Islam in the City: Homecoming

Volume IV:

homecoming

Editor Yasmeen Atassi Art Director and Designer Tahreem Alvi Writers Maleeha Haq Farrah Kabeer Ruisi Li Basmah Ramadan Khadija Shafi Disclaimer: The ideas and opinions expressed in this issue do not necessarily reflect those of the IITC staff, or those of the Institute of Islamic studies.

Islam in the City is published by the Institute of Islamic Studies at the University of Toronto.

Institute of Islamic Studies The Institute of Islamic Studies (IIS) at the University of Toronto develops research projects that fill critical gaps in society’s understanding of Islam and Muslims.

By centering Islam and Muslims as objects and subjects of research, the IIS offers a critical viewpoint from which we can better understand our world.

Twitter: @IISUofT Website: iis.utoronto.ca Issuu: iis-uoft Email: islamicstudies@utoronto.ca

08 Stuck In Transit: Hidden Challenges of Commuting as a Hijabi 16

World in Hounding Me

20 Serenity in Bloom 24 The Eternal Quest for Love; Finding God in Self-Love 32 You and I

6

home·com·ing /ˈhōmˌkəmiNG/ noun noun: an instance of returning home.

Editors Address When it was time to come up with a theme for the Summer issue of Islam in the City, we kept coming back to the concept of renewal and return to habits, whether that was an unaltered return or one that has gone through a major transformation. As we all return to our “old” habits and slowly begin to let go of the overwhelming tension and stress that has been the main driving force for our thoughts, actions, decisions, and desires for the past two years, we are offered the opportunity to return to these habits with a changed perception. We are offered the opportunity to conduct a sort of post-mortem on our own lives from an outside perspective.

With these thoughts in mind, the “Homecoming” edition of Islam in the City was born.

Though “home” may be a figurative reference to the home within us, we return from time spent between foreign feelings and forced readjustment. What were we taking advantage of before we were consumed by that time of uncertainty? What did we seek comfort in through these times we have endured while away from routine with which we were well-acquainted? How have many of our habits originated from compounded, yet unintentional, decisions? What do we make of these chances for a return coloured by our changed and renewed perspectives?

Answering such questions is no easy feat, as it requires introspection beyond what many of us want to indulge in. But even the smallest re-evaluation and simplification of our actions and choices allow this sort of reflection to come rather naturally.

Through this edition, the Islam in the City team set out to dissect and understand how the personal habits and lifestyle choices of individuals in the Toronto community have changed, particularly through the lens of Islamic culture or Muslim identity in the city. Through explorations of commuting practices to dating culture in the city to reflections on personal relationships with Islam, whether as a revert or otherwise, this edition presents critical reflections on vulnerable transitions and thoughts during a time of change and return.

As you read these articles and poems and observe the different art and photographs throughout, I hope you, too, are granted the mental space to return to the essence behind your habits and where there is potential for reclaiming autonomy by returning to a “home” within yourself?

Warm regards,

7

8

STUCK IN Transit: 9 Hidden Challenges of Commuting as a Hijabi Basmah Ramadan

10 Commuting on the subway and walking in downtown Toronto always came with its baggage. After a long pause in my daily treks to and from UofT’s downtown campus, my gradual return to campus was accompanied by a new, daunting feeling of dread.

You may ask, why was it daunting? Simply put, I am a visibly Muslim woman. This means that my experience of the world around me is largely coloured by people’s perceptions of me and what I represent to them. My expression of Islam, in particular, means that I am easily spotted by other commuters around me.

As my trips downtown became more frequent, I began to notice the routine I created and observed while commuting: Studying my surroundings begins with walking down the street to the subway station. I become hyper-conscious of my proximity to the crosswalk and the street as I wait for the crossing signal to turn from red to white, indicating that it is my turn to cross. As I stand waiting, I find myself distancing myself enough from the crossroad to protect myself; far enough that a potentially rogue car cannot cause harm. Even if I am in a rush and forget, I move back the minute I realize.

When the light turns white, I continue to keep an eye on my surroundings by fixating on the cars turning, to ensure that I am out of harm’s way.

motivated racist attack. I try to stand against a wall or pillar where I know that my back is protected.

It was weird to recognize how I was naturally getting back to this routine after many months of not using the subway regularly. Returning to the same habit of protecting my back made me realize how embedded it was in my commute.

I was shocked when I learned that many Muslim women in my community share the same experience; one that often went undisclosed and not discussed. It was not only about hearing their experiences but also finding out they had a detailed list of people they would stand next to; a person of colour, male or female, young or old. I came to the unfortunate realization that we all had to add another layer of consideration into our commute because we needed to accommodate the fear we felt.

