Staring down at the glossy red ceramic platter in my hands, I wonder how a crispy stuffed bird or succulent medallions of braised meat will look against the lipstick red. Perhaps the antique white platter with the retro holly pattern will better serve my culinary masterpieces. The white one is actually already sitting in my cart. Admittedly, I am trying to justify getting both platters.
My frivolous concentration is interrupted by the joyful exclamation of a small boy riding by me in a cart with his baby sister sleeping in her car seat in the basket.

“Mommy, mommy! It’s Mary, it’s Mary!”

I glance over and give him a big smile. I’m not Mary, but I know why he thinks I am. The first couple of times I was mistaken for Mary were awkward moments. Even though I do resemble her somewhat, I was caught off guard, as are all the mommies whose children make this innocent mistake.

Today the little boy continues to try to get his Mommy’s attention, but she hurries down the isle without acknowledging either of us and they are quickly out sight, just as fast as the first time a child called me “Mary.”

Here, amongst the pine and pumpkin pie scented candles and plastic mistletoe, the boy was genuinely delighted to see Mary, too. He’s probably been seeing Mary a lot lately. She is popping up on people’s lawns and in pageants around town. She is even featured in the Oriental Trading Company catalog, surrounded by inflatable palms and stable animals. Like the little girl models in the catalog, I too cover my hair with a scarf. I am a Muslim woman that wears a hijab. Here under the soft department store lights that are somehow supposed to encourage rampant spending, I look a bit like the iconic Virgin Mary in the baroque style.

Really, I think I’m too old to look like Mary, but that just makes his comment all the more complimentary. Even if just a comparison in looks, I feel an immense honor to be mistaken for the mother of a great prophet. Isa or Jesus in the Christian tradition is also a prophet to Muslims. His mother Mariam (Mary) is revered as one of the four best women in paradise and the Quran has entire chapter written for her.

Loading my bags into my minivan, I realize that I still have a great big grin on my face. It will stay with me all day.

The White Privilege and the Ummah series has been nominated for a Brass Crescent Award. It is really encouraging and inspiring to know that enough people got something out of the series to remember it and nominate it.  I would like to be clear that this series was in no way an origination of my own, it was completely inspired by Jamerican Muslimah.

One thing I have learned in theory and practice during the last couple of years I have been learning about the ongoing injustice of racism is that white people generally don’t like to talk about racism at all and specifically don’t like to talk about it with people of color. I hope that any Mozzies who may pass through here in the coming days are able to see that as a challenge and begin listening to those who know best about racism and live with its reality of on a daily basis.

Here are some good places to start:

Jamerican Muslimah’s Veranda

Margari Aziza: Reflections at the Intersection of Islam, Race and Gender

The Manrilla Blog: Exploring Islam Through the Social Sciences

Racialicious: The Intersection of Race and Pop Culture

Resist Racism

The Ramadan Grinch has tagged me and since I have mad respect for her, I feel obliged to reply. Safiyyah, who has nearly received head wounds from the shortest, unreasonable attendees at the masjid, was sent an invite recently:

From: Muhammad Alshareef info@discoverulife.com
Subject: Idea: Family I’tikaaf night …
To: “Safiyyah” Jihadlevine@yahoo.com
Date: Saturday, September 12, 2009, 5:01 AMhttp://www.postramadan.com/AlMaghrib Institute, 1 stafford Rd, Ottawa, ON K2H 1B9, Canada

Safiyyah, Idea: Family I’tikaaf night!

Why not head out to the Masjid tonight as a family and spend the whole night worshipping Allah?

If you have younger family members, just make sure they are by your side and not disturbing anyone and you should be alright.

In sha Allah, it’ll be an unforgettable family experience, and may be so enjoyable that everyone may wish to do it again and again!

With best wishes to see you succeed at the highest level!
- Muhammad Alshareef

Now, I totally agree with Safiyyah that most likely this will turn into mommy double duty, but Allahualim–there are some daddies out there that love to be hands on–either way, I say go for it!

Locally (and my community should in no way reflect the greater American Ummah) there are hardly any folks (brothers only actually) spending itikaaf in the masjid. Teens? Forget about it. Children? None–except my son *big wink*.

How are kids going to grow into their deen if they are physically kept from it? Being mature enough to stay overnight worshipping in the masjid should be a right of passage that children see as part of their moving through the age of distinction and into accountability.

