On privacy, blogs, and social networking sites

Posted in Race in Muslim Societies, social networking sites, teaching, Travel, Writing by

I am sure there are a few voyeuristic readers hoping for details of my personal life and travels in my blog. I may have a bit of a flamboyant side and can easily recognize my own extroverted personality. But I’m not an exhibitionist. I say this even though I got sucked into the world of myspace and facebook. Oh, and before that, blackplanet (how wack was that site?) There was a recent psychological study about this generation being more narcissistic. The article pointed to websites like myspace and facebook encourage you to be so. But the sad thing is that those social networking sites are made for disconnected people who suffer from lonliness and isolation. But often, people who spend hours on those sites close themselves off from real relationships with people right next to them. In an effort to feel unique and special, people post very personal information. The information ranges from your hobbies, interests, activities and affiliations, your favorite books, movies, classes, where you live, where you have traveled, your relationship status, your opinion, and your amazing circle of “friends.”

I especially find it annoying when the buddies post personal messages like this , “Salaams, Hey, it was so great that I finally got to meet you. We had so much fun with you hanging out at yadda yadda’s house! Joe Blow says hi. Love you! Your sis for reals” on the message board. Now, they know the message board was public. But the message board on myspace and the facebook wall are meant to let everyone else know that you are friends. I found it annoying when people had 1000+ friends on myspace. I always felt like there should have been 6 degrees of sepearation, like “Shared interest,” “A web associate of a friend of a friend,” “A person I added because I think they are kinda hot,” “Page with some remotely interesting content”, etc.

At first, I didn’t have much privacy settings on myspace. Slowly over time, I tightened my settings. I didn’t want any more lame artists trying to add me. I didn’t want to add half naked guys without shirts showing off their abs. Nor did I want half naked women, even though I was suprised to find friends from highschool dressed provocatively. They were models, of some sort. At first, I didn’t make my site private because I had a blog with, what I felt were, important things to say.. Then, I got to know a slightly disturbed young woman. She showed me how women can obsess about myspace. For some women it was an investigation tool. Some try to detail your circle of friends and “intimates” on the page. Or, it was a way that some people used to check up on someone they don’t have the courage to call or write. When I took down all my personal information and pictures from myspace people asked me why. Others understood the weirdness that myspace helped encourage. There were times I only went on myspace to read two powerful blogs, one by a brother who goes by the psuedonym “Dan Freeman” and Kali Tal. But still, I’d run into madness.

Over the past few years, facebook seemed like it was largely immune to many of the social-networking-site-illnesses that were endemic to myspace. Facebook began as a college networking site. And it was limited to a few good schools. And you could only join if you had an email account from one of the schools. It was a nice way to keep up with those who graduated and lost their student email accounts. We all were students and grad students, attended similar events and posted pictures of our volunteer organization activities and campus social gatherings. We also posted up pictures of our families, travels, and other personal pics. Then, it began to open up to the whole world. Now, people can google your name and find your facebook page. Scary, because that means that your professional and academic network can be subject to the same stalker’s scrutiny. I have to make sure I up my security and take down my personal pics. It is not something I want to share with the whole world, let alone my undergrad students.

For me blogging has raised a number of similar important issues. I have shifted my focus away from writing about my personal life. Numerous people have told me that I should write a memoir. As a creative writer, I’d prefer to write fictional accounts of some events of my life (but I’m not going to write anything until I push out this dissertation so that’s a long ways away). I really want to respect the privacy of the people I care and have cared about at one point in my life. Even though you can find out some general things that I’m into and doing in this blog, it is not a diary. I hope it doesn’t come off as a pity party either. I definitely don’t intend my blog to substitute for personal interactions with interesting people. But on the top of my list, I really hope my blog does not invite stalkers or people trolling for personal details of my life. But, the blog world does sort of invite that. And I’ve spent a great deal of time reflecting on this issue. I write details of my life as they come up and are relevant to the social issues that I’m exploring. My blog entries are not articles, nor are they essays. Nor are they polished writing (if I have ever achieved that in my entire life). My blog is also not a newsblog nor is it full of political commentary. I’m not interested in quantity, although I have read that the most popular bloggers post something everyday. I’m not interested in popularity either. I have written earlier about why I write . Some say my blog is provocative, but I don’t write in order to provoke people or agitate them.

