Rereading The Odyssey

I first read The Odyssey during freshman year of high school. I had started learning and speaking English only three years prior, I had no historical context for The Odyssey as far as my knowledge of Greek mythology went, and thus I neither understood nor appreciated the story or its literary merit much. In fact, it frustrated me that I didn't understand it, or the hype around it. I hated it. I gave it a 1/5 star rating on my prized Goodreads account. I never wanted to read it again, and I was glad I was over with it. 

The second time I read The Odyssey was this year. My first year in college, exactly four years after my first encounter. I read The Odyssey this time for a humanities class in which we were focusing on travel literature. At this point in my life, I have had eight years of English under my belt, and a better grasp on the mythology. This didn't mean that when I saw the reading list, I didn't groan for a solid minute. I did. (Maybe not a whole minute, but you get the point.) I wasn't looking forward to rereading The Odyssey and I was further disheartened by the fact that we would spend a good two weeks of discussion on it.

But – it was good. It was great actually. The thematic approach helped, we had a certain framework for analyzing the text. The close and active reading uncovered the reason why The Odyssey is a fundamental part of the Western canon. Here was an extremely old text that dealt with a range of ideas and societal norms, from divine-mortal relations to hospitality and prophecy. In fact, the second time around earned it a place on my favorites shelf.

Also, I'll swallow my pride and admit that this time it was much less sacrilegious. In the sense that while I didn't approve of many things that happened within the story, I wasn't at a point in my life where I let that color my entire view of the work. I was exposed to new ideologies, lifestyles, mentalities and had made my peace with the differences in our moral standards and guidelines. I was mature enough to acknowledge the complexity and the moral ambiguity in the story in a way that lent itself to discussion, and didn't dismiss it immediately as something I couldn't think or talk about (e.g. infidelity, limited free will, a fallible conception of the divine, etc.).

But this isn't only about The Odyssey. It's true – I learned that upon rereading a text, I can gain a better appreciation of the literary significance of some works I might not have gotten previously, but I also understood that most things in life work this way. I can't and shouldn't let first impressions dictate all my subsequent behaviors and feelings. Especially with ideas and people.

It's impossibly unfair to judge people by one interaction and I am guilty of doing this. And it's a hard habit to get rid of but I am working towards it. I want to internalize the idea of assuming best intentions and be as open-minded as I can be without compromising my own values. And I think I can be that person, but I need to work on it.

Similarly, being open to ideas, and trying to understand the reasoning behind beliefs and thoughts I don't like, agree with, or ascribe to is essential for growth. And it's easy for me to forget the constructive side of that. Not to mention that listening is most usually preferable to shutting things out, and it makes it easier to change and adopt new ideas later on (because it's easier to overcome the ego and stubbornness that once existed). 

Lots of snowflakes,

Belle

What About the Muslim Children?

(Also published here.)

Two weeks ago, our university’s Muslim chaplain reached out to me and asked if I would be interested in a talking to a small group of Muslim parents about what Muslim college students thought about the recent Paris attacks. College students because we have all grown up in the almost immediate aftermath of 9/11.

We were five students in total and among us we were two undergraduates and three graduates, three boys and two girls. We all come from very different backgrounds and thus could offer different perspectives on the questions the parents asked us. Questions like what kind of language should we use when we talk about these kind of events to our children? Should we tell them that those people aren’t actual Muslims? How early should we expose our children to these news? How do we approach the whole process of “condemning violence” as Muslims? How do we ensure our children are safe and have the means and confidence in their schools to deal with what might come at them?

And I want to address not only how we, as Muslim college students answered these questions, but also the general necessity of this meeting and the fact that it happened. Because this is something we don’t usually talk about. We don’t talk about how the children raised in our communities feel and are treated because of these violent attacks and the ensuing Islamophobia. We don’t talk about how it affects the environment our children grow up in when even our parents aren’t sure about how to respond to these kind of events. When we have religious extremists killing in the name of Islam and constant anti-Islam propaganda, we look at how Muslim adults react. We don’t look at six and seven year olds who don’t even know the branches of the government. We don’t look at fifth graders who are left unaware of the thousands of civilians dead at the hands of the US military.