Not only is it awesome, masha Allah, that folks are organizing these kinds of things, but it is especially considerate to have one night set aside for “family night” during itikaaf so that other folks have the chance to opt out and spend that night at another masjid.

Come on Safiyyah, take the coal out of your sack, pack some halal s’mores and go be big aunty.

Year round The Muslims in America whine about the problem of unruly children in the masjid, but with Ramadan iftars in abundance and tarawee prayers upon us the complaintfest reaches a new frenzy. Personally, I don’t take my kids to the masjid during jummah or for tarawee because I’m sure that their presence (and all that entails) does disturb others and that inturn disturbs me too. However, I have frequently said that if you can’t pray with some kids making some noise, let’s hope you never have to pray on a battlefield or in a war zone.

Just imagine:

Bukhari – Volume 2, Book 14, Number 64:
Narrated Shu’aib:
I asked Az-Zuhri, “Did the Prophet ever offer the Fear Prayer?” Az-Zuhri said, “I was told by Salim that ‘Abdullah bin Umar I had said, ‘I took part in a holy battle with Allah’s Apostle I in Najd. We faced the enemy and arranged ourselves in rows. Then Allah’s Apostle (p.b.u.h) stood up to lead the prayer and one party stood to pray with him while the other faced the enemy. Allah’s Apostle (p.b.u.h) and the former party bowed and performed two prostrations. Then that party left and took the place of those who had not
prayed. Allah’s Apostle prayed one Raka (with the latter) and performed two prostrations and finished his prayer with Taslim. Then everyone of them bowed once and performed two prostrations individually.’ ”

The main thing about these complaints that I find completely baseless is that the blame is so heavily laden on The Women.  A few years ago a friend of mine was being absolutely bashed by her community for bringing her small (and very active) child to tarawee every night. The situation was becoming miserable for her, yet she kept showing up. Sisters were backbiting her throughout Ramadan. Yet she kept showing up. Turns out because the husband insisted. Did any brothers take him aside and ask him to get a grip on the kid? I dunno, but I hear that did not happen.

This morning I found this articlein my email. I was surprised (annoyed!) that it was posted on a group I belong to which is usually very good about offering information only with proper daleel/evidences, but with this topic they (he) were eager to jump on the women and children bashing bandwagon. This is a strictly op ed piece that again puts the blame squarely on women, who can not be restricted from going to the masjid, but surely the hubby could insist she not take the kids–if they really present reason not to take them. Nobody likes punkbutt kids (and they are the ones making a hard time for the rest of ‘em), but I have never heard any proof that children should be universally banned from the masjid, all that I have read has been completely to the contrary:

The Prophet said, “(It happens that) I start the prayer intending to prolong it, but on hearing the cries of a child, I shorten the prayer because I know that the cries of the child will incite its mother’s passions.” (Al-Bukhari)**

Narrated Abu Qatadah: “The Messenger of Allah came towards us while carrying Umamah the daughter of Abi Al-`As (Prophet’s granddaughter) over his shoulder. He prayed, and when he wanted to bow, he put her down, and when he stood up he lifted her up.” (Al-Bukhari)**

**from an excellent article written by Amatullah Abdullah about “The Prophet’s [SAW] Compassion for Children” for Islamonline.

So when you see my kids running around after iftar and you hear them (though really you should try to have better concentration than that!) snickering during tarawee know two things: First of all, my husband took them, not me. And secondly my kids look forward to Ramadan, iftars and tarawee the way some kids look forward to Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. It is their Ramadan as much as it is yours. If you have proof that they shouldn’t be there, bring it. Otherwise, find solutions or whine into the wind.

My first tag! Hajar or Tales From An American Nomad says that I am “Freakin Fabulous” and rather than argue with her, as I am trying to be on my best behavior, I’ll just play along.

The rules of this award are;
•List five current obsessions.
•Pass the award on to five more fabulous blogs.
•On your post of receiving this award, make sure you include the person that gave you the award and link it back to them.
•When you post your five winners, make sure you link them as well. Don’t forget to let your winners know they won an award from you by leaving a comment on their blog.

1. Hijrah
2. Detstashing
3. Back-to-the-Land
4. Home Renovation
5. Stashing

Itto of Itto’s Moroccan Berber Journal

Aaminah and Mai’a Reflecting on the Meaning of Ramadan

Two of my loves: Food and Sisters! at Joy Luck Kitchen

Safiyya of Shaalom 2 Salaam

And though she has mostly abandoned her bloggy, she is still one of my very favorites! Ummadam’s Soliloquies of A Stranger

Work your Ramadan people–work it!

