I can feel the eyes. They can be furtive glances, so quick that they may go undetected. Or they can be two spears of solid ice, piercing into my very core. But I feel them. Do they really have to stare so much… it’s not as if I have some kind of physical aberration. I’m five foot eight, with a wiry frame, and light skin. My eyes are brown, my nose is pointy, and my lips are pink. I wear clothes bought from the local department store, sometimes with a gold necklace I got from my mother. But my hair is covered by a scarf. So that’s what it is. Is this piece of fabric really the cause for so much scrutiny? Does it conjure negative images of oppression and violence? Does it hurt to look at? It hurts me when a woman pulls her children closer to her when I walk by. It hurts when fingers point in my direction. It hurts when insults are hurled at my ears. I can still feel the eyes.“I can feel the eyes.”
“Look at her… she’s one of them.”
“You don’t have to wear that- you’re in America now.”
“Go back to your country”
“It’s just so backwards”
Look beyond the piece of cloth, look into my soul. See what makes me who I am. It’s not to please a man or some far off culture across the oceans. It’s not because I’m ashamed of my hair or body. These things do not dictate my every waking moment. Look into my soul. My soul that makes me a distinct individual, that nobody can claim but me. This is what guides me, the permanence of the soul, even after bodies decompose into nonexistence. Conforming to the idea that I am here to stimulate the senses of others is what I reject. I reject that happiness can be found in surgery, artificial tans, or crash diets. I reject that my body parts are public property, to be assessed like produce at the market. I embrace modesty and self respect, integrity, and introspection. I embrace that my mind and my body belong to me and only me. I embrace the sacred beauty of life itself. Look at me as I am. Take me for what I am.
“Look into my soul.”
”My body is my own property.”
“This is who I am.”
“It brings me peace.”
1 comment:
I can't explain why people have such a problem with accepting differences. Diversity is beauty. A piece of cloth on a woman's head means nothing when it comes down to it. The world judges where they have no place to judge. I am ashamed to say it, but the people of my faith, Christians, have the same problem and don't even notice it. I do it to. Please understand, not everyone looks skin deep. Some of us look to the soul. We see beauty in the soul and what the soul was created for... love.
Joshua
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