No. Don’t laugh. See I have to
be funny.
Because humor is a defense mechanism used by those that are afraid or
seen as threatening.
So as long as this cloth is associated with deep terror I’ll keep you
laughing.
But don’t.
Because the situation is real.
And no matter how many jokes I spit out
it doesn’t make up for the propaganda associated with this faith,
Or the oppression,
the oppression,
the oppression
that so many of us feel.
Yes. I am beautiful.
Because what you can see
has to be pretty.
Because it almost makes up for the fact that more of me is covered
and the dimples distract just for a moment from the fact that whatever
you see Maryam do isn’t just how SHE like to act
it’s…that.
That religion. That Islam.
That covered up, “random search”, sniff dog, maybe bomb.
Loudly peaceful but possibly pre-determined, anti-this, maybe threat.
Maybe Scary. Maybe stiff.
Maybe not tell joke, maybe not get it.
Maybe not ask questions, maybe too serious.
Maybe too meek.
Maybe…one of them.
Maybe not type-cast. Maybe honestly just who I AM.
See. I have to be outspoken through the pen.
Because if I fight back, it would satisfy all of them.
And I have to be successful.
Because if it ain’t a plane, headwrap, beanpie,
or straps of 2-methyl,1,3,5-Trinitrobenzene to the chest
I’m not even halfway expected to achieve ANY type of s-u-c-c-e-s-s.
And I don’t expect half of you to understand.
Because before you hear my jokes, before you see me smile,
you’ve already given me a label.
I’m either rabid wolf, or…lamb.
And honestly, even if the whole world woke up tomorrow.
If some people dropped the hate-framed glasses.
If FOX News happened to get
they heads out they *sses,
this is still the situation I would expect.
Body armor over heart on sleeves, before showing inner beauty to
Maybe hatred. Maybe prejudice.
Maybe not like. Maybe not understand.
Maybe I’m already dismissed because of my faith
before having a chance to extend MY helping hand.
Maybe no hope for changing cemented minds.
Venomous tongues and eyes covered with wool.
D*mn.
But see I can’t help but hope.
I can’t help but to smile.
Laugh out loud.
Match my hijab with my outfit and rock that mess with uniquely Maryam
swag.
I was born to bear this situation.
Grace under fire because God don’t make no mistakes
and He will never, never, God will never run out of grace.
So as long as there is breathe in my body.
Life in my bones.
I will be boldly peaceful.
Work to build titanium bridges and tear down shields
because that terror that they pretend they feel
isn’t half of the incessant fear you feel
when constantly afraid of being judged.
So I choose not to be afraid.
I choose to use my style.
Use my laughter, my smile, my service.
Use my whole self to labor for
true understanding, friendship, for peace.
I choose not to accept hate.
I choose to spread love.