Clearly, this blog is not solipsistic. I enjoy feedback. Much of it has pushed me to think. And in some ways this blog fulfills a basic need we all have, to be known and understood. But while I have a tolerance for some aspects of myself to be known by the public, I also value my privacy. I will continue to write and share personal reflections. But, I have come to learn the importance of maintaining some semblance of boundaries.

Arguments on History, Race, Politics, and Religion…

Posted in Academia, Friendship, Relationships by

As much as I like to argue…I’m going to stop having them. Period. What is the point? I may want to be the know it all, but when someone feels strongly about something the conversation can go down south easily. I think if I stop getting into arguments with people on the net and in real life, I’ll have much more time to do other things like study Arabic, read, and write. In fact, I’m going to refrain from arguments in blogistan, and especially here on my blog. I have spent hours and hours carefully writing retorts to wack statements. Although I’ll avoid arguments in daily life, I’m going to speak my mind freely here in my blog. Fine, if you don’t agree. But once I make a statement, I’m not going to have a lot of time to argue with you. If anyone is a scholar of Islam and the African Diaspora, please email me so that I could have a cordial and scholarly exchange. I miss that. I miss the classroom, who would think that I’d miss 3 hour seminars and boring scholarly conferences? I’d like feedback on my work and in exchange, I’d read and give comments any work you’d send me.

I’m still passionate about what I do. I have built my life around research and writing the history of religion, politics, and race. But I am really disliking discussing either history, race, politics, and religion for fun. It makes bad dinner conversation and it’s really bad for the digestion. I have to quit discussing three subjects most contentious subject in my spare time in order to preserve my sanity, manage my time and maintain respectful relationships. I am not saying that my conversations won’t be deep. I’m just not going to argue or push my point of view. That’s all….

Hot Girls in Kuwait

Posted in Khaliji, Muslim Women, Travel by

With all the allure of oil wealth, big eyes, mascara, sexy shoes, and flowing robes yes Kuwait has hot girls. Besides my Maghribiphile tendencies, I’ve always had a bit of a thing for Khaliji style. Kuwait has hot girls and I have found out how quickly I’ve become one of them.

By hot, I mean literally and figuratively. It’s crazy hot here, I mean like beyond Kalahari desert hot. You walk outside and it feels like you stepped into a dryer. That heat hits you like when you open up the oven and stick your head in. Only everyday, walk into an oven. Even at midnight it can range between 111 to 105 degrees. I wear abaya here and hijab here. Underneath I have another layer or regular clothes. I try to wear something light, but it doesn’t matter after 100 degrees you can’t tell the difference. It’s just hot. No wonder why they thought of hell fire in this region. That sun pounds you. To make things worse, men get to rub it in our faces as they rock some infinitely cooler white fits. My black and navy blue hijabs and abayas attract all the rays.

With the sun baking you all day, it is natural that you’d see sun-block at the stores. I’ve seen the highest SPF value that I’ve ever seen in my life. You can get SPF 55 here. I’ve also seen sun-block/fading creame. Women come in all shades here. Some skin tones are more natural and others not so much. All over the Middle East, Fair and Lovely is sold all over the place. It is becoming easier to spot the women who are addicted to fading creme. I remember the first time I saw a woman who had achieved that perfect Michael Jackson skin-tone. You can also see the foundation caked on, shades lighter than a neck (Kuwaitis have achieved a loose style of hijab that manages to stay on) or hands.