I did not notice how much this was prominent in my life until the London Van Attack of 2021; an attack that killed 4 family members and injured a young boy simply because of their appearance as Muslims. This is not the first Islamophobic attack that I have witnessed, however, this one hit much closer to home. Leisurely walks around our neighbourhood in North York became a regular part of our family routine during the After arriving at the subway platform, descending on the pandemic, as many people resorted to such a group activity escalator provides me with ample time to observe those to relieve stress and get fresh air during the lockdown. My parents waiting for the subway. I see people scrolling through their and I would walk around, grab a warm drink, and enjoy the phones, distracted by what is playing through their cold breeze. However, following that attack, we were hesitant headphones, or simply waiting for the approaching train. As to maintain it.

I step off the escalator, I take into account two factors; the surrounding crowds and my proximity to that dreaded yellow Understanding the thought process behind Muslim women line. I feel my pace unintentionally quicken as I approach a group travelling in the city is important. The unfortunate reality is that of rowdy teens. Even without processing my perceptions despite the shared concern for our safety, the effort to protect of danger, I know deep down that I would be at ease elsewhere. Muslim women is close to nonexistent. In Alberta alone, over 8 I find myself walking faster when the platform becomes Muslim women between 2020 and 2021 were physically and narrower due to any obstructions, whether that is construction, verbally assaulted while waiting for transit and walking down an escalator, or an elevator. I watch who I will be standing the street. However, the commitment by the local government next to as I wait for the subway to arrive. to fight Islamophobic attacks is nowhere to be found.[1] I recall these instances of fear and calculated actions not to victimize or Upon my arrival, I start to search for a family. As someone to create fear in our community, as we have proven the strength who is family-oriented, I constantly seek comfort in families. I of our unity. It is about understanding how our intersectional prefer to stand next to a family because their interactions identity, as visible Muslim women, complicates our movement with their children makes me comfortable and relaxed. In the and existence in public spaces. instance where I cannot find a family, I search for a visible minority like myself. As a visible minority, I seek comfort I am unapologetically Muslim; I love my hijab and I love who around those who have an identity like mine, one that they do I am. I will not apologize for being Muslim and I will continue not want to hide. to stand against injustices that affect us. I have accepted that whether I am on the subway, walking down the street, or in class, Now that I have surrounded myself with someone I am I can be subject to a hate-motivated, and often racist, encounter. comfortable around, the next step is about positioning myself Instead of walking on the platform like I am taking up space that in that space. I check if I am standing too close to the yellow I do not belong in, I made it my goal to walk confidently with my line. If I am, I slowly begin to step as far away from the line for head high, making eye contact and smiling a little, if someone the sad reality that I fear I will be the victim of another hateis staring too much.

“Understanding the thought process behind MUSLIM WOMEN TRAVELING IN THE CITY is important. The unfortunate reality is that despite the shared concern for our safety, THE EFFORT TO PROTECT MUSLIM WOMEN IS CLOSE TO NONEXISTENT.”

14 “I am UNAPOLOGETICALLY MUSLIM; I love my hijab and I love who I am. I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE FOR BEING MUSLIM and I will continue to stand against injustices that affect us.”

15 As Muslims, we are often reminded of the comfort and protection that is granted to us by Allah and His gracious words during such situations. Although life is not an easy test to get through, we await bigger rewards in the hereafter, inshAllah (God-willing). Allah says in the Surah Al ‘Imran, "And certainly We shall test you with something of fear; hunger; loss of wealth, lives and fruits (or crops), but give glad tidings to the patient ones" (Quran, 2:155). And though such comfort is an essential part of living in unfamiliar surroundings, comfort and safety granted to us through allyship and consideration of the community around us are also essential.

As I reflect on my experiences, shared by many Muslim women, I am reminded that change is only possible if we receive the appropriate support to transform the Islamophobic systems in place. It starts by transforming words into actions, whether that be through raising awareness or holding the systems of oppression accountable for their promises to maintain a safe and hospitable environment for all those that inhabit it. The first challenge to becoming an active ally, should you accept, is to advocate against Bill 21. This bill passed in Quebec in 2019 forbids people from wearing religious symbols in public service roles. This Bill not only dictates what people wear but also maintains a racist and xenophobic system. This is the first step to real change and with everyone’s support and advocacy, we can achieve milestones.

The next time you are on your way downtown or walking in your neighbourhood and see a visibly Muslim mother, sister, aunt, friend, or stranger taking the subway, know that their mind is actively working to make sure they reach their destination safely. Be a source of comfort and support, not fear and anxiety.