In the spring of 1996, I was in my early twenties, had been studying to be a fine artist for a few years and was nearly done with my bachelor’s degree. I worked a couple of part-time jobs with mentally and physically disabled adults and volunteered facilitating art classes to extremely under-privileged children. I had moved in with a painter and poet friend of mine who was in the advanced stages of AIDS. I had not realized how advanced and was soon caring for him at the end of his life. I lived with and cared for him up until about a week before he died when I had to put him in a hospice. To this day I have some guilt about being responsible for removing him from his home and sending him off to a place where he knew he would die.  Though he weighed very little, I couldn’t lift him; especially not out of the bathtub where he was most comfortable and wanted to spend most of his time. Neither of us was sleeping very much and he would call out to God often during the night. Naturally he was being very emotional, having outbursts that confused and frightened me. Though I knew he was very sick, I didn’t want to believe that he was dying–immediately– and I still didn’t think he would die in the “end of the road” hospice. He had always been sick for the few short years that I knew him. He always got better. I had other friends who died from AIDS, but I had not closely witnessed their final days like I had with Don.

Though my transcripts say I did, I don’t remember finishing that semester. I barely remember leaving my jobs I had worked at for a few years and loved so much. I decided to take a year off of everything. I loved the city of my birth where I had a great circle of friends, interesting and plentiful job opportunities; and I was going to a small, prestigious school that had been my first choice for college. Still, I began having this little nagging feeling of “is this it?” Don was my only friend that occasionally discussed God, though rarely as he seemed to understand that Godtalk wasn’t very vogue amongst our circles. Being twenty years older than me, he was uncle-ish, though he would prefer the term big-brother. He was my only friend who I thought of as spiritual.

I didn’t have any spiritual ambitions. I even had this idea that most people (even Jesus) didn’t get into their religion until they were fairly mature, well into their adulthood–definitely not in their hedonistic twenties, so I could wait.  I had not been raised religiously and only had a personal consciousness of God. My parents both believed there was a God; we just never discussed it any further. They never said things like “Because that’s how God…” They didn’t go to church. They didn’t pray over their meals.

One day when I was in the fifth grade my classmates were discussing where they had each been baptized. I had no idea what baptism was and I was very interested to hear about all the different churches they went to. Today I doubt that everyone in that room could have been Christian, but on that day, it seemed as I was the only one left out. I asked a few friends if I could go to church with them. I liked Charlotte’s church best and started going regularly with her to the First Baptist Church of South San Francisco. It was in an old theater house with the original elaborate interior and a great, big Jacuzzi in the lobby for baptizing worshippers. There was a full band with an electric guitar and everyone dressed for church. Imagine big hats and enormous jewelry, fur stoles and shiny, bright shoes.  Having grown up around theater folks, well, I can easily see why I was smitten with this environment.

I vaguely remember Sunday school in the church basement. I remember bristling at being told that my tomboy-self would have to start wearing a skirt and being further annoyed when my new culottes weren’t good enough. I also vaguely remember making crafts and learning Bible stories. I remember being very uncomfortable with The Conception Story. My young heart just wouldn’t accept it. It made me feel badly about God and intrinsically I felt that it wasn’t right to feel badly about our Creator. I felt as though nothing about God should make me feel uncomfortable. I felt something was wrong and my teachers seemed frustrated with my confusion. My inquisitive disposition often frustrated adults and my Sunday school teachers didn’t seemed to want to explain things to me as much as I wanted. I couldn’t understand the Trinity; there weren’t any answers. One Sunday, Charlotte and I were watching a grown man being baptized in the Jacuzzi and she remarked that I would do that soon. I knew then that I couldn’t and I slowly began excommunicating myself from the church.

