Western Teenage Girl
By Sultana Yusufali (a 17-year-old high school student)
Published in Toronto Star Young People’s Press
An insightful and personal account of why a Western teenage girl would reject
the 'wonders' of fashion, and want to cover herself in the hijab (veil).
I probably do not fit into the preconceived notion of a “rebel”. I have no
visible tattoos and minimal piercing. I do not possess a leather jacket. In
fact, when most people look at me, their first thought usually is something
along the lines of “oppressed female”. The brave individuals who have mustered
the courage to ask me about the way I dress usually have questions like: “Do
your parents make you wear that?” or “Don’t you find that really unfair?”
A while back, a couple of girls in Montreal were kicked out of school for
dressing like I do. It seems strange that a little piece of cloth would make
for such a controversy. Perhaps the fear is that I am harboring an Uzi machine
gun underneath it! Of course, the issue at hand is more than a mere piece of
cloth. I am a Muslim woman who, like millions of other Muslim women across the
globe, chooses to wear a hijab. And the concept of the hijab, contrary to
popular opinion, is actually one of the most fundamental aspects of female
empowerment. When I cover myself, I make it virtually impossible for people to
judge me according to the way I look. I cannot be categorized because of my
attractiveness or lack thereof. Compare this to life in today’s society: We are
constantly sizing one another up on the basis of our clothing, jewelry, hair
and makeup. What kind of depth can there be in a world like this?
Yes, I have a body, a physical manifestation upon this Earth. But it is the
vessel of an intelligent mind and a strong spirit. It is not for the beholder
to leer at or to use in advertisements to sell everything from beer to cars.
Because of the superficiality of the world in which we live, external
appearances are so stressed that the value of the individual counts for almost
nothing. It is a myth that women in today’s society are liberated. What kind of
freedom can there be when a woman cannot walk down the street without every
aspect of her physical self being “checked out”? When I wear the hijab I feel
safe from all of this. I can rest assured that no one is looking at me and
making assumptions about my character from the length of my skirt. There is a
barrier between me and those who would exploit me.
I am first and foremost a human being, one of the saddest truths of our time is
the question of the beauty myth and female self-image. Reading popular teenage
magazines, you can instantly find out what kind of body image is “in” or “out”
. And if you have the “wrong” body type, well, then, you’re just going to
change it, aren’t you? After all, there is no way you can be overweight and
still be beautiful. Look at any advertisement. Is a woman being used to sell
the product? How old is she? How attractive is she? What is she wearing? More
often than not, that woman will be no older than her early 20s, taller,
slimmer, and more attractive than average, and dressed in skimpy clothing. Why
do we allow ourselves to be manipulated like this? Whether the 90s woman wishes
to believe it or not, she is being forced into a mould. She is being coerced
into selling herself, into compromising herself. This is why we have
13-year-old girls sticking their
fingers down their throats to vomit and overweight adolescents hanging
themselves.
When people ask me if I feel oppressed, I can honestly say no. I made this
decision of my own free will. I like the fact that I am taking control of the
way other people perceive me. I enjoy the fact that I don’t give anyone
anything to look at and that I have released myself from the bondage of the
swinging pendulum of the fashion industry and other institutions that exploit
females. My body is my own business. Nobody can tell me how I should look or
whether or not I am beautiful. I know that there is more to me than that. I am
also able to say no comfortably when people ask me if I feel as if my sexuality
is being repressed. I have taken control of my sexuality. I am thankful I will
never have to suffer the fate of trying to lose / gain weight or trying to find
the exact lipstick shade that will go with my skin colour. I have made choices
about what my priorities are and these are not among them.
So next time you see me, don’t look at me sympathetically. I am not under
duress or a male-worshiping female captive from those barbarous Arab deserts.
I’ve been liberated!
