I wear a scarf, but not around my neck. I am the proud owner of 58 scarves. The scarves range from a vibrant fuchsia, a dazzling turquoise, and one with flaming red and orange polka dots to more modest tans and neutral shades. Though I often receive compliments for my ability to match and accessorize, the scarf is more than a fashion statement. It represents choice.
The hijab is not only the traditional head-covering worn by Muslim women, it is the modest Muslim style of dress. I come from a family of Muslim-Americans that are split between those who wear a hijab and those who choose not to. My mother proudly wears hers whereas my sister has decided against it. For my sister, the scarf was restrictive. But, in a world where risque attire is idolized and sex sells, the notion of women choosing to not attract attention by displaying skin spoke to me.
In our household, wearing a scarf is an individual and respected decision. However, this is not the case in the country of my birth. While visiting Iran this past summer, the sea of scarves did not comfort me as expected.Simply because I knew all too well that it was forced by national law. Unlike me, the women largely were not given the opportunity to make the choice for themselves. The government rule seems to take away the self-expression component that I believe the scarf holds. In the United States the hijab not only adds to my uniqueness, but it also often guides me in making the choices teenagers my age and I are faced with daily.
My scarf is more than just a piece of fabric covering my head. Unlike others, I wear my religion and beliefs on my sleeve. It has also allowed me to shed some light on my religion to others who previously held prejudices. I speak of the matter lightly in order to make others feel comfortable in showing curiosity. And to answer the common question of "Aren't you hot in that thing?", yes it does get hot at times but you eventually get used to it. My decision has gained respect from my family, friends, and coworkers. I have a strong understanding of who I am and what I would like to represent in society. I am the owner of 58 scarves and hope to add more to my collection.
The hijab is not only the traditional head-covering worn by Muslim women, it is the modest Muslim style of dress. I come from a family of Muslim-Americans that are split between those who wear a hijab and those who choose not to. My mother proudly wears hers whereas my sister has decided against it. For my sister, the scarf was restrictive. But, in a world where risque attire is idolized and sex sells, the notion of women choosing to not attract attention by displaying skin spoke to me.
In our household, wearing a scarf is an individual and respected decision. However, this is not the case in the country of my birth. While visiting Iran this past summer, the sea of scarves did not comfort me as expected.Simply because I knew all too well that it was forced by national law. Unlike me, the women largely were not given the opportunity to make the choice for themselves. The government rule seems to take away the self-expression component that I believe the scarf holds. In the United States the hijab not only adds to my uniqueness, but it also often guides me in making the choices teenagers my age and I are faced with daily.
My scarf is more than just a piece of fabric covering my head. Unlike others, I wear my religion and beliefs on my sleeve. It has also allowed me to shed some light on my religion to others who previously held prejudices. I speak of the matter lightly in order to make others feel comfortable in showing curiosity. And to answer the common question of "Aren't you hot in that thing?", yes it does get hot at times but you eventually get used to it. My decision has gained respect from my family, friends, and coworkers. I have a strong understanding of who I am and what I would like to represent in society. I am the owner of 58 scarves and hope to add more to my collection.