I’m slowly getting my bearings straight here. Life in Kuwait is surreal. Everything seems so orderly especially compared to my brief stint in Cairo. Everything is new, I don’t think I’ve seen a building over 40 years old. My friend reminded me that I exchanged the Cairene rate race for the mall. I had to run to the Mac store at the mall, so I had my first taste of Kuwaiti mall life. I saw Khaliji women in Egypt and you can spot them a mile away. They have these big lumps holding up their scarves. A lot wear a ton of make-up, like they get lost in the M.A.C. wharehouse or something. Most women wear hijab and abayas or chadors. There are hijab wearing women with skin tight clothes. And the women love flashy to tacky high heeled shoes. I’ve even seen bedazzled cheap heals at the discount market. Maybe the poorer Kuwaitis are trying to keep up with those who can afford Manolo and Jimmy Choo or Shoe or whatever his name is. I’m not going to hate, because I love shoes. But dang, they took it to the next level. So, I spotted a number of ‘ho shoes beneath some abaya or even chador. I’ve seen women in niqab rocking florescent blue eye-shadow. Women rock the nicest shoes to run a simple errand or do a little midnight shopping on a Monday night.

One of the things that I do admire is that even though many Kuwaiti women wear tent-like chadors or loose enough abayas to conceal their “adornments” for their husbands and family members, they do keep themselves up. It is easy to let youself go and not have any body issues when you spend most of your public life all covered up. But seeing them shop at H&M and the M.A.C. store reminded me that there are hot Muslim women all over the world who love being beautiful.

In the Muslim World

Posted in Convert, Gender Relations in Islam, Muslim, Muslim Women, Travel by

What does it mean being in the Muslim world? Does it mean that a society is more Islamic?  Does the percentage of Muslims make a difference? What about the percentage of women who cover and men who wear big beard and long thobes? What happened to all those traits we’d hear about in khutbas about the Ummah being an exemplary community, the best of peoples, etc…etc…

Well, the Muslim world isn’t this happy Muslim place where people are singing “Tala al badru wa’alayna” skipping down the streets giving salaams to their neighbors. No, the Muslim world is a place where a woman will get hit on and ripped off by an airport worker within 1/2 an hour of stepping on Muslim soil. The Muslim world is where a throng of people pass by an old lady struggling carrying her loaded bags and some random western woman offers to help. The Muslim world is where cars mow down pedestrians on the road and where everyone cusses each other out. The Muslim world is where men say disgusting things to hijab wearing women sweating profusely in the humid  air.

Being in the Muslim world means your landlord commands you to cover the toilet seat because there are jinn residing in the toilet and he accuses your roommate of practicing magic. It also means that he or his sons feel like they can come into your apartment at any time at night and take stuff out.

Being in the Muslim world means being thankful that you meet up with old college friends who will take care of you and make sure your stay is as comfortable as possible. It means you are thankful for the rare and random acts of generosity from those Muslims in the Muslim world who truly exemplify the beauty of Islam—Sadaqa and Karamah.

On Pictures, Hijab, and Forbidding evil

Posted in Hijab, Muslim Women, Social Justice by

I decided to make this a blog entry, as opposed to remaining in commentary on my main page:

Assalamalikum wa rahmatulahi wa barakatu,
Am trying not to be rude but I just have to forbid the evil you should be following the rules of hijab on the internet.We don’t know who might be looking at them
secondly I think you should read the views of the scholors on taking Picture you can try checking it out on http://www.islamqa.com
BintAbdullah

My response:

Perhaps you can find a scholarly opinion on spending idle time online on blogs, which can be nothing but idle talk and distract you from higher acts of ‘ibada like reciting Qur’an, making sunnah prayers, performing dhikr, or giving charity or volunteering. Muslims love to find blame in others who may have different levels of practice. If I felt compelled to wear hijab because of what other musims, whether scholars or not, that would be committing shirk. I dont wear hijab in pictures because that would be misrepresenting myself and quite insincere. I don’t wear hijab in the pictures because I have chosen not to wear hijab in daily life outside of the masjid or prayers.