[1] Send a letter to the leaders of Alberta on Islamophobic attacks. NCCM. (2021, June 2). Retrieved March 17, 2022, from https://www.nccm.ca/alberta/

The WORLD * in hounding me

By Khadija Shafi

It is a quiet morning

. in a dark , loud world

“Do not tarr y,” the World urges.

“Walk briskly, look ahead.”

ks at me, But the half-melted snow win gbirds.

And I stop to listen to the son e past, I glimpse a dark squirrel glid ite.

A blur of black in a sea of wh I lose sight of it as it cli mbs up a tr trunk . Bare e e. A branches.

Life surges with in that lifele ss facade, Waiting for spring to b e unleashe d.

moss-clad

“You make an odd sight,” the World tuts.

“Standing there doing nothing.”

I move. Th

e sidewalk is empty b ut for me a mother And holding he r daughte gloved. He r’ s hand. Sma ld adoring ll, ly, protecti

v e ly .

It ’s a love that even the songb irds unders tand.

Behind my mask, I utter a familiar su pp lication: O God, W blessings I or any hatever of Your creation ha ve this morning, It is from You, alone, m all y Lord. You have no partner.

To You I give praise, and to You I give thanks.

The mother and da ughter don’t know I’ve prayed on thei Neither do the so r behalf, ngbirds and the sq uirrel and the tree.

They don’t see m y smiling lips mov e.

They don’t hear th e whisper.

ides, impatient. ?” the World ch

int of this “What is the po e. Get going.”

“Stop wasting tim

Footsteps falling.

Clocks ticking. To o early, too late.

Fingers clicking aw ay at keyboards.

W eary eyes. Bad ne Masks and red co ws. ffee cups lodged in the muddied sn ow.

The world doesn’ t wait for you to ca tch your breath.

too late. king. Too early, tic s ck lo C . ng lli Footsteps fa eyes. Bad news. yboards. Weary ke at ay aw ng died snow.

Fingers clicki dged in the mud lo ps cu e ffe co ur breath.

Masks and red you to catch yo r fo t ai w t n’ es The world do If we leave it all behin Then what d when we is the purp go, ose?

Bleak thou ghts swirl a nd settle, Harsh as s now, dull a s dust.

“No, no, no!” the World says frantically.

“Life is beautiful! Love yourself! Love me!”

But there are thin gs that are hard to love.

The self, with its gu ilts and shortcom ings.

The world, with its wars and plagues.

Life, with its unce rtainties and grie fs.

d on.

There is but one love that can be relie A steadfast hope.

An unbreakable rope to hold on to. all, I beseech you with Your Mercy.

O Ever-Living One , O Sustainer of k of an eye . entrust me to myself even for the blin Set right all my affairs, and do not I wrest a few min utes of the day From the strong ja ws of the world. beg the chaos in my head to cease.

rk or fed distractions, No longer being forced to wo , unearthing buried worries, My mind buzzes even louder glings, red beaks wide open.

Screaming like hungry fled much I’ve prayed.

Guilt pricks me as I doubt how What am I after? In the next life, I know, But in this one, this short one, what am I seeking ?

What brought me to thi s cold, busy city?

Is it ungrateful of me to regret this?

17

18

I had dreams. I followed them, Crossing arid de serts and botto mless seas, Trudging throug h mud and slippi ng on ice, Wandering thro ugh woods, and now I’m Lost.

ds, wide-eyed.

“Listen,” the World clutches my han happy.

“Once you get past this, you will be Truly. I promise. Work hard, play hard , no?

Your dreams will come true! Your worries, gone!

You’ll be successful, rich, beautiful!”

Its voice drops. It tightens its grip on my hands and whispers, “Remember, I’m all you’ve got. Afte r me, there is nothingness.

You must find a way to love me. I hav e plenty of ways to tempt you.”

Its hands are sticky and clammy.

Its eyes dart with the hunted, greedy look of a fly.

Garish garb hiding a famished, dying body. I pity it.

“Don’t tr y to sell what you don’t I pull my hands have,” out of its grasp.

It gasps.

“Eternal happin ess. Complete ju stice.

There’s a time an d place for these But you don’t ha things, ve them.

Slaving for you won’t bring them .

Ever ything abou t you is short-liv ed and flawed.”

“Well, you can’t live without me!”

It challenges, chin thrust forward.

“You’re a part of me, whether you like it or not.”

“That’s true,” I smile. “We’re travel companions on a brief journey. I guess we’re stuck together for a while. You’re my test.

To pass, I must treat you well but avoid your clutches.

From now on we deal on my terms, not yours.”

19

hand.

The World clasps my outstretched ,” it grins. I that ise “Can’t prom

shake its hand anyway.