Thirteen years later, I wasn’t even aware that I was re-embarking on my search for God.  I thought I was only going to check out the other major American metropolises and their terminally hip art schools. I split Don’s things amongst our friends and put my stuff into storage. First on the agenda was a few months in Los Angeles with my step-sister–a generous woman with an unusual, crippling sense of karma. UCLA was cool. The beach was gorgeous and I spent as much time as I could rolling on the cement pathway. But, The Industry was invasive and I didn’t think LA would be the best place for me to study and make art. By the end of the summer I was eager to get on a train and head to New York for more inspiring prospects. My best friend met me at Penn Station and we rushed out to spend the last seventeen dollars in my pocket so I could enjoy complete worldly freedom. Three days in Brooklyn and I had two great jobs with tips to live on. A few weeks later and I had found another room of my own. I was replacing a roommate who was headed off to India to be married. We met very briefly and she left me her futon bed and a collection of paperbacks.

New York had a much better pace for me. I was making lots of new acquaintances, seeing loads of art, reading some good books and eating well for free at my jobs. Though New York was great, very soon into my visit I knew that San Francisco was still the best place for me. So, I enjoyed my time believing I would return home with the right decisions already made.

One night I was helping a new friend paint her new apartment. Afterwards we went to her employer’s restaurant for eats. She introduced me to the chef who she called “cuz.” They explained to me that since she was Jewish and he was Muslim, they were cousins. I had only faintly known a few Muslims back home and my Jewish friends were admittedly secular. One of the things I found odd about New York was everyone’s emphasis on their ethnic, religious or whatever-else identification. Never in my life had I been asked so often “what are you?” That evening, The Cousins gave me an entertaining but accurate religious education. I had never given any thought to Judaism, which I believed you had to be born into and I all I knew about Islam was that Your Black Muslim Bakery served some fine pie.  I hadn’t made the typical Arab=Muslim equation, rather I thought of Muslims as being primarily Black Americans and Arabs as some kind of Other like Jews. Looking back, it’s funny that although the three religions are all Abrahamic faiths, I didn’t know that and yet I still thought of them as all being the same—as in the often repeated generalization that all organized religions are the same. Religions may be (ab)used similarly, but they are not the same.

Maybe I was more geography- and history-challenged than your average American. A roommate of mine had once (as in one date) dated a Muslim guy. He didn’t so much as kiss her as he was looking for a girl to marry. We had thought that was amusingly quaint and looked up his country-of-origin in the Encyclopedia. Yes, I was quite ignorant and after my night with The Cousins, I consciously decided to educate myself a bit; Iwas intrigued about the possibility of finding some missing-to-me truth.

Being in New York for just a few more months, I postponed my Truth Quest while I continued working, seeing the sites and hanging with new friends. I did manage to read a couple of the books left in my room and to this day I believe they contributed to my overall conversion process, but Allahualim. The first was Under a Sickle Moon:  A Journey through Afghanistan by journalist Peregrine Hodson. The other was Carla Grissman’s Dinner or Herbs, a travel memoir about her experience in a remote village in Anatolia. Neither of these books are written by Muslims and as far as I know, neither author converted.  It wasn’t the authors that struck me; it was the manners, generosity and spirits of the subjects they wrote about that stayed with me on my journey.

I went home to San Francisco that summer and readied myself to return to school. Mostly that meant sleeping on my other best friend’s couch and finding a strategically placed job somewhere between Bernal Heights and North Beach (not a difficult task, I’m being facetious).  In-between I scoured the used bookstores in the Mission looking for any books about Islam, Sufism and some Judaism. I first read the Quran by going through the index and picking out topics that most interested me. I read sections related to women first.  As I’ve said, I wasn’t raised Christian, but I now realize that just being raised in America, I had been well exposed to ideas about the nature of woman that stem from Biblical interpretations. The Quran, especially the story of Adam and Eve (Hawa) are quite different, much gentler, than the Christian version which has so much hostility aimed at Eve. From reading the Quran, I finally felt that God was a merciful being.

When school started up, I was absolutely miserable. Discussing art ad nauseum had lost all appeal. Browsing through the phenomenal collection of art books in library had lost its appeal. My friends, haunts and hobbies had lost their appeals. Someone for some reason had told me about the computer lab having this new thing that was really useful for research; something about a “web.” I remember my first session and how annoyed the computer lab guy was with my complete lack of technical process and silly questions like “Is there someone on the other end right now?” This wasn’t chat or instant messaging I was asking about, these were the first websites I ever saw! Islam was my only keyword search.