The broader frame of what we told these parents was that, yes they do need to talk to their children about this, and no they do not have to be sorry or ashamed of anything, they need to keep their dignity and stand their ground, and they need to trust their children in learning about and understanding complexities and nuances within these things.

Within this broader frame, we talked about how these attacks in the name of Islam are not simple. They are not done with a single goal and born out of a single motive. They are layered and complicated and multidimensional. They are not simply religious, they are political and ideological and based on dogma and prejudice and hatred. And this is something we need to address. We need to address how no matter how un-Islamic their actions may be, these terrorists still identify themselves as Muslims. And we can’t just say “No! Islam means peace! They aren’t real Muslims!” Not only is this trite and patronizing, it’s also confusing for children. Implying that all Muslims are somehow all great and faultless just sets our children up for disappointment. What do we expect will happen if they grow up with the notion that all Muslims are angels and then face the reality that Muslims are also people? And just like all people and all groups, they have good ones and they have bad ones. They have honor students and they have bullies. They have trustworthy businessman and corrupt politicians. At the end of the day, they still identify as Muslim, and they are a part of this 1.7 billion-people community, but they aren’t a monolith. They aren’t homogenous. They are different and diverse and yeah, some of them are bad, and some of them (most of them) are good (or try to be).

We talked about how some children don’t have the luxury of being shielded from these truths. Some children live under the shadow of ISIS and some children are born refugees. We talked about how when we hide these realities from our children, it can feed their ignorance later in life.

We talked about how to keep our dignity and pride with our children. How to not underestimate our children because they are really perceptive and they pick up a lot. They see and observe and they understand things that we don’t explicitly talk about. We discussed how children emulate their parents and thus how parents respond and react is especially important in keeping children confident in their identities and secure in their communities.

We talked about how we need to make sure children know that violence isn’t a Muslim problem. It’s a human problem. It’s in every community and it’s born out of oppression and lack of education. And it can be fixed but we need to work for it.

We talked about the difference between religion and politics and what it means in the context of all these violent crimes. We talked about how we have to be careful with the language we use when we refer to these terrorists. We need to instill the understanding that sometimes people do horrible things thinking that they are doing the right thing. And that good behavior is recognizable as is bad behavior. And the real distinction between people doesn’t come from race or religion – it comes from whether they are good people or bad people.

Especially within the Muslim household, we talked about how parents should enforce the way that God wants us to react to these kind of situations. With patience and dignity and consistency. With level-headedness and logic. How we shouldn’t victimize ourselves and be miserable. How we need to keep our heads up and condemn all types of violence and injustice by principle. How we need to be less reactionary and more regular in what we stand up for and what we stand against.

Muslims have been dealing with ostracization and marginalization since Islam came to be a religion. It’s not new that we are being targeted and harmed and being called names. But now people have means to do it globally. People are connected and millions of resources are at the tips of their fingers. People can trend #KillAllMuslims for an entire day, people can organize islamophobic events across the country, people can terrorize mosques and Muslim community centers with little to no planning. People can develop intricate agendas within governments to oppress Muslim communities. And it’s time to talk about how we can help our children process these. How we give them stable and strong foundations to fall back on when they are faced with bigotry and prejudice in their schools and among their peers. Born and raised post 9/11 kids. Here they come.

Lots of shields,
Belle

Muslim Disprivilege

Long time no see my dear blog, I have missed the formality you brought, and so I am back. I was never away yes, but I was not as present as I promised I would be and I have truly missed you.

This is another one of those blogposts that I had originally intended to be a vlog but I have only six more days until I travel up to Chicago and start the new chapter of my life that is college, and we both know videos take longer to create than pieces of prose. So here we are.

