The 3rd Place Winner of the SparkLife Identity Essay Contest!
You guys submitted some INCREDIBLE essays, and it was such a privilege to read them. Because we got so many great submissions, we will be posting more of them in the next few weeks, so stay tuned! And a big congratulations to our top three! —eds.
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I stood in front of my mirror and placed the white scarf on my head. I wrapped it around causing perfect folds to form.
I pinned the scarf in place and stood back. My palms were sweaty, so I quickly wiped them on my jeans. At the age of 12, I began wearing the hijab, or head scarf. My mom felt I should’ve waited longer, but I knew that moment was the perfect time to start wearing the hijab.
Muslim girls usually start wearing the hijab when they start feeling comfortable with the spiritual and social responsibilities, both positive and negative, that the hijab signifies. I was comfortable. My mother feared I would get hurt. No matter how much my mom persuaded me not to, I had hope that society would be more accepting. I pinned my scarf in place knowing each fold could represent a stereotype, a look of disgust, or a racial slur. I pinned my scarf in place knowing I may never be treated the same again. I swallowed my apprehension. Besides, I definitely wasn’t going to take it off, not only because it took half an hour to perfect every curve, crease, and fold, but because it felt so right.
Later that month, my friend was at the mall and a man passing by pulled her headscarf off. The day after the incident, I stood tall in front of my mirror and placed the scarf upon my head. I was afraid, but instead of not wearing the headscarf, I decided to pin my scarf tighter. I wasn’t willing to back down. As I pinned the scarf in place, I looked into the mirror and saw a woman, not a girl. I was willing to fight my own inner battles and insecurities. I was going to allow myself the right to freedom and happiness. My fear was reasonable and discrimination inevitable, but conquering it was something I did as an adult.
Last year, two muslim women and one muslim man were shot in Chapel Hill. The media claimed it was over a parking dispute, but it was clear to me that it was a hate crime. Again, fear consumed me, but when I saw my reflection in the mirror, a strong, empowered woman stared back. That is what adulthood has taught me. I fear, like the two other muslim women, that a bullet might pierce through the intricate folds of my hijab.
My scarf may not be bulletproof, but it makes me stronger and more confident. I have learned to use these fears as motivation to become a better person. I have also learned that as an adult, it is okay to be afraid. I plan to look back at these moments where my strength and will did not falter to help guide me through the trials of adulthood.