I feel a bit for the Muslims coming into the deen through the net these days. There is so much erroneous information about Islam these days, not just from non-Muslims but from Muslims as well. And the hate sites are atrocious.  Back then, the sites were so impressive on the new medium. I visited jannah.org and combed through the mamalist every time I went to the computer lab. I was especially impressed by how Muslim women and teens were creating sites. Many had their favorite hadiths and Islamic maxims posted, which helped to flesh out what I was reading in the Quran. Though I had known nothing about Islam before that year, I had peripherally known that those women were oppressed.  They certainly didn’t seem so online. The personal narratives of sisters helped me to envision what it could be like to be a Muslim woman.  Muslim teenagers were the most impressive, these kids were making sites that praised Allah and explained the fundamentals of Islam! May Allah reward those teens whose sites downloaded side-by-side with music-fan sites and other banalities.

I remember one particular evening reading the Quran in yet another newly rented room of my own. I was actually searching through it for something that I might be able to reject; I couldn’t believe that I was becoming religious. I thought about my friend that had gone to Catholic school. Knowing that she took a World Religion class, I had wondered how she could have overlooked this Truth. I remember being mildly annoyed that no-one had pointed it out to me before. How could this be overlooked? Very soon thereafter I started telling a few friends, co-workers and acquaintances that I was thinking about becoming a Muslim. My God, their responses! I have often said that everyone would have been much happier for me if I had chosen to be a lesbian Buddhist.  I couldn’t count how many times people referenced the movie Not Without My Daughter, as if I, a lover of fine film and superior pop-culture, had ever seen a Sally Fields movie. I received advice like “Don’t marry a Muslim and move to his country.” Or people shared their I-knew-a-Muslim-once-experiences with me like “My Muslim drug dealer in India used to give the leftovers to his wife.”  These bright days of my enlightenment had a dark cloud that followed me around. No-one really knew anything specific about Islam, but they all disliked it. I find this same phenomenon today in my small city where most people think that they have never seen a Muslim in-person, but still many don’t like that religion.

A little over a decade ago, I looked for masjids in the phonebook, but couldn’t find one. Today I wonder if I looked under “churches” or just how did I even try to look them up? I remembered the masjid in my old neighborhood was in a run-down Victorian and had looked abandoned. I don’t think I had ever seen anyone coming or going from it. Later I would ask a cab driver if he knew where the masjids were in the city. He told me that after vandals attacked them during the Gulf War, many had removed their signs which made them recognizable as masjids—and targets. This sounded unbelievable to me at the time, Allahualim. Before getting up the courage to ask the cabbie, I had already called The Cousins’ restaurant in New York. I asked the brother what I had to do to be a Muslim. He was so surprised to hear that I wanted to be Muslim; may Allah reward him for his contribution to my conversion, ameen. He told me how to say shahada. I think he was crying.

I’m still working on that post about arrogance and whiteness (you’re excited, eh?) and have found all kinds of interesting things just by googling “anti-racist” and “arrogance.” Here’s a little snippet from last night’s search:

“Bringing white people and people of color together to discuss race can be like placing pre-algebra students in a calculus class. The people of color are often so far ahead of the white people that they would have to slow down in order to let [the white people] catch up. And since “catching up” involves extensive emotional processing, it does not happen quickly. This can be endlessly frustrating to everyone involved, people of color may feel cheated out of their own growth around race while white people may shut down or feel inadequate, scared, and intimidated.” From Perspectives on Urban Education Spring 2009, “Becoming an Anti-Racist White Ally: How a White Affinity Group Can Help.”

But The Mozzies shant be having that problem because we only fear Allah and love nafs controling via self-introspection, right?

BTW, I found this lolcat captioned like this on a blog of a white student who insists white privilege does not exist and was fairly upset that his black professor even suggested it.

We are all equal, with equal opportunities and racism does not exist. White Americans statistically fair better in economic status and even in general employment status because they worked hard for it. Therefore the experience of African Americans and other minorities with lower economic status and higher rates of employment must be because they don’t work as hard—even though we are all equal, they do not exert equal effort. And we all have equal opportunities. And racism does not exist.

What is really being said here is that African Americans and other minorities are not created equal, because their drive is weaker and they are lazy—therefore they are not equal– they are inferior to hard working white people. Or  they don’t have equal opportunities. Or racism, by the way of white privilege/preference does still exist. Which is it?

