A Non-Muslim Woman Experiments with Hijab
By Kathy Chin
I walked down the street in my long white dress and
inch-long, black hair one afternoon, and truck drivers whistled
and shouted obscenities at me. I felt defeated. I had just
stepped out of a hair salon. I had cut my hair short, telling
the hairdresser to trim it as she would a guy's. I sat numbly
as my hairdresser skilfully sheared into my shoulder-length
hair with her scissors, asking me with every inch she cut off
if I was freaking out yet. I wasn't freaking out, but I felt
self-mutilated.
I WAS OBLITERATING MY FEMININITY
It wasn't just another haircut. It meant so much more. I was
trying to appear androgynous by cutting my hair. I wanted to
obliterate by femininity. Yet that did not prevent some men
from treating me as a sex object. I was mistaken. It was not my
femininity that was problematic, but my sexuality, or rather
the sexuality that some men had ascribed to me based on my
biological sex. They reacted to me as they saw me and not as I
truly am. Why should it even matter how they see me, as long as
I know who I am? But it does. I believe that men who see women
as only sexual beings often commit violence against them, such
as rape and battery. Sexual abuse and assault are not only my
fears, but also my reality. I was molested and raped. My
experiences with men who violated me have made me angry and
frustrated. How do I stop the violence? How do I prevent men
from seeing me as an object rather than a female? How do I stop
them from equating the two? How do I proceed with life after
experiencing what others only dread? The experiences have left
me with questions about my identity. Am I just another
Chinese-American female? I used to think that I have to arrive
at a conclusion about who I am, but now I realize that my
identity is constantly evolving.
MY EXPERIENCE OF BEING "HIJABED"
One experience that was particularly educational was when I
"dressed up" as a Muslim woman for a drive along Crenshaw
Boulevard with three Muslim men as part of a newsmagazine
project. I wore a white, long-sleeved cotton shirt, jeans,
tennis shoes, and a flowery silk scarf that covered my head,
which I borrowed from a Muslim woman. Not only did I look the
part, I believed I felt the part. Of course, I wouldn't really
know what it feels like to be Hijabed - I coined this word for
the lack of a better term everyday, because I was not raised
with Islamic teachings. However, people perceived me as a
Muslim woman and did not treat me as a sexual being by making
cruel remarks. I noticed that men's eyes did not glide over my
body as has happened when I wasn't Hijabed. I was fully
clothed, exposing only my face. I remembered walking into an
Islamic centre and an African-American gentleman inside
addressed me as "sister," and asked where I came from. I told
him I was originally from China. That didn't seem to matter.
There was a sense of closeness between us because he assumed I
was Muslim. I didn't know how to break the news to him because
I wasn't sure if I was or not. I walked into the store that
sold African jewellery and furniture and another gentleman
asked me as I was walking out if I was Muslim. I looked at him
and smiled, not knowing how to respond. I chose not to answer.
BEING HIJABED CHANGED OTHERS' PERCEPTION OF ME
Outside the store, I asked one of the Muslim men I was with,
"Am I Muslim?" He explained that everything that breathes and
submits is (i.e. takes the decleration of faith upon knowledge,
with sincerity and true belief in it - Zakariya's [Andrew's
note]). I have concluded that I may be and just don't know it.
I haven't labelled myself as such yet. I don't know enough
about Islam to assert that I am Muslim. Though I don't pray
five times a day, go to a mosque, fast, nor cover my head with
a scarf daily, this does not mean that I am not Muslim. These
seem to be the natural manifestations of what is within. How I
am inside does not directly change whether I am Hijabed or not.
It is others' perception of me that was changed. Repeated
experiences with others in turn create a self-image.
HIJAB AS OPPRESSION: A SUPERFICIAL AND MISGUIDED VIEW
I consciously chose to be Hijabed because I was searching
for respect from men. Initially, as both Women’s Studies major
and thinking female, I bought into the Western view that the
wearing of a scarf is oppressive. After this experience and
much reflection, I have arrived at the conclusion that such a
view is superficial and misguided: It is not if the act is
motivated by conviction and understanding.
THE MOST LIBERATING EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFE
I covered up that day out of choice, and it was the most
liberating experience of my life. I now see alternatives to
being a woman. I discovered that the way I dress dictated
others' reaction towards me. It saddens me that this is a
reality. It is a reality that I have accepted, and chose to
conquer rather than be conquered by it. It was my sexuality
that I covered, not my femininity. The covering of the former
allowed the liberation of the latter.
This article was originally published in Al-Talib, the
newsmagazine of the Muslim Students' Association of the
University of California in Los Angeles (UCLA) in October 1994.
At the time of its publication, Kathy Chin was a senior at UCLA
majoring in Psychobiology and Women's Studies.