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Are you Muslim is a seemingly uncomplicated question
I’ve often been asked by friendly Muslims I’ve just met. I haven’t
always been certain of how to answer. Usually, I respond with
something like, “Well, sort of. I am not religious, but I identify
with some aspects of the culture and politics.” My response raises
more questions than it answers.
What makes this question about identity so complicated
for me? As a feminist, I had long ago assumed that there wasn’t any
place within organized religion for me. Coming out as a dyke further
distanced me from Islam. And yet, I was born Muslim and raised within
its culture. I’ve wondered whether I could be both queer and Muslim,
and if I could, did I want to be?
I brought these questions to the Salaam Canada/Al-Fatiha
International Queer Muslim Conference held this past June at the 519
in Toronto, organized by Salaam Toronto. Salaam Toronto is a queer
Muslim community dedicated to providing support to lesbian, gay, bi,
transgender, transsexual and questioning Muslims. 150 participants
came to the conference to talk about the theme “Liberating Tradition,
Celebrating Culture”. Among them were Muslims and non-Muslims,
believers and atheists, queers and non-queers, white people and people
of colour. The discussions were approached from many angles: culture,
faith, and politics. For the first time ever, I felt very much at home
within an Islamic gathering.
On each day the participants were invited to pray
together. With some anxiety, I decided to attend the Friday prayers. I
have never been religious and have generally felt awkward and out of
place in these kinds of situations. Religion to me has generally meant
gender segregation, somber rituals and seriousness. Never has it been
fun or comfortable. I immediately felt at ease by Ghazala Anwar, a
feminist theologian, who led the prayers. While giving the sermon, she
cracked jokes and I actually enjoyed myself and found her words
meaningful. She spoke about social justice and the need for people to
come together in faith. Also, there was no gender segregation. In
fact, it was so crowded in that airless prayer room that male, female
and trans people prayed hip to hip, all of us moving in unison, almost
like one large body. It didn’t matter that the room was cramped and
hot, or that we were in Room 23 at the 519 instead of in a mosque. The
spirit of community surged strongly through the room.
I asked some women conference attendees to tell me
their thoughts about Salaam and what it means to be a queer Muslim.
It’s never really been a question that I’ve considered
because I’ve always identified as a Muslim. When I began to discover
that I was queer it did not seem to cancel out the other part of
me...being queer and Muslim are not mutually exclusive of eachother. I
think they fit together perfectly. As the Prophet Mohammed said, “As
there are many breaths that humans breathe, that’s as many ways there
are to get to Allah.” To me that speaks of the diversity of the human
race and not just about the diversity of human spiritual practice. It
speaks of the diversity of race, language, religion, class and the
diversity of sexual practice and sexuality. I believe that sexuality
is the core of the human psyche and so is spirituality. The two are
really quite intertwined in a fundamental way. - Amina
Salaam is my family where I am complete, the only place
I am absolutely comfortable being who I am, a lesbian follower of
Islam. Salaam reinforces my belief in Allah, that God is love, and
obviously accepts us all and uses each of us to help others to grow
into more compassionate beings. I was born lesbian and chose to follow
my heart and became a Muslim. Both are minority stations in Canada,
both subject to discrimination. There is an internal movement
occurring within Islam, a reformation called Progressive Islam, and it
is where I live now. I know I am acceptable to God, to my social
community, and to my spiritual community. – Jemila Jo
Salaam provides a voice for women, a progressive voice
about Islam. I feel that I’m making a difference by being a part of it
because we don’t hear enough liberal or progressive voices in Islam. I
also find it important to be part of a group with people of similar
backgrounds discussing these issues. It’s empowering...As a queer
Muslim, my belief is that God loves all of his creation. Prayer is
somewhat important to me, but what is the most important is to treat
all people with respect and to provide service to humanity. - Shahine
My participation at the Salaam Canada/Al-Fatiha
Conference hasn’t made answering, “Are you Muslim?” too much easier.
But this isn’t the question preoccupying me any more. Instead, I find
myself reflecting on these: What’s the role of queers within Islam?
Can we be the transformative force that Islam needs? What has become
clear to me is the importance of being a part of an inclusive queer
Muslim community like Salaam. I’m hoping that this forum can provide a
fertile ground for my questions and that together, we can find the
answers and strategies our queer Muslim community needs.
Farzana Doctor is a Toronto-based social worker and writer, and is a
member of Salaam Toronto.
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