As a law student-going-on-lawyer, I’ve realized that so much of being a perceived as a good attorney rides on your appearance. Well-tailored suits are an absolute must for both men and women. A lawyer does not look like a lawyer unless he or she is, as we say in Pakistan, “suited booted.” Business casual is rare, especially in government jobs, and even then is expected to be respectable enough to receive a client or colleague.

In some way, I win here. I recently read an article about male judges’ reflections on what female lawyers wear in the court room, and the “old boys” (and “old girls”) lawyers I’ve met through the Susie Sharp Inn of Court seem to echo the same sentiment – “You’re in court, not at a party. I don’t need to see that much leg or that much cleavage.”

Sweet – no problem on either front for me. Indeed, I agree with the sentiment itself, too. Showing that much skin is not only disrespectful to the court and the institution of the law, but also to yourself. It gets you stared at for the wrong reasons (yes, it does, even if you don’t ask for it, it does. Eyes wander, that’s what they’re meant to do – look) and diminishes you in the credibility and respect you deserve. Fine, Lady Lawyers, I’ll give you an okay on below the knee skirts and short sleeve shirts (maybe even sleeveless if it’s tactful), but no cleavage, please. Not acceptable.

But in other ways, I lose. Buying my definition of halal suits is not an easy task. Choices are limited to (at most) mid-calf skirts (more usually knee length or shorter). Jackets come up to right at or above the waist, and combined with a fitted pant or skirt, the butt is completely bare and distinguishable. Not okay for me. Blouses and shirts are either spandexy (too tight) or low cut or too short (again, see the butt problem). You can get suit jackets that are longer (mid thigh or knee), but they’re expensive and hard to come by (and often cut for an older fashion sense).

Alhamdulillah, I’m lucky that when I find one of these longer, well cut suits, my mom or dad will get me multiples stitched in different colors from Pakistan. That helps very immensely, so I’ve got a whole set of well cut, well covered suits. I shake it up with a pretty colored shirt and hijab (and apparently people notice), so there is an element of fun to it – but moreso once I’m comfortable with who I’m with and where I am. I stick to blues, grays, whites for first days and big meetings.

Here’s where the real issue is for me: my headcover.

I’ve worn hijab for 11 years now, Alhamdulillah. In that time, I’ve gone from tentative uncertainty to gradual comfort to unabashed self-confidence.

I believe that wearing hijab is good for me on many levels: it fulfills a religious requirement and provides spiritual and moral benefit, it allows me to express a carefully tailored Islamic identity, it makes me a walking (and hopefully, counter-stereotypical) symbol of Islam and gives me the opportunity to teach others the truth about my faith, and it earns me the respect of my Muslim and non-Muslim friends and colleagues.

I’m very proud of my hijab and my choice to wear it, and Alhamdulillah, I’ve never doubted my decision.

But in the past year, I’ve come to be uncomfortable and nervous in situations that would never have affected me before law school. It’s always been nerve wracking to be a muhajjibah when you’re going to a small Southern town, where the stereotypes in your head are activated and you find yourself thinking, “That man looks like he might shoot me if I make one wrong move.” But as long as you smile, stay polite, things usually turn out okay in those situations. (Note that sometimes, part of the art of wearing hijab also means gracefully ignoring prejudicial comments from the peanut gallery).

Wearing hijab as a law student, soon to be lawyer is nervewracking on a different level. For the first time ever, when I attended my first professional/social event, I found myself nervous when I walked into the hall full of attorneys and judges – butterflies-in-my-stomach, a stomach-twinging kind of nervous.

I couldn’t help thinking, “What will they think of me?” For some of them, especially the older men “old boys” types, maybe this would be their first encounter with a Muslimah, a brown and hijab-ed one at that. Would they doubt my abilities as a lawyer? Would they think I’m a little “too diverse” for their tastes? Would they let me fit in to their profession?

I hate feeling like that. I hate that, when I walked into my first job interview with Justice Timmons-Goodson at the NC Supreme Court, I thought “what if I won’t belong here?”