Title inspired by the poem “World in Hounding Me” by Sor Juana Ines De La Cruz.

*

SERENITY in Bloom

By Ruisi Li

21

22

23

Ruisi Liu is a new Muslim convert/revert who welcomed Islam in 2020. As a first-generation Chinese-Canadian, she finds particles of her identity in her East Asian roots through snippets of daily city life. Her photos aim to capture ephemeral and spiritual moments, which exist temporarily in the delicate moments preceding the bustle of the city that often distracts one's inner mystic. Ruisi's art is inspired

by Sufism, Islamic Theology, Imam Al-Ghazali, Confucianist sociology, and every wonderful thing which reflects and praises the Almighty.

24

The ETERNAL QUEST for Love; Finding GOD in Self-Love

25

By Farrah Kabeer

I was a 20-something-year-old single Muslimah in Toronto.

I was having a hard time in the dating scene. Not only was I a single Muslim, but I was a bisexual single Muslim woman.

I had relationship issues and money issues galore. On top of that, I was a Sufi Muslim Mystic. That meant I had high standards for a romantic partner. I was a lover of God. In order to access me, you had to have access to God. And I could not find many spiritual people in such a materialistic city where everything was a rat race. I searched for the face of God at university dorm room parties. Like the mystic poet Rumi, I searched for God and my lover in vain in a cup of wine. And I did not find it. What I did not realize was that the search for a Lover was really a search for the ultimate Lover, God.

26 PART 1: THE EXPLORATION I dated around; had my heart broken by men and women.

With these decisions I made in the search of love came the shame and sin; the fear that “God hates me for being bisexual, God hates me for having and enjoying sex”. This was all topped with the pressures of being a 20-something Muslim surrounded by the accomplishments and milestones of my more traditional, heterosexual Muslim friends. They were getting engaged, buying houses, and graduating meanwhile I was still juggling my mental health with my degree and my heartbreaks. I was stumbling as I tried to navigate a fastpaced city where people struggled to care about anything but themselves and about making ends meet. During this period of turmoil, I sought solace in my community circles and friends. Though the struggle of connection was felt by the majority of the LGBT community, it was felt at varying degrees.

Lesbians seemed to be having the best time as many of them were settling down. All the while gay Muslim men were struggling with Grinder and bisexual folks seemed to be getting the short end of both straws. As a bisexual woman, being rejected by lesbians became a repeated occurrence because I dated men. So, I was ostracized by the lesbian community. However, gay men welcomed me into their communities because we bonded over being outcasts to the rest of heterosexual society. But these men weren’t Muslim, with most belonging to non-POC communities. I got proposed to twice from ages 15 to 26, both ending with pain and heartbreak because of my parents’ objections. It was at this point, after years of feeling lost and hurt, that I realized I needed to focus on myself and work on my own well-being in therapy.

27

28 “Out BEYOND IDEAS of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field.

I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass the world IS TOO FULL to talk about.

What you seek, IS SEEKING YOU.” —Rumi

29 PART 2: THE REALIZATION I was still struggling with the internalized feelings of shame and guilt for being a bisexual Muslim who enjoyed sex, almost exclusively in ways I was taught to avoid. I enjoyed sex before marriage. I enjoyed sex, period. I am a sexual assault survivor and good healthy sex felt healing and therapeutic. And I certainly wasn’t going to believe my father’s constant reminders that God would supposedly hate me for that. It is through this pain that I eventually turned to Sufism for solace and a better understanding of the love of God. The mystic Sufi poet Rumi brought me great comfort in reflections on my own struggles navigating loneliness: “Do not feel lonely, the entire universe is inside you.”

– Mevlana Jellaluddin Rumi; Sufi Master and Sheikh of the Mevlevi Sufi order I can’t describe the pain I felt after two relationships crumbled before me because my uber Muslim parents disproved of the men I was interested in. They found issues with their culture, sexual orientation, and, on top of it all, my own expressions of sexuality.

Through the pain, I dove deep into Sufism in hopes that I would understand how the universe was working around me. Through this, realized the love of God was always there with me.

PART 3: “Don’t be satisfied with stories, how things have "gone with others. Unfold your own myth.”

– Mevlana Jellaluddin Rumi As a bisexual BIPOC Muslimah, all I had to share was stories of heartbreak and rejection— societal and parental—for the love I shared with other people. I was tired of telling the same stories of pain. I wanted a new life and a new hope. A life that did not contain heartbreak, but rather contained empowerment, love, beauty, and the hope of Rejection being God’s protection.

These people whom I had given so much love to had become victims of the plethora of failed relationships I had suffered.

