In January 2018, I signed up to work as a substitute teacher at a public school in Columbus, Ohio. When I showed up, I was wearing what I thought was professional attire for a school teacher, including a long-sleeved shirt and dress pants. I was also wearing my hijab, which is a Symbol of my faith and tradition. In the Muslim community. When I arrived, the principal saw me and immediately frowned at my appearance and the hijab on my head. She then informed me that it would be my first and last day at school before I left for my classroom.
As I walked through the school hallways with the classroom assistant, I asked her what she thought about the principal’s decision to cancel my placement. She said that I looked too different and that the students wouldn’t accept me. It was then that I also noticed that almost all of the staff and students were white. This situation disheartened me and I couldn’t shake the feeling that my appearance, and perhaps my Muslim expression, had affected her decision.
That incident was a clear introduction to the challenges I face. As a Muslim woman and wearing a hijab in a predominantly white school. hijab and what it represents in Islam is often misunderstood and unfairly stereotyped.Still, despite these challenges, I believe my story is important, not only to create a better understanding of Muslim culture and the identity of Muslim women, but also to build a more welcoming educational environment for Muslim educators and students.
A lasting impression
The experience of being fired from my first teaching job was certainly a traumatic experience, one that I later learned would be a common and systemic experience I would have due to my Muslim identity.
Once I was fired from my job as a substitute teacher, I decided to accept another two-month teaching position at a government educational institution. Once again, I was met with apprehensive and unpleasant glances. One staff member asked me, “Did your father force you to cover up?” Another student even asked me if I was hiding a burn or a bald head under my hijab.
Then, in 2019, when I became the lead Arabic teacher at my current school, I attended my first professional development conference. Much like my first teaching experience as a substitute teacher, I was surrounded by a room full of white educators, and once again, I was the only person wearing a hijab—that is, until another teacher, an African American woman, approached me and whispered that she was an American Muslim. She told me that she was Muslim like me, and although she wears a hijab in her daily work, she decided to take it off for the conference out of fear of not fitting in. Her decision highlighted the pressure and Muslims often experience a sense of otherness: to be accepted they must fit in, even at a conference that supposedly promotes diversity and inclusion.
Even in my current teaching position, working at a school where 90 percent of students identify as Muslim, I still see the divide. Even though the student body is diverse, social interactions are often segregated, and during record days and professional development workshops, Muslim students and white American students often sit separately. An educational assistant once told me that she was offended by my hijab and thought it was disrespectful to her religious choices. When I shared my thoughts and why I wear it, I explained that the hijab is part of an islamic philosophy where women cover their hair and wear modest clothing to be valued for their intelligence rather than their appearance.
As a teacher, I witness the effects of these prejudices on my students. Many of my female students They fear how they will be perceived Outside our schools. In this regard, one of my students told me that he is lucky to be able to hide his identity as a Muslim, but his sisters cannot do so because, like me, they wear the hijab at school and during classes.
After this experience, I felt an overwhelming sense of Islamophobia and racism. As student bodies become more demographically diverse and schools experience a Increase in anti-Muslim hateIt is clear that these prejudices still exist and are a daily challenge that Muslim students and educators must face.
As someone who has been portrayed negatively as an educator, I feel compelled to openly share my voice and reveal the struggles of being marginalized, in the hopes that schools, particularly those that are majority white and non-Muslim, can begin to see us as humans and not as a stereotype.
Humanizing the hijab
These examples from parents, teachers, and students not only revealed their lack of understanding of Islamic culture, but also underscored the importance of explaining and dismantling these stereotypes within my own school. Fortunately, my experiences in various educational institutions have influenced my development, but they have not changed my core identity, my aspirations, or the person I try to present to my students. Because of this, I took it upon myself to proudly and unashamedly wear my hijab to humanize my experience so that my students, peers, and school leaders could learn what it means to be a Muslim student or educator in these institutions.
Even though the media portrays Muslim women as oppressed, I always engage in conversations with my colleagues to correct these misconceptions. I started by organizing cultural awareness sessions at my school during training days, where I shared my personal stories and the meaning of the hijab. Afterwards, I created a mentoring collaboration with the high school girls to record and talk about their identity through Flipgrid Virtual Classroom Program Supporting Muslim students and helping them feel more confident about their identity. I also initiated open dialogues with students and staff through the Arabic Teaching Conversation Club to discuss diversity and inclusion.
In addition to developing these initiatives, I have found strength in connecting with other educators who understand the complexities of being a minority teacher in public schools, both within and outside the Muslim community. I have collaborated with other educators to develop inclusive curricula that reflect diverse cultures and perspectives. I have also advocated for policy changes within the school to ensure that Muslim students’ religious practices are respected, such as accommodating prayer times and allowing them to wear religious attire.
These relationships have been instrumental in sustaining my advocacy efforts; by participating in these efforts, I strive to create an educational landscape where every student and educator feels valued and respected.
The journey continues
My journey as a Muslim teacher in a predominantly white school has been challenging, but oddly enough, deeply rewarding. Although I have only been teaching for five years, I would like to believe that my experiences have not only fostered a greater understanding of Muslim culture and identity, but have also challenged the misconceptions and realities that Muslim women face.
My decision to wear hijab is a testament to my identity, my faith, and my resilience, and not a stereotype to be internalized at the expense of Muslim students and staff. As educators, we are responsible for embracing diversity wholeheartedly and supporting one another in our mission to educate and inspire.
By amplifying diverse voices and promoting dialogue, we can break down barriers, celebrate differences, and foster an environment where every student and educator feels valued and respected.