One of my prompts for topic consideration in the White Privilege and The Ummah Carnival was not well received, actually it was the only topic scoffed. I said:

I admit my word choice there was not stellar. However, the fact is, brace yourself, there does exist (with statistics and research to back it) a generalization for many people of color to distrust whites.  And vice versa. In the prologue of her book Talking to Strangers: Anxieties of Citizenship since Brown v. Board of Education, MacArthur award winner Danielle Allen explains the dynamics of inter-racial distrust and cites a “2002 statistic that says that only 35 percent of Americans think people can be trusted.” And the same statistics cite that “African Americans are even less trusting.” But, what I am really trying to keep the focus on is white Muslim accomplice (residual from jilhaliya), so let’s look at why we may be nontrusting of other Muslims, as well as our own untrustworthy behaviors and how I (and others) see arrogance as related to this issue.

If you are a white Muslim and you don’t hold very many Muslims of color close to your heart, you don’t talk to many other than at the masjid for a couple hours a week, a month or a year–why do you suppose that is? And if Muslims of color are not beating down your door (other than to marry you) to befriend you–why do you suppose that is?

The lovefest that many of us converts thought was going to happen after we said shahahda did not happen. Many of our jilhaliya baggage remains, both individually and culturally. Often, even when we insist that we are free of such baggage–yet can easily see it on other people–there is subtle, unconscious stuff happening that we just don’t know about.

In a cheesy titled article from way back  in pre-Obama 2002, “Why Can’t We Just Get Along? Interpersonal Biases and Interracial Distrust” researchers Dovidio, Gaertner, Kawakami, Kerry, Hudson and Gordon ”examine how interpersonal biases can contribute to these different perspectives [of white Americans and Black Americans] and ultimately to interracial distrust that can undermine race relations.” Their studies and experiments kept the focus on whites’ contribution to the problem, “In particular, we propose that there are four aspects of contemporary prejudices held by Whites toward Blacks in the United States that contribute to the divergence of perceptions and interracial distrust in the United States today.” They also acknowledged that these white prejudices extended beyond blacks to other minorities:

• (a) Contemporary racism among Whites is subtle
• (b) these racial biases are often unintentional and unconscious
• (c) these biases influence the perceptions that Whites and Blacks have of these same behaviors or events, and
• (d) these racial biases have different consequences on the outcomes for Blacks and Whites.

The researchers explain how the subtleties of Aversive Racism play out, and it completely mirrors what we see in the Ummah. Firstly, racism is now illegal in the US, so no (reasonable) person will admit to it, and also white Americans have adopted egalitarian values and therefore believe that they are not a minutia prejudice:

egalitarian {adjective} – asserting, resulting from, or characterized by belief in the equality of all people, esp. in political, economic, or social life.

Sounds like the Muslims right? We say we are all equal (period).

I am one of those folks who grew-up truly believing that racism no longer existed (except for maybe in the south) because that was what I was told by my white parents, mostly white educators and white dominated media. So when I saw and read about racism within the Ummah, I pointed fingers, but not so much at African Americans, more so at born Muslims. Again, the Orientalist in me unconciously reared her head. Those same folks who taught me racism was extinct, also taught me that the Muslim Middle East is inferior to my West.

The study asserts that Whites have “feelings of anxiety and uneasiness” about blacks. Elsewhere I have read that whites can be so fearful of being called ”racist” they simply won’t engage with blacks or other poc, to the point of not looking them in the eye! The Dovidio & Co article explains that:

“Because aversive racists consciously endorse egalitarian values and deny their negative feelings about Blacks, they will not discriminate directly and openly in ways that can be attributed to racism. However, because of their negative feelings, they will discriminate, often unintentionally, when their behavior can be justified on the basis of some factor other than race (e.g., questionable qualifications for a position).”

Again, I ask you, how many Muslims of color do you hold close to your heart? Have over for dinner? Call to check on regularly? Visit while sick? Give salams to? I don’t want to hear that they don’t do it either, we are looking at us. We are supposed to make excuses for others, but making excuses for ourselves is one of the subtle ways aversive racism works:

 ”[Whites'] behavior can be justified on the basis of some factor other than race.”

When I questioned the cut-off point with which to make excuses for my white sisters, I took a little flak for my observation:

“I did notice a pattern amongst a few of my white sisters to say they would do stuff and then “flake.” But really the untrustworthiness runs much deeper than just hypocritical flaking . . . the way I see it as related is that white folks just don’t call each other out for it. They ‘forgive’ each other, but are less ‘forgiving’ of people of color. Generalizations based on my observations, that’s all I got.”

