REVIEW: Beyond Sacred: Voices of Muslim Identity Ping Chong

Ping Chong + Company spend hours interviewing volunteers for their “undesirable elements” series. For Beyond Sacred, they chose 5 Muslim New Yorkers.

All five of these individuals came to the stage, sat down, and began reading autiobiographical scripts.

We heard from Tiffany Yasmin Abdelghani, a woman whose Muslim father stopped practicing and when prompted about the faith told her “I don’t do that anymore.” Lost for many years, she sought out Islam on her own and chose to convert and wear the hijab.

Ferdous Dehqan emigrated from Afghanistan to escape the destruction caused by the Taliban as it swept through the country. He expressed his frustration at people when they see him and assume he is a terrorist, when he hates the Taliban just as much, if not more the average American.

Kadin Herring brought with him the perspective of a young, African-American queer man. Not only does he have to contend with anti-immigrant and questions about his faith and allegiance to his country, but he also has to face the daily struggles of being a black man in the United States.

Amir Khafagy described his upbringing caught somewhere between Arab and Puerto Rican culture, as well as his experiences with class struggles.

Maya Syed told us about her path to becoming a human rights and gender equity advocate, from volunteering for the Peace Corps in the Dominican Republic to helping immigrants understand their rights in New York.

Beyond Sacred was different from any other play I had experienced before because it involved real people telling real stories–no actors and no fabricated scripts.

The overall message from the night was something along the lines of “minorities are regular people too.” All of the actors expressed frustration at constantly being asked questions about Islam or terrorism, and about all the looks they receive from people on a daily basis.

Furthermore, the actors explained how they felt they had to act as model Muslims as a way of overcompensating for the perceived violent nature of Muslims by much of the world. Lumping all Islamic cultures together is also ridiculous, they added, pointing out that Indonesia is nothing like Saudi Arabia, which is nothing like North Sudan.

After attending an event like this, I wondered what it would have been like hearing professional actors read the same scripts. I have to admit that I think professional actors would have done better, and made for a more moving performance. Instead, I left the event feeling like something was missing. A little over an hour was all we had to hear the stories of five complex people. How could that ever be enough time?

I wish I could’ve recorded the performance. Luckily, here’s a link to a brief audio snippet.

 

REVIEW: Hijabi Monologues

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A woman sings “Hallelujah” while her friend plays guitar.
A freshman tells the stories of her grandfather’s past love, her mother’s past love, as well as her own experiences with love.
A woman from Malaysia recounts her experiences working in a male-dominated corporation.
A U-M alum shares her story of depression.

These women, and many more, shared various aspects of their life this past Friday night in the Rackham Ampitheatre. Although their backgrounds were diverse, these women shared the identity of being Muslim women who practiced the hijab: a modest lifestyle that includes wearing the veil.

Halfway Hijabi: Hijabi Monologues was a safe space created by sophomores Fatima Haidar and Alyiah Al-Bonijim. These students felt the tension towards Muslims after last year’s election and felt that Muslims, particularly hijabis, needed a space to showcase who they are. This would allow Muslim women to be seen in another light, rather than have the media paint a picture of Muslims for Americans. What Fatima and Alyiah thought to be a small get-together, however, was anything but.

I arrived twenty minutes before seven and found a seat in the third row of the theatre. People trickled in as I made small talk with those around me, but by 7:15PM the room was packed: doors were blocked by a wall of students while others sat on the floor of the stage. Attendees included Muslims and non-Muslims and people of various ethnic backgrounds. After several complaints from security, everyone finally settled in and the monologues began.

Each hijabi—a Muslim woman who practices the hijab—who presented in the safe space had something unique about them that they shared with the audience. Students were moved to tears when U-M alum Dana sang “Hallelujah.” The room was filled with laughter as Malaysian student Anati shared comical moments of her life, of why she decided to practice the hijab. For each story, the audience gave a roaring applause for the courage that the hijabis presented when they were on the stage.

Shortly after the monologues was dessert, where presenters and audience members got to sit together and converse while eating sweets. New friends were made that night, and I was no exception to that.
I was glad to have been able to go to this event last Friday, to listen to the stories of such wonderful people, and would definitely stay on the lookout for more safe space events to come!

 

 

REVIEW: Hijabi Monologues

Twenty minutes before the event started, the 4th floor Rackham Auditorium was already packed. Students, friends, family, and curious people filled the seats, the stairs, the walls, and the walkways. Organizers had to repeatedly clear the overflowing doorways, and we we were repeatedly warned that if any more audience members came, it would be a fire hazard and Rackham would have to shut the event down. Both sophomore event organizers, Alyiah and Fatima, introduced Halfway Hijabi as an event for Muslim women who wore hijabs (headscarves) to “reclaim our voices and our space rather than having others speak on our behalf.”

To create a safe space, photographs and video recording by audience members was not allowed. All that really mattered, however, were the words that flowed out of these powerful, well-spoken women.

The first of many female performers read an essay speaking of themes that would become a common thread throughout the night. Anger and humiliation at being forcibly strip searched at an airport because she had a metal leg brace. Comments like “you look like you came out of Iraq” and “This is America sweetheart–you can take that [the hijab] off now.” She ended with the words “I do not allow the hijab to limit me, so why do you?”

Another performer talked of women reclaiming the American flag from a symbol of oppression to a symbol of pride by wearing the design on headscarves.

Most of the performers were students, and they pointed out how often they walk into a room and find that they are the only hijabi, and having to represent the entire Muslim population.

Although many of the performances were raw and heartbreaking, a few of the women lightened the mood. One international student from Malaysia read a short speech regarding her reasons for wearing her hijab, and comparing what it was like to wear one in Malaysia versus the US. She concluded that “I was told that God wants me to wear hijab and actually I’m okay with that” and then hilariously quoted Miley Cyrus when she said “only God can judge us.”

The one musical piece of the night was naturally one of the saddest songs ever created: a rendition of Leonard Cohen/Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah. It was not only beautifully sung, but also refreshing to hear it sung in this context.

My only regret about the event is that it wasn’t in Rackham’s larger auditorium. The Hijabi Monologues is the kind of event that should be shown to as many students as possible, because much of the hate and rudeness that these women experienced comes from ignorance.