Hijab harassment
By Sara Zahedi, Young People's Press

"Take those clothes off, you don't have to wear that. You're in Canada now," shouted the elderly lady on the bus. She waved her arms around, partly to get my attention and partly to express her anger.

Normally I would have replied with something witty, but being in a state of shock, all I could come up with was, "I know where I am."

"Then take them off. You make me feel hot!"

"I'm wearing this by choice," I replied.

"No you're not. You're being controlled. You're being controlled by males!"

Her striking words about my hijab (Islamic head-dress) caught me off-guard. I felt certain that this woman was not just repeating an old stereotype. This was what she really believed!

"You people come to this country and you can't speak a word of English or French, you don't know our history..."

I stumbled over the words as I replied hurriedly. "I speak English better than my mother tongue, and it hardly matters that I don't know your history, I have a lot of time to learn. Besides, I know the Australian, New Zealand and Iranian history and I bet you don't," I said feeling a small sense of satisfaction, even though I had missed those three years of French class.

Her accusations didn't stop there, but soon I wasn't the only one doing the defending.

Another woman on the bus was leaning out of her seat and into the aisle to better face the elderly lady. She said, "Listen, I'm Canadian and I don't want these people to think that we're all like you. We have a multicultural system, and you have to learn to appreciate that."

Other passengers on the bus began to chime in, all defending their cherished multicultural society. I began to feel more at ease, knowing that I wasn't the only one who had been hurt by the old woman's comments.

Walking home from my stop, I should have felt victorious. My accuser had not succeeded in making me feel unwelcome in my newly adopted country and many people had come to my defense.

But, instead, I felt weak.

I had never been one to fail with words, especially on this particular topic. Then again, no one had ever approached me quite so bluntly. This woman really believed my life was controlled by a man, presumably my father or brother.

The reason this incident hit me so hard was because I thought the world had moved past its misconceptions about Muslim women. Had that woman not seen me wearing my hijab, she would have seen me as an average teenager who listens to music, has a fashion sense and a busy social life. But that all became irrelevant as soon as she saw the small square of fabric I wore over my hair.

That simple piece of fabric has made me, and thousands of other Muslim women, a minority unto ourselves. I had experienced this long before the confrontation on the bus took place, and I am still seeing it today.

Sometime later, my family and I took part in a Muslim community get-together where I met two teenage girls. Both were surprised to hear that I wear my hijab everywhere, and not just to community meetings.

One of the girls admitted that she had only recently stopped wearing her hijab out in public. When I asked her why, she said, "I feel like I'm treated differently. People look at you funny, and they don't know why we wear it. Anyway, none of the other Iranian girls wear it out."

I guess her reaction is understandable - who wants to be a part of a misjudged minority?

You would think, however, that with the relatively large population of Muslims in Toronto, people would have a greater understanding of our culture. Of course, they do in comparison with the past, when the population of Muslims wasn't as great. Still, the broader exposure to Muslim culture is limited. Most Muslims remain clustered in particular areas of the city because it is in these places that they can find comfort in familiar surroundings.

It's the same story in Sydney, Australia, and no doubt in other large cities around the world. Both Sydney and Toronto are cities which tolerate their weird and wonderful newcomers. But is it enough to be tolerant?

Immigration is not a passing phase. People will continue to come from all corners of the world to make a new start and to establish a living. And though they will change many of their ways, some of what they came with will always stay with them.

Rather than tolerance, society must learn acceptance.

Though some of our beliefs are different, Muslims are just like other people. Being accepted is a big part of settling in, but we must not forget to take pride in our religions and cultures by practicing them openly.

Muslim youth need to become more active in order to make ourselves known and heard. Rather than secluding ourselves, or changing ourselves to be part of the mainstream, we need to be seen as we truly are.

I have a dream that one day, I'll see fabric-clad heads reading the evening news or heading our municipal government.

That'll be the day!

Sara Zahedi is 17 years old.

Source: www.equalitytoday.org