I also believe there is no compulsion in religion. But there are societies that impose hijab, meaning that women who are forced receive no reward for intending to please Allah by wearing hijab. Rather than comply to the law of the land or to social pressure due to culture. I don’t argue matters of religion, but I see it like this, to me my way and to you yours. Thanks for your concern….

Last year I read Michael Cook’s book on Forbidding the wrong. Very interesting read. Book provides evidence to show that modern Muslims are more preoccupied with telling other Muslims what to do, as opposed to earlier texts on forbidding the wrong. While it is clear that we should command the good and forbid the wrong, it was never really clear how or who had the authority to forbid the wrong. But clearly, some communities give their members a permit allowing them to tell anyone else how much they suck. Apparently, me not wearing hijab is a evil. It is the most obvious evil that can quickly be eradicated, as opposed to “honor” killings, banditry, kidnapping, drug running, killing of civilians, corruption, bribery, rape, harrassment, defamation, assault, prostitution, forced marriages, and false testimony. Those will take a lot of work. It is less difficult to cover up a woman’s sexuality, now that is a real social evil that is destabilizing. Compared to the threat of a collapsing order due women in public spaces uncovered, the other drama we are faced with must be small cookies.

Good-byes

Posted in Bay Area, Relationships, Travel, Uncategorized by

This week-end, I drove with a friend to the Grizzley Peak. I said my good-bye to this chapter of my life, good-bye to friends, good-bye to the Bay Area.Tonight is my last night in California. This time tomorrow, I’ll be on the first leg of my journey. It hasn’t been easy saying good-bye. The past three days have been full of tears.
berkeley_lab_view.jpg

I will be returning to my home town before I go abroad. There will be a family reunion and I’ll know more about where I come from. But what do I know of any place? I know that even though I have never belonged or felt at home here in California, that it is beautiful. I’ll really miss so many parts of Northern California. Time was too short to soak it up and really enjoy it before leaving.

I have anticipated and feared this moment for the past eight months. It became all more real four months ago. My anxieties even creeped into my dreams. But there was no question as to whether I was going to take this journey. The only question was how. The how still unfolds. What do I return to is still unanswered.

So many of the relationships I have forged in the past few years have changed and a number have ended. I have no idea what will happen over the next year. I let go of old resentments and hurts so that I can be open to new experiences. I try to hold on to feelings of love and gratitude, rather than the fear and anxiety. I am tired, I am sad, I am excited, I am grateful. I have a few more things to do, and then there will be closure. I have a few more strings to tie and long list of prayers to make during my travels. My friends have kept me alive this long, and their love still carries me. I will keep them in my prayers. They say the prayers of a traveller are always answered.

Stop Trying To ‘Save’ Africa

Posted in Africa, Darfur by

I just read the op-ed by Uzodinma Iweala. It is an interesting piece. I thought I’d share it.

Last fall, shortly after I returned from Nigeria, I was accosted by a perky blond college student whose blue eyes seemed to match the “African” beads around her wrists.

“Save Darfur!” she shouted from behind a table covered with pamphlets urging students to TAKE ACTION NOW! STOP GENOCIDE IN DARFUR!

It seems that these days, wracked by guilt at the humanitarian crisis it has created in the Middle East, the West has turned to Africa for redemption. Idealistic college students, celebrities such as Bob Geldof and politicians such as Tony Blair have all made bringing light to the dark continent their mission.

Read the rest of the article here

N-gga Talk

Posted in Bay Area, Black and Mexican relations, Black Women, Race in America by

Last year I wrote about a teacher who was suspended for telling his student to “Sit Down Nigga!” I made a brief reference to the Michael Richard’s racial tirade in a blog entry about Cross cultural discourse on Black Culture and the Black Family . Even though the NAACP staged the funeral of the N-word, it appears that the N-word is alive and well and exploited by all sorts of people.