I first scribbled the idea for this post, at two in the morning a few weeks ago, as "Write about: white privilege is having nuanced stories." However, once I sat down to actually write about it, I realized that two in the morning me was not in a condition to speak about nuance when she narrowed down such a complex topic to something as structured and systematic as white privilege. So this is not a post about white privilege. It was never meant to be. This is a post about Muslim disprivilege.

Let's start with nuance. Muslim disprivilege in its root is not having nuanced stories whether they be individual or collective. We are neither allowed to nor can afford to have complex and multi-layered narratives. Muslims in the post 9/11 world exist as an ambiguous and ominous block of beings that have a flat image in society's eye. Muslims are in the media all the time, but always in the same roles and the same stories. Outside of a violent and dangerous image, we practically don't exist and are only there to incite fear and exude signs of being a threat.

There are certain perceptions about what Muslims are in society's mind and thus anything that goes against what people expect is on the one hand always expected, but on the other hand is surprising and has the potential to set all 1.7 billion Muslims back.

Despite the huge "block of beings" image we have, all Muslims are individuals with individual stories and backgrounds, who live all over the world. Especially in places where Muslims are in the minority, but are integrated into bigger communities, the untold but ever present expectation is that they don't fit the image people have in their minds of Muslims. When the media presents all Muslims as potential terrorists, obviously the expectation from someone whose neighbor is a Muslim would be that fingers crossed my neighbor is not one of those Muslims. So, the constant expectation is to be perfect and flawless and show no signs of anything negative to confirm people's fears about you. Be a good student, belong to a progressive family, and participate in things like community volunteering and gardening to look as harmless as possible.

But see, that's the thing. The pressure is that we have to prove everyone wrong and every Muslim individually has to uphold that standard. We aren't allowed to be human and make mistakes. Muslim disprivilege is to be stripped away from the second chances all other people get when they have issues. Not only do we have to be devoid of all problems humans could possibly have, we also have to make sure that other Muslims are living up to these expectations and disproving people's prejudices about us. This creates so many problems because now we have Muslims who are struggling with their personal image, their collective image, and the responsibility they are made to think they have on behalf of all other Muslims. I am not responsible for only myself, but for all the other 1,699,999,999 Muslims on the planet. Both for their mistakes and their image. My actions reflect them as do theirs mine, and occasionally we are expected to apologize for each other. As a result of our inner community policing, we also further problems that we already have in our local groups.

Muslim disprivilege is having everything I do being associated with my religion. While for myself, religion is a way of life, and it does factor into many decisions I make, I am not programmed into doing this. I choose to do it consciously. The assumption that it must be my religion endorses this notion that I blindly follow my religion and have no free will. For example, during my last months of high school, the majority of senior class was getting ready for prom. One of my teachers asked if I were going to go and I replied that I wasn't. The teacher's immediate reaction was to look at me with mock understanding and pity and ask me if it was because of my religion. And I replied that no, it wasn't because of my religion. While there are things in my religion that would suggest me to not attend an event like prom, the choice to take these into consideration is mine. There are Muslims who go to prom, and there are Muslims who don't. Now, while I am not averse to the prom scene itself, I felt more comfortable with a smaller party and thus attended a dance that one of our local community centers threw for us. Of course, the complications never end. There is the assumption that we create these kind of events to prove ourselves and subtly scream "Muslims can have fun too!!! You see???" The funny thing is that I have witnessed a similar teacher-student interaction where a non-Muslim student replied in the negative about going to prom and the teacher tried to convince the student and explain how fun prom was and how it was a once in a lifetime event and that students shouldn't miss out on it.   