So it may be absolutely unrelated that I have been repeatedly flaked on and had unconsummated invitations extended to me by white sisters, and perhaps nearly everybody does this — repeatedly? And Allhualim what was the intention with each individual instance, but let’s remember why flakiness can be so detrimental:

Sahih Muslim, Book 001, Number 0112:

It is reported on the authority of Abu Huraira that the Messenger of Allah (may peace and blessings be upon him) said: Three are the signs of a hypocrite: when he spoke he told a lie, when he made a promise he acted treacherously against it, when he was trusted he betrayed.

I threw my “flakiness hypothesis” out there after reading Jamerican’s observations on White Privilege and Office Culture:

“True story: At my previous job, I was told during a performance evaluation that my response to requests is often negative. When I asked for an example my supervisor mentioned a time when she asked me to attend a function that was on the other side of town. My husband at the time and I only had one car which he generally used because his job was further away than mine. (My supervisor knew this). Anyhow, when she asked me to attend the function I told her that I would not be able to because I did not have transportation. Apparently, I was supposed to lie and tell her that I would see if I could arrange a ride. Since I didn’t do that my response was considered to be negative. (After some time I noticed that my White co-workers, no matter what they were asked, no matter how difficult, or unrealistic the task was, would smile and say yes or would say they’d try- even if they knew they couldn’t.)”

Jamerican, who is a Jamaican American Muslimah, was perceived as negative when she was being honest. White co-workers were given the benefit of the doubt–repeatedly. This behavior may be elusive and even unconscious to whites, but it is clearly seen by those who actively confront racism, “And this is one of the ways in which I believe privilege functions. White people give other white people the benefit of the doubt, maybe even when it’s not deserved.”

In one of their experiments to test the hypothesis of aversive racism, our researchers (Dovidio & Co.) found that when ”test” job candidates with weak qualifications were reviewed by white “test” employers, the white candidates’ skills were seen as stronger than they really were where as the black candidates skills were seen as weaker. Equal skills, yet the preference was for white.  The researchers describe these results as “Whites may give White candidates the ‘benefit  of the doubt,’ a benefit that is not extended to outgroup members.” This is one of the subtle ways that aversive racism exists, we extend the benefit of the doubt more liberally to our own. Making excuses for a sister is encouraged, but what about that sincere naseeha and wanting for your sisters what you want for yourself? Is hypocrisy and/or injustice what we want for each other?

And do you extend excuses to your siblings of color, or are you extending the wrong kind of excuses to yourself: “However, because of [whites] negative feelings, they will discriminate, often unintentionally, when their behavior can be justified on the basis of some factor other than race (e.g., questionable qualifications for a position)*”(Dovidio).

*My emphasis. So what kind of factors prevent you from extending yourself to Muslims of color? Do you label them rude? Backwards or uncivilized? Uneducated? Belonging to such and such Muslim affiliation and therefore unworthy of Muslim adab (manners)? Or worse, do you have suspicions about an individual based on stereotypes:

Sahih Bukhari, Volume 8, Book 73, Number 90:

Narrated Abu Huraira:

The Prophet said, “Beware of suspicion, for suspicion is the worst of false tales; and do not look for the others’ faults and do not spy, and do not be jealous of one another, and do not desert (cut your relation with) one another, and do not hate one another; and O Allah’s worshipers! Be brothers (as Allah has ordered you!”)

Allen explains the necessity of opening lines of trust to break the cycle of inter-racial distrust:

“Trustworthiness generates trust. Our life is much better when we can and do trust our fellow citizens. If both parties are working to prove themselves trustworthy and to test the trustworthiness of others, then it starts to generate a culture where greater levels of trust are possible.”

Since this is getting epic, I will have to come back to “those arrogant white people,” inshallah. But I hope you come away from this recognizing that if you do carry some of those jilhaliya behaviors, such as wrongfully extending unearned excuses one way but not extending fair excuses another, you will see how that makes you untrustworthy.

Welcome to The White Privilege & the Ummah Carnival: What Does it Mean to You, Them and Us?* *Them is non-Muslims, Us is the Ummah

My intention behind this carnival, for the sake of Allah of course, was to initiate some dialogue about race related issues within the Ummah focusing specifically on white Muslim privilege. Problems stemming from racism, nationalism and privilege within the Ummah are not a secret, except maybe to new converts or newly transplanted Muslims, but in my experience I have only seen very, very little talk about these problems coming from white Muslims–and mostly is has revolved around implicating others. So, inshAllah, I hope that this carnival may be a starting point for white Muslims to begin self-critical affirmative efforts to better ourselves–because that is what we are supposed to do, for the sake of Allah.