Let me tell you my most recent experience. I met a friend at a random franchise Mexican restaurant for a bite to eat. We haven’t been able to catch up in a long time. She’s from the East Coast and spent several years in New York. Anyone coming to Palo Alto from a major East Coast city often experiences a major culture shock. This is especially the case for African Americans who move from areas where there is a significant African American population. I know of a very WASPy guy whose father moved to Idaho because he felt like the Mexicans and Asians were taking over. One has to wonder how do some of the old timers feel when they see brown faces walking in their multi-million dollar neighborhoods and local spots . You see Palo Alto is an affluent suburb of San Francisco that is predominately white. Rarely do I experience racial hostility, except for the one time when my brother and I were seated next to a skinhead couple at another more trendy franchise restuarant. He had a Black jacket that said “White boy” and “Fuck all yall!” his girlfriend wore a hat that said “Skin.” I am sure they felt like us two Black people invaided their white space of Palo Alto. They didn’t say anything to us, but then again there were only two of them. The issue was that they wore their white supremacist ideology as accessories in order to let people like me and my brother, and the dozen or so Somoans who would have destroyed them in an altercation, that this was their town and Fuck all of us.

While this was a rare occasion, I do get other instances when I am very much aware of my outsider status. Normally, I get stared at a lot. Last Monday, one of my friends who is racially ambiguous but clearly not white noticed how all these white people stared at us. Some with mouths agape. I assured her it could not all be just because I am black or they are staring at my hair. On occassion someone will pay me a compliment. So, I just assume they are staring for more positive reasons. Not that I should let that get to my head. But last Friday, an old white man at a cafe just stared at me with one of those stone cold stares. I swear it had to last about 20 minutes. There was no friendliness involved, just one of those stares that made me quite uncomfortable. But I tried to act like everything was normal and not let it phase me.

Maybe something was in the air this past week. But it wasn’t just me. I’m not hyper-sensitive or something, and it was more than just stares. That Thursday evening my friend and I ate outside at that franchise Mexican restaurant. After I got up to take wrap up my leftovers my friend informed me that a young hispanic/latina/Chicana used the N-word. She was talking to her Asian and White friends who sat at the table. From what I recall, she said “Oh he’s using that nigger talk.” Immediately I got pissed. My friend, who has dreads, just experienced a child commenting on her hair. This was the last straw. So, my friend went up to the girl and checked her. My friend’s point was that if this teenager felt comfortable saying the N-word in front of her, then what else does the girl have on her mind. The thing that was so disturbing was how comfortable she felt saying it. The girl defended herself by saying that her boyfriend was Black, so she’s not racist. So my friend said, “Would you use that language in front of his mother or grandmother?” The girl said that his mother wasn’t black, he was mixed. That logic amazed me. My friend tried to tell the girl how disrespectful that was and that as a young woman she needs to think about what she says. I am sure in that girl’s mind we were two Black women with attitudes, so I wonder how much did it sink it. We did not appreciate hearing the N-word appropriated by some teeny-boppers who don’t know the gravity of that word. We did not appreciate having to be confronted with that type of issue when all we wanted to do was relax and catch up. But somehow this young woman felt that it was okay to use the N-word within ear shot of two Black women. Who said it was okay? Was it her boyfriend or some of their Black female friends that gave them a pass? Did one of their friends tell them, “Hey you’re one of us, so you can use the N-word around us.” Guess what my friends, none of us are authorized to give out that pass. We ned to think about the gravity of our words when we say them. We need to hold ourselves and others accountable for what they say and how it can affect others.

