adventures in cultural empathy
Nov. 18th, 2011 06:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fidesquaerensOn the bus ride back from the subway, I was sitting next to a high school girl, Zari. (We talked a bit when I complemented her on her head-dress.) She was wearing the most beautiful hijab. Most of it was a teal green wool half-hood, but with tassels and silver-brocade clips, and her forehead was covered with a satiny brown counterpane with silvery embroidery. Her face was completely shown, and the rest of her clothes weren't unlike what you'd see on a Western high school girl: scarf to match the hijab, bomber jacket, long sweater over the hips, jeans, and thigh-high boots.
But what struck me was how well she worked the outfit, and how the hijab was a part of it. She was actually quite beautiful - I say that objectively, of course - and the hiddenness of the hijab gave her a sort of mystique. But she was not hiding, nor was she "frumpy" buried under layers and layers of clothes. I tend to respect women's rights to choose the hijab because I am all about freedom of expression and of religion, but usually it always strikes me as a symbol of repression. Partly because it is only worn on going out (which always suggested a kind of ownership to me), and partly because the male equivalent isn't nearly as conspicuous or restrictive. But Zari wore the garment with pride and confidence and her smile was only enhanced by the modesty.
So I think I will remember her the next time this topic comes up. I know women wear the garment for a variety of reasons, and some of those reasons are family/state coercion. But I think this was an important part of the experience that I personally was missing before today.
Off to bed now. I couldn't sleep last night, and counseling was particularly haggard, so I'm turning in early.
But what struck me was how well she worked the outfit, and how the hijab was a part of it. She was actually quite beautiful - I say that objectively, of course - and the hiddenness of the hijab gave her a sort of mystique. But she was not hiding, nor was she "frumpy" buried under layers and layers of clothes. I tend to respect women's rights to choose the hijab because I am all about freedom of expression and of religion, but usually it always strikes me as a symbol of repression. Partly because it is only worn on going out (which always suggested a kind of ownership to me), and partly because the male equivalent isn't nearly as conspicuous or restrictive. But Zari wore the garment with pride and confidence and her smile was only enhanced by the modesty.
So I think I will remember her the next time this topic comes up. I know women wear the garment for a variety of reasons, and some of those reasons are family/state coercion. But I think this was an important part of the experience that I personally was missing before today.
Off to bed now. I couldn't sleep last night, and counseling was particularly haggard, so I'm turning in early.
