Mothering & Resistance

Bismillah.

My youngest turned two last weekend, alhamdulillah. I remember when my eldest turned seven last year, and we’re told that there are some critical years in a person’s life. Like their first three years, and how safe and loved they were made to feel in those years, and also the first seven years. And I recall watching her from a distance with gratitude filling my heart, that she was completing her seven years as a wholesome child. I find myself feeling thankful once again that my youngest is now two and is already forming full sentences, understands three languages, has opinions of her own, and is just the blossom of our family.

Reflecting on all these blessings made me want to share a few things:

~ Motherhood will be one of the most triggering experiences. It will bring out your most vulnerable states, the ugly truths, day in and day out. Unlike other testing relationships, it won’t be as easy not to face those truths, to simply cut off the relationship and run away. We cannot simply leave our children. Either, we end up hurting our children, intentionally or not, or we decide to face those truths and take it as an opportunity to transform ourselves for the sake of our own good as well as that of our children. Whether we accept it or not, we are role models for our children, and we can’t simply hope that our children will have good role models without first implementing those desirable attributes in our own lives. The aim is not to reach perfection. We are human, we err and we have to recognize and reconcile with that. What we need to do though is be conscious in our actions. Are we trying our best to live up to what we want our children to learn and implement? Or are we going to just wait for their school or someone else to take care of that?

~ The level of violence and violations we have been witnessing on our mobile phones should not prevent us from fulfilling our responsibilities towards our children. Our commitment to raising them to be as healthy as possible in mind, body and soul is an act of resistance in itself. If we believe that we are part of one nation, the ummah, we are in this together and this is a collective struggle. Of course we must still extend our support to brothers & sisters in Gaza and elsewhere, whether it’s in terms of financial support, sharing their messages, speaking out against oppressors and simply making du’a. We need to not forget for a moment that we are a part of the same body. But we must not lose sight of our duties, for the sake of the ummah. We know who benefits from us being in a dysfunctional state. Not the ummah. Our relationship with Allah, purification of the heart, maintaining silat ar-rahm (womb ties; family ties), helping those in need in our immediate vicinities, our dedication to raising empathetic, principled, disciplined, unapologetic Muslim children despite all the pushback from society, from left and right, sometimes even from our own family is our resistance to this oppression (a little side tangent: the word for oppression in Arabic is dhulm ظلم and the Arabic word for darkness shares the same root as oppression — darkness doesn’t exist on its own but it is a lack of something else i.e. light, and oppression is when there is no adherence to truth and justice. The further one is away from truth, mercy and justice amongst other qualities, the closer they are to being in a state of oppression in its different levels.)

The way we raise our children and how much we work on ourselves & our relationship with our Lord is a significant part of our role in this collective liberation. This reminds me of something I often think about… most of the Prophets peace and blessings be upon them all challenged the status quo, the norms of the society they were sent to. The Qur’an informs us that there has been no messenger except that he was mocked, and they never sought out a reward in response to their call. So I don’t know if there ever will be a time where some form of resistance is not required of us. It is a lifelong struggle, and if there is no outside force, there will always be an internal force, that which lies within ourselves. Renew your intentions every day. Insert an intention for the sake of Allah even in the most mundane acts. Remind yourself of our Master Muhammad ﷺ and his concern for us.

~ This last point took me a while to put into words as I was struggling to get my point across. I still think it could have been better put, but I hope it makes sense overall.

Raising children is demanding and children themselves are demanding. So naturally, we want to meet those demands and pay attention to every detail, trying to perform at peak level, whether it relates to their eating, sleeping, getting physical activity, education. You name it. It’s endless and constant, and sometimes feels discouraging when you don’t feel like there is enough acknowledgement of your sacrifices, all that thought and time that goes into everything. And we know that children need attention, and we tie their need for attention with how we are meeting their demands. What truly nurtures them though, is individual, undivided attention, and truly being present with them, even for as little as 20-30 minutes a day. We are present with them through other daily activities, obviously. Especially homeschooling parents are with their children throughout most of the day. What I mean is conscious presence. Truly connecting with them in a present state. Locking eyes with them, hearing them out without rushing them, giving them a heartfelt hug, playing a game, wrestling with them. And most importantly, making du’a for them, inwardly as well as out loud. These are the moments that will stick with them for the rest of their lives.

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Eleven & a half years on

I saw this viral video a couple of times, a Kurdish family, the daughter is surprising her parents with deciding to wear hijab. It seems, from the few words her father uttered, that there was initially a dispute, or that the daughter struggled before finally deciding to veil. The parents are emotional, the mother is crying & praising God, and I found myself getting goosebumps and tearing up too.

This is so different from my personal experience when I decided to wear the hijab, a few months after graduating from high school. I always imagined that I would eventually veil, but I didn’t expect it to be as soon as starting university. Alhamdulillah, the last minute decision to enroll in an Islamic Sciences faculty in Istanbul where boys and girls were split and 99% of the girls were veiled made it a natural decision. I was already wearing it on my first week before classes, while strolling through the different neighborhoods, hopping on and off buses, and getting lost a couple of times.

