Given a chance to experience something in a new way, to act in solidarity with my Muslim sisters, and to possibly educate the inquisitive with my (newly informed) responses to their questions, why would I not embrace such an opportunity?

My day in Hijab wasn't so very different from any other day.,”

A friend asked me why I chose to participate in Hijab for a Day. The question for me, though, was: Why wouldn't I? Hijab, the head scarf worn by many Muslim women, is something nearly everyone harbors some assumptions about, but very few know from the inside – and I was being invited inside!

Given a chance to experience something in a new way, to act in solidarity with my Muslim sisters and to possibly educate the inquisitive with my (newly-informed) responses to their questions, why would I not embrace such an opportunity?

My day in hijab wasn't so very different from any other day. I felt slightly, but not terribly, conspicuous. I didn't feel stares (a handful of surreptitious glances and double-takes, but neither prolonged gazes nor hostile looks). Only a very few people asked me about it, so I only gave a few explanations. The scarf was not physically uncomfortable or restrictive, and mine was so light that I could easily forget I was wearing it until I felt its gentle tug where it was pinned or its soft touch under my chin. My heightened awareness of the nonverbal responses of those around me probably made more of a difference than any actual change in their behavior.

The Outspoken discussion that evening was where my subtle experience began to take shape and acquire greater meaning for me as I listened to the stories of the other women who participated. We shared our experiences, we questioned and answered, we nodded, we laughed, we identified. And that's when I became aware of a shift in my perception and a revision of my attitude.

I had for some time felt that hijab as a cultural practice originated in a view of women as weak or delicate and in need of protection from men's prying, desiring eyes. When I encountered women in hijab, I confess I felt a kind of sympathy for them, that their culture, family or religious community made them feel compelled to hide themselves. That was before.

The hijabi women who shared their experiences at the Outspoken Thursday are anything but weak, and from their testimony (and that of the Muslim man present) they are not viewed as such by the fathers, brothers and male friends in their lives. All the Muslim participants in the discussion stressed the importance of the woman's free, individual choice to wear hijab, and several who regularly wear it reported that the decision to do so involved a significant level of personal commitment and a feeling of readiness for that step.

For these women it was indeed a choice, not a sign of succumbing to social pressure. The women I met are confident in their individual worth and assertive of their free will, and those who wear hijab are proud to do so. While I'm sure hijab, like any religious doctrine or practice, can be misused to oppress, I can now appreciate the proper use of hijab as a voluntary mark of spiritual commitment, cultural pride and self-respect.

Williams is a graduate student in the College of Arts & Sciences.

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