No matter how much love and understanding we exchanged, I had to come to the realization that they were not the right people for me. My grandma always said, “Rejection is God’s protection”. What abandoned me was never mine. And what is mine will never abandon me.

PART 4: THE DISCOVERY OF SELF-LOVE "You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean, in a drop.”

“If the foot of the trees were not tied to the earth, they would be pursuing me. For I have blossomed so much, I am the envy of the gardens.”

“Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion.”

– Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi Now single and 26, full of heartbreak and pain, with most of my friends in committed relationships, I had to rely wholeheartedly on God in the quest to find love, both self-love and romantic love, because finding true love was impossible without having self-love first; A painful lesson I realized too late. So, therefore, the quest to find self-love had to take priority now.

I seriously had to pause and take a good, hard look at my soul.

I had been through trauma as a queer Muslimah. I had also been a survivor of sexual assault. I had gone to therapy and gained a semblance of control over my life and thoughts.

But …why? Did I truly love myself?

It seemed for most of my early 20s, I had used relationships to fill a void in my soul, a gaping empty void that reached out with open arms to anyone who cared and said, “Please be my soulmate and make me complete”. Make me Whole.

Make me complete. I had to realize that it was my own love and companionship that I was seeking all along. I was seeking union with myself, I was seeking to complete myself, and realized that I already am a whole, complete person.

I am who I am. I am me. Farrah. My grandpa gave me my name because it means Joy in Arabic. And I wished to be joy, to bring light where there was darkness.

And, up until that point, it was Joy that alluded me in life.

So, I went back to the drawing board of the quest to find love.

I was a hopeless romantic at heart. Though I still believed in soulmates and hope to find mine, I took solace this time in God’s promise in the Quran: “And among His Signs is this, that He created for you mates from among yourselves, that ye may dwell in tranquillity with them, and He has put love and mercy between your (hearts): verily in that are Signs for those who reflect.”

Quran, 30:21

30 I AM a Muslim. After a lifetime of heartbreak, Faith was the one thing I could not afford to lose. Yes, I was jaded because of all the painful experiences I endured, but that wasn't the end for me. I enrolled in twice-weekly therapy and started seeing a psychiatrist, exercising, working out, reading spiritual books, and delving deeper and deeper into the love of God. I started taking care of myself, prioritizing myself, and giving the love I wanted to give to others to myself. The love of God that I got in return was like a sweet breeze that soothed my broken heart. The love of God was like a voice deep within me that kept saying: “What you seek is seeking you” – Rumi I had to have faith in God, and in myself, that despite the oddsbeing against me, despite living in a city that was harsh, competitive, and isolating God still had a greater plan for me, God still had a greater romance for me. God still had a better life for me than I could dream of. And yes, I dared to believe that could be a loving partner.

PART 5: THE PRACTICE OF SELF-LOVE Now I had was preparing to face the present. I was back on the streets of Toronto (Socially distanced of course), and on the apps, interacting with people, getting to know them, meeting the friends of my friends, trying to reconcile old, failed situations, and making amends to people I may have wronged.

I spent many sleepless nights crying about love and the state of the world, about if I would ever find that special someone.

The trauma of abandonment espoused in me by my parents’ lack of support reinforced the fear that would I ever find someone and be able to keep them? I realized the answer was simply that I had to stop abandoning myself and be present for myself. I had to do what made me happy without societal or religious judgement or shaming and embrace the Pure Unconditional Love of God as a Sufi in order to find that special someone. So, I am still on that journey, as are many young Muslims. I am not alone in this. But if you are one such young Muslim searching for love, I urge you to realize that you are truly just looking to find yourself in that special someone.

It’s not about them. It’s about how they make you feel. And feeling peaceful and tranquil (as the verse says) is what we should seek in our mates.

If you are plagued by the qualms of dating in Toronto while feeling like you are surrounded by love and committed relationships, I leave you once again with the noble words of Rumi; “Go find yourself first so you can also find me.” ― Rumi

31

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34

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36

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Image Credits 1

Collage from pages 16-17 re-imagined: Clair Fischer on Unsplash Mika Korhonen on Unsplash Não Takabayashi on Unsplash Sulistyo Satriyo Ian on Unsplash Zach Reiner on Unsplash

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Haley Truong on Unsplash

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Rob Curran on Unsplash

16 Collage: Clair Fischer on Unsplash Mika Korhonen on Unsplash Não Takabayashi on Unsplash Sulistyo Satriyo Ian on Unsplash Zach Reiner on Unsplash 26 Multiple Collages: Alexander Krivitski on Unsplash 32 Annie Spratt on Unsplash

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