Muslim disprivilege is always being extra careful with what I do and what I say and thinking ten steps ahead all the time. In a way, where God would show me mercy and forgive my personal mistakes, society decides to strike me with its wrath and alienate me. For example, I make sure to never make any jokes that can be considered threats even in the lightest sense. "I would kill for a cold glass of lemonade right now." You won't hear that out of my mouth. And the inner policing? Also a part of my life. Making sure my family doesn't make similar jokes or indicate any sign of negativity or dysfunction. My brother isn't allowed to have toy guns or play any violent games because we don't want these themes in his life. Now – this is layered. We don't want these themes in his life anyway, but we have to be extra careful about it because he's bound to be shamed about his toy guns not only because people disapprove of toy guns, but also because he is a Muslim kid and thus genetically prone to terrorism (duh). This is also the reason that it disturbs me when people who are not Muslim and who are so removed from the general experiences of Muslim people try to emulate Muslim people for their online pranks or try to create Muslim people in their shows and in their novels. This is the reason every time someone comes out with a social experiment (!!!) and makes a bunch of non-Muslim girls wear hijab and go out so they can compare their experiences to when they aren't wearing hijab, I get extremely annoyed. Not only are these people posing as something they are not, but every little action they take while they are in their little hijab getups adds to the pool of things that can be generalized for all Muslims. Oh and the fact that they ignore to actually ask real Muslim women about their experiences is the cherry on top. Why take the easy way out and interview hijabis to amplify their voice in the media when you can hire actors and arrange friends to act like they are Muslim so you can conduct a pseudo-experiment?

Talking about Muslim voice and representation in the media, where is it? When in the beginning I said we can't afford nuances, this is what I mean. We aren't in a state where whatever representation we get is representation and thus ultimately positive. Our position and image is already precarious, we really aren't looking for stale and poorly constructed Muslim characters and storylines in media. I run a tumblr blog where I get questions along the lines of "Can you tell me a little about Muslim culture? I  want to have a POC character in the novel I am writing. Thanks!" And this is not for me only. My Muslim blogger friends also receive these kind of questions and honestly these messages are pathetic and sad and uninformed.

You want to learn about "Muslim culture?" How about you first learn what a Muslim is? And then move on the distinction between culture and religion? And then maybe the generalization that you made about how all Muslims are POC (which is an even more layered topic for later discussion)? Oh and don't forget to learn more about doing research and using the vast resources that are readily available to you through the internet when writing a novel. Thank you.

There are people out there who think a few paragraphs from a random Muslim blogger they see on the Internet will teach them enough about "Muslim culture" so they can go on to create a novel with a Muslim character, pass off in some diversity litmus test, and then smile at the representation starved minorities while mouthing "you're welcome."

We aren't at a place where we can discuss issues in our communities with the outside world without backlash and judgement and multiplied bigotry. Obviously, we are trying to address them within ourselves, but if we tried to give depth to our own general Muslim narrative in the outside world, it would be perceived as if a disease caught a disease and now it's double the trouble, double the danger. And again, without doubt, some problems can be solved simultaneously, like preventing rape through changing society's mental attitude towards women, all the while being careful and attentive with rape cases and victims and offering them resources for healing and therapy. But this is Muslim disprivilege and that means we can't get that kind of complexity when we need to solve our problems.

We need to first humanize Muslims and integrate them into the society that is presented in the media. We need them out of the terrorist and oppressed molds and counter the decades long image with good Muslims. Good and trustworthy and loyal and hard-working. Practicing their faith, going about their daily, harmless lives, and not planning to bomb major American cities. And after we have a solid foundation that presents Muslims as mainly good people (7% vs. 93%), we can add more layers to the Muslim image in the world's eye. For example, Muslims have problematic families too. Muslims have issues with cultural patriarchy and racism too. Muslims can be lazy and drink alcohol and not be extremely pious too. Because Muslims are 1.7 billion people and they are all bound to be different and individualistic. Muslims are a part of the human species, and as humans are, not infallible. Whoa. Shocking concept I know.

So that's Muslim disprivilege. Overcompensating is a basic part of your life and you are always trying to make sure your intentions are well aligned and you aren't just putting up a nice and wholesome facade when you are in fact a hollow and purposeless shell. Fun lifestyle, don't you think?

Lots of ponderings,
Belle