I am sure a lot of girls who decide to wear the hijab are often told that they are not ready for it. That was precisely my experience. I struggled a lot in the first year because societal pressure was so clearly felt every time I visited Cyprus, with no encouragement from my closest ones. Come to think of it now, my parents were dealing with other things. I was not really on their radar and list of priorities, to help their eldest daughter try to fit in to a problematic society better without having to sacrifice a religious obligation she was trying to maintain. My father did once acknowledge the struggle, when I attended a relative’s wedding with him and I was the only one wearing the hijab in addition to an old Turkish teyze sitting on the other end of the ballroom. I will never forget that.

I felt so free in Istanbul, switching between two simple abayas and wrapping around my matching black scarf, not having to think twice what anyone would say or think, and then coming to Cyprus — an island where visibly practicing Muslims at least at the time could be counted on one hand — not knowing what to wear to stand out less, how to react at the sight of an old classmate and how to answer the questions of prejudiced islanders and uncultured relatives.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

My daughter is turning 8 in about two weeks. Some time ago, we were rushing out to her karate class and she decided to walk out with her instant hijab. I caught myself telling her that she should take it off. I stopped in my tracks at the realization that I was projecting the remnants of my own insecurities onto her. I quickly changed my tone and told her she could wear it to class, not allowing my own insecurities to taint her innocence and self-esteem. No one said anything to her in class, and she took it off anyway 5 minutes into their warm up, and we continued our day as normal with none of my personal trauma being passed on. I know that when she reaches the age of accountability, I will be encouraging her in her hijab journey, helping her work through any concerns related to self-esteem. I will help her style her hijab and pick out appropriate yet appealing outfits.* How could I discourage a command from Allah, a sunnah of the daughters and wives of our Prophet, if we believe it to be as such?

I think there is this underlying assumption especially when it comes to the hijab, that there are things we have to do before we wear the hijab. My spiritual journey did not conclude on the day I decided to veil for good. I did not all of a sudden become the best version of me. Likewise, when we pray our fardh prayers, we are not on cloud nine every single time. We have to be actively mindful, at every prayer time, that we are standing and prostrating to the Most High, renewing our covenant with Him. It is a struggle. Even though I don’t struggle with self-image nearly as much as when I first decided to veil 11 & a half years ago, I still have to proactively avoid getting influenced by social media (including what are called hijabi influencers), the desire to ‘make a statement’, and regularly renew my intentions as to why I am observing hijab. In addition, I have to be mindful that I am a representative and my actions need to be in line with what I am aiming to represent.

Similarly to Salaah, it is fair to say that, when done with the right intentions and mindfulness, covering our ‘awrah and observing the hijab will protect us from prohibited acts. It will not happen overnight, but it will be helpful, especially if we are not discouraged because we aren’t yet saints doing everything else we should be doing or 60 years old. Hijab is not the cherry on top.

One piece of advice that I think personally has helped me in my journey is that when I am feeling creative, surrounding myself with righteous people, doing acts of service, reading frequently and doing other things that I love doing, I feel less concerned about what my looks will mean to the outside world. Because I feel mentally and spiritually empowered, I don’t seek empowerment by other means that would interfere in proper hijab. For all my sisters struggling with the hijab, remember that you are doing it for the sake of the Most High. When you look in the mirror as you are covering, believe that what you are doing is beautiful because it is for a higher purpose.

* Even though our daughter is not yet at the age of accountability and does not need to wear the hijab, we are still mindful of what she wears, avoiding revealing and tight clothing, as a means of protection for her and also to make veiling easier for her once it will be expected of her.

Letting Go

The weather was so beautiful today — after a few hot days, the lightly chilly breeze was much welcome. On a good day, we go out twice and today was one of those good days. We were going for a walk just before dinner, whether the kids liked it or not. They always end up liking it but getting them to put on their shoes and get out of the house is the main obstacle.

We started our walk in the opposite direction of our typical route — a house had their sprinklers on. The water had formed a small puddle on the sidewalk. My first comment to the children was to not step in the puddle and go around it as I did. I am not sure if they heard or not. As I stood there waiting for them to catch up with me and my stroller as they bickered and chatted between themselves, one louder than the other, I gave a second order. This time I told them to form a line, get ready and run through the sprinkler (but only once!). They were ecstatic and so ready. And it felt so good. Of course Zaynab, my oldest who always exaggerates everything, decided to run around in circles instead. Still, it was not hard to get her out of it and onto the next thing as there was a nice set of chalk in vibrant purple and orange left for the next pedestrians to get creative with.

I think this was the highlight of my day. That feeling of just letting go…

Moon the Color of Sand II; by Suzanne Siegel