Thank you so much to everyone who has contributed, in my experience, this has been educational–but not fun. I really appreciate the thoughtful work of the folks below, they have given much to consider. I will add new entries to this post as they are sent in, please let me know in the comments if you have a post to add.

Please respect each other and fear Allah.

Lucky Fatima demonstrates the numerous ways that white privilege continues to permeate her life and even flourishes in Muslim settings. “We see Ourselves and other whites as unique individuals, but we see native Muslims as part of Their cultures and blame any contentions we have with them on cultural deficits. This is a very deep issue with white privilege.” Everything I say is to myself: Some thoughts on white privilege in the Ummah for Brooke’s Carnival (Added June 4th)

Safiyya of Shaalom 2 Salaam presents her unique perspective of converting to Islam from Judaism–she may look white, but looks aren’t everything. ”When I become a Muslim, I thought the anti-semitism and racism would not exist. I was naive.” The White Privilege and The Ummah Carnival: What Does it Mean to You, Them and Us?

Safiya of Outlines reveals the disadvantages of being the sought-after White sister and acknowledges the necessity to reject elusive cultural norms, “The concept of White superiority is alien to Islam, in fact it’s haraam and so it is one that White Muslims must work very hard to shed, without seeking any reward.” Being Muslim While White Privileged also, check out her carnival: Celebrating Muslim Motherhood

Yusuf of Indigo Jo Blogs takes a broad look at the intricacies of race, culture and privileges within the UK  Ummah, and the problem of “whititude.” “[Whititude] describes the attitude that [white Muslims] have a certain enlightenment that is lacking in the established Muslim community.” White Privilege and the White Convert

Ginny’s Thoughts & Things Unpacking a different kind of bag, Ginny expounds upon the complexities of confronting privilege while faced with discrimination and overt ableism. “All I can tell you is what it’s like to be a blind white Muslim who benefits from white privilege but doesn’t always understand how.” Hesitant Thoughts on White Privilege

Hajar of Tales From An American Nomad  chronicles her evolving examination of privilege and isms, “I don’t want my children’s views to be skewed by that subtle, yet oppressive sense of meritless entitlement that comes with the oppressors’ mind-set.” De Facto White Privilege and a poem too! The Whipping Girl

Krista of Muslimah Media Watch calls out western (especially white) sisters for upholding supremist idealogies, it’s still us vs. them. “Whiteness and Western identities are reinforced as superior and above the problems that are found in cultures deemed foreign, rigid and violent.”  Unpacking the “Culture” Argument 

Bin Gregory Productions looks at what being “white” is and how that transfers into American subcultures, such as converting to Islam. He also gives a guy’s perspective of white male Muslim privilege.”White privilege and institutionalized racism are a tremendous negative force in American society … But it still doesn’t transform white-skinned people into a People called White in any meaningful or positive way.” Oh Man, White Muslims Again

Sabiwabi of Oy, Habibti details the stereotypes and stigmas that many white Muslims face within their communities. “ Please don’t ask me more than once where I am from or ask for some sort of proof or tell me that I could be your cousins’ sisters’ niece from Turkey because she looks exactly like me.”  White Muslim, Sounding Off

Me of Here turned the finger inward to see how my privilege works within the Ummah. “For me, addressing my own white privilege is a necessary step to further remove myself from the residual behaviors of my jilhaliya.” A Residue Remains: Using White Privilege in The Ummah and Inter-Racial Distrust and The White Muslim

Umar Lee AKA/ The Brother You Want to Shut up (who is used to getting flack for sharing his perspectives), addresses white Muslims’ avoidance of critical introspection. “I believe that white is based on what you are not and not on what you are and someone who lives a life according to the sunnah is one of those things you cannot be.” More on Whiteness and Islam Debate

Nzingha’s Soapbox demonstrates the ways that her privilege fluctuates as an American Muslim back home and in the lands of the Muslims. “My white privilege is put into question in the US because I am a convert to Islam, but than because I am a convert it is more meaningful in the ME especially since I am white.”  I’m a White American Girl