College Street
Unveiling the Hijab
On an otherwise normal late-February evening, an article of clothing that has aroused passions among people and governments around the globe took center stage in a crowded Rohatyn Center conference room, its meaning embodied and expressed by three young Middlebury women who have confronted a key element of their identities at a young age.
Photograph by Brett Simison
For more than two hours, sophomore Hafsa Ahmad and first-year students Mariam Boxwala and Mahnaz Rezaie spoke openly—and with great maturity and global perspective—to a packed room of community members about their experiences wearing the hijab, the traditional veil worn by many Muslim women.
An Arabic word that refers to the type of head covering traditionally worn by Muslim women, hijab can also indicate the modest Muslim styles of dress. There seem to be as many understandings of the hijab as there are women who wear it, and these three were no exception.
Hafsa began by acknowledging what was obvious to all—that she was the only one of the three panelists not wearing the hijab. She explained that she had recently stopped wearing it for a host of reasons, none of which had to do with a dwindling of her faith, but that would become clearer as she spoke. Hafsa first donned the hijab after 9/11, when many Muslims in her central New Jersey hometown were removing their religious garments or shaving their traditional beards out of fear.
With the uninhibited precocity of a bright-eyed sixth-grader, Hafsa saw her decision as a cultural rite of passage and a chance to celebrate a part of who she was. “It seemed like something every Muslim should be doing—especially then. I wanted to show my faith, regardless of the slurs and vandalism that might come with it.” She eventually stopped wearing the hijab as her departure for college neared. “Wearing it for those seven years certainly taught me to be stronger because I had to find ways to deal with the prejudice and backlash. But I began to struggle with who I was outside of the hijab, and I wanted to explore that.”
When Mariam spoke about growing up in Canada and northern Vermont, she emphasized that the hijab could mean something different to every woman, but more often than not it could cause controversy. “Some of the strongest criticism I got when I began wearing the hijab at age 13 was from my own Muslim community,” she said. Because she is an Indian Muslim, her style of dress has different customs—she is allowed to show her hair, for example—and many of her Muslim friends who were unfamiliar with her sect would call her immodest for not covering her bangs.
Mahnaz, an international student from Kabul, Afghanistan, recalled that she took great pride when she began wearing it at age nine. “The Koran states clearly that you should not display your beauty,” she said. “And my hair is part of my beauty.” Upon coming to Middlebury, some back home suggested that she didn’t need to wear her hijab in the States. “But I value the respect and confidence it brings me,” she explained. “It is my faith; I believe in it. To change that would break me.”
All the panelists noted that the hijab had provided a sense of freedom on many levels—from ever-changing fashion trends, from the eyes of men, from the burden of being judged by one’s looks rather than one’s words.
Asked how her life had changed when she began wearing the hijab, Mariam said simply, “It was harder to ride a bike.” After the laughter subsided she added, “It’s part of my identity, it always has been, but it’s not the only part.”
“For such a simple piece of cloth,” Hafsa agreed, “it’s very complex.”
—Blair Kloman
