover up was revealed. People assume many things about this, that we put the onus on women, that we try to hide them, but this is not the case. In fact, hiding them is a pretty ridiculous notion, if you imagine a fully covered female strolling down an Aussie beach on a hot summer’s day. Modesty is only a part of it.

The fact is, the hijab meant more than that. It was liberation. Putting it on meant they were no longer burdened by the awful conventions of the time. It meant they had rights. Rights to be protected and respected, educated and married, financially, physically and emotionally provided for. They had the right to own property, and the right to raise our own kids. Baby girls would no longer be buried alive. In the words of Dr Muhammad Ansari: Islam has raised the status of women from below the Earth to so high that Paradise lies at her feet.

This is exactly what the headscarf means to me - that we women no longer belong to man, but to something much higher. We are not hiding from society – we’re shouting it out, loud and proud.

Grand story, if I may say so myself. That being said, in today’s world, the hijab seems to have lost that meaning, having been used and abused, exploited as a tool of oppression, rather than a symbol of freedom. France has even taken the step to ban it, as I’m sure you would have heard. It seems to me that they think that eliminating this ‘thing’ that stands out is the best way to create a peaceful society.

I think they’re wrong, and I think that [Oompa Loompa Land where we live] is a case in point. I’m proud to be a part of this community. I’m proud to be in a class that holds a dozen or so members of different ethnicities and religions. I’m proud to walk through town, to see different coloured faces, differently dressed people, walking side by side as seamlessly as a river flows. I’m proud to see mosques, churches and temples standing strong in complete serenity. I’m proud to know that a Lions’ Club barbeque will provide halal meat, that the [local] Library provides books in multiple languages, that there’s a whole street dedicated to Little India and the Afghan Bazaar, that on Christmas there’s always a special Carols by Candlelight event, and every year, on the 26^th of January, peoples’ whose origins extend to places from so far away can still all gather together at the same park and celebrate the existence of this beautiful country.

I’m proud to know that I don’t really feel excluded here – I never have, even, so long ago, being the only one in my primary school besides my sister wearing a headscarf. That teacher that I wanted to impress, who first encouraged me to wear it? Your average, run of the mill primary school teacher – not even a Muslim. People have approached me with curiosity, but never with hate. I’ve heard of people who have been racially harassed somewhere sometime, but I myself have not experienced this. 

Some say that in order to live in harmony, we have to put aside our differences. This community has shown that that isn’t necessary – we can keep our differences, showcase them even, it’s just about acceptance and understanding. Rather than trying to bury multiculturalism, or eliminate it as the problem, [where we live] celebrates it, embraces it, and respects it.

As Maya Angelou, a prominent figure in the American Civil Rights Movement, once said: “We all should know that diversity makes for a rich tapestry, and we must understand that all the threads of the tapestry are equal in value no matter what their colour.”

Thank you for listening, and I hope you have a wonderful evening.

Hm. I've been thinking of some positive thoughts, and I came up with this:
1. I've pretty much aced all my SACs so far this year.
2. I have the cutest cat in the world.
3. I got to say 'I told you so' to someone today.
4. I'm reading Quintana of Charyn, which is superdy awesome.
5. I ate two chocolatey things today. 

Peace in,
Laila