Flavors

Posted in Black Beauty, Black Women, Race in America, Race in Muslim Societies by

Tariq Nelson reminded us that colorism still exists in his blog entry, And you Still Deny it. His short entry directs us to Umm Adam’s blog entry Racism and Colorism in Saudi. Time and time again, we read about negative perceptions of African Americans. Dozens of African American authors, like Toni Morrison in her book The Bluest Eye, have explored racial self hatred. Recently more people are recounting stories of colorism and racial self-hatred among Afro-Arab communities. When I went to Southern Morocco, I saw the most beautiful Moroccans in all shades and colors. It reminded me of home.After reading the entry, I didn’t feel angry instead I felt kind of sad for the people who are not allowed to see their beauty.

I went to New Jersey to visit my grandmother in 2005. One day she brought me to her work in order to introduce me to her co-workers. My grandmother, a seventy year old chocolate woman who beamed as she introduced her grandchildren, told her co-workers,”My babies are the colors of the rainbow.” Last June my family took me out to lunch at in celebration of my graduation. A white American couple stopped by our table and told my mother, “You have a beautiful family!” My mom smiled, “Yes, they are all my babies.” My mom noted, “Whenever we go somewhere people stare and are drawn to us. It’s like they’re suprised to see attractive Black people.” My mother gave birth to striking children of distinct hues: dark chocolate, peachy cream, and me somewhere in between. I enjoy the skin that I’m in. I look at my family pictures and all the shades, I think of that poem:

Harlem Sweeties
by Langston Hughes

Have you dug the spill
Of Sugar Hill?
Cast your gims
On this sepia thrill:
Brown sugar lassie,
Caramel treat,
Honey-gold baby
Sweet enough to eat.
Peach-skinned girlie,
Coffee and cream,
Chocolate darling
Out of a dream.
Walnut tinted
Or cocoa brown,
Pomegranate-lipped
Pride of the town.
Rich cream-colored
To plum-tinted black,
Feminine sweetness
In Harlem’s no lack.
Glow of the quince
To blush of the rose.
Persimmon bronze
To cinnamon toes.
Blackberry cordial,
Virginia Dare wine—
All those sweet colors
Flavor Harlem of mine!
Walnut or cocoa,
Let me repeat:
Caramel, brown sugar,
A chocolate treat.
Molasses taffy,
Coffee and cream,
Licorice, clove, cinnamon
To a honey-brown dream.
Ginger, wine-gold,
Persimmon, blackberry,
All through the spectrum
Harlem girls vary—
So if you want to know beauty’s
Rainbow-sweet thrill,
Stroll down luscious,
Delicious, fine Sugar Hill.

Cross Dressing For Allah

Posted in Gender Relations in Islam, Hijab, humor, Islam, Muslim Women by

So one of my friends asked me what did I think about the Red Mosque stand off. You know, the one where the pious Muslim leader tried to escape out the backdoor dressed as a woman. I’m not one to write too much about politics. I am also very careful about writing on events that I don’t understand. But who could ignore the dramatic events and the burqas. Umar Lee has made some very interesting comments on this piece in his blog. My response is delayed because I’ve been really swamped with my work and studies. But with the flurry of blog entries, here’s my two cents.

There is so much discussion about women’s dress, hijab, niqab, and burqa. A few years back, Michael Jackson made headlines by dressing in an abaya and veil and powdering his nose in a bathroom. Himesh Reshammiya pissed off a lot of Muslims in a shrine. Himesh and Michael were just trying to escape paparazzi. But there have been a growing number of stories where bank robbers and Muslim militants donned the burqa to escape police or military capture. In the case of the mosque standoff, I think I’d cut the brother some slack if he didn’t have such a hard core deen-or-die-rough-rider-pakistani-style rhetoric. So what’s up with that ready to die as a shaheed, but dressing up as a meek Muslimah? I’m really rusty on my Fiqh, but last I heard was that cross dressing was haram. In fact, I’ve read works by Muslim writers who condemn Muslim women for wearing jeans and pants like men. But maybe in this case they used ijtihad and came up with some ruling that it is okay to cross dress fi-subil-Allah.