I had left those feelings behind on the first day of high school, when I started wearing hijab and emerging from my middle school chrysalis. What were those emotions doing back here, in my throat and stomach, when I was about to meet a state Supreme Court Justice?

I was nervous, shaky, and agitated – but thankfully (and this is a testament to her greatness), the Justice took me into her office, spoke to me kindly and with an obviously real interest in my opinions, and finally gave me the job. I still look to her, a beautiful African American woman (the first on the NC SC) who worked hard and proudly stands for what she believes in, as an example of who I want to be. Her clerks were also like her – Saad, a Muslim clerk of Pakistani origin whose intelligence blew me away from the start, and Jenny, a mother of four whose absolute skill in excelling in both work and family life inspired me and let me dream of having a life like that, too. And of course, there was the unforgettable Ms. Elaine – an open minded, loving woman with great hair who has deep and hilarious conversations with you no matter who you are.

I was ashamed of how nervous I was – not because I did not have confidence in my skills, but because of what I thought others would see when they saw my hijab.

Imagine my annoyance, then, when the same feelings sprang back up when I walked in for an interview with the NC Attorney General’s office for my current summer internship. Justice Timmons-Goodson had come with high praise from some of my most respected advisors, and I had a feeling that, being a minority herself, she would not be as weirded out by a muhajjibah. But I felt twice as apprehensive while waiting for my two interviewers at the AG’s office. I’d never seen these women before and had only spoken to them on the phone. They’d been attentive, engaging, and friendly on the phone – but what if they’d just been expecting a normal brown girl, not a muhajjibah?

They didn’t flinch when they both walked into the lobby, where I stood anxiously looking at pictures of former NC Attorneys General. They were everything kind, polite, engaging, and fair (and have continued to be so as I’ve started working here). I was simultaneously at ease, and exasperated and embarassed for my suspicions. Hadn’t I done just to them just what I was afraid they’d do to me?

Stereotyping is contagious.

Still, I can’t help feeling the nerves.

I still feel that when I speak in class or express an opinion (especially one having to do with war, national security, or civil rights), I’m often speaking as a symbol of Islam (this is part of what kept me relatively quiet in my National Security Law class, and if it was not for the absolute kindness and open mindedness of Professor Scott Silliman, I would never have opened my mouth. My classmates are the people I will be working with for the rest of my life, so I didn’t want to be branded as ‘That crazy liberal Muslim girl from law school.’).

I still feel that, to some degree, I will be judged by what I wear on a different level than a woman who wears a revealing shirt or skirt – because my kind of clothing marks me as distinctly different and possibly foreign (and to some, dangerous), instead of just a little too liberal in fashion sense. Maybe I’m just imagining the looks from the “old boys,” the lawyers who’ve been working for longer than I’ve been alive. Maybe not.

But really, in the end, most of them will not treat me differently, at least not in the public interest law field that I’m working towards. I’ve still got the unabashed confidence for 99% of the time. In the end, overwhelmingly, I feel respected, not rejected.

And the most important thing is that I know what I am doing is right for me (both wearing hijab and being a lawyer), and it makes me happy to do it.

But it’ll always be in the back of…or, I guess, on top of…my head.

The last day of my internship at the NC Supreme Court, Jenny took me aside and told me how proud she was of me for wearing a scarf. She told me that there would always be people who would treat me differently because I wore a scarf, but that I wouldn’t want to work for those kinds of lawyers and law firms anyway.

Thanks, Jenny. You’re right.

Glossary:
Hijab: the Muslim woman’s (Muslimah) religiously mandated style of dress and behavior that is meant to embody and encourage modesty, spirituality, and ethical goodness. The term “hijab” means more than just a particular item of clothing, but it is commonly used to refer to the scarf that covers the head and neck. A Muslimah who wears hijab is called a muhajjibah.

Halal: (an extremely simplified definition) what is allowed by Islamic law.

Alhamdulillah: “Praise be to God.” Used to express thanks.

Also, as my friend Sophia mentions, this cultural and educational movement takes on a similar form in today’s Muslim students going into medicine: “While our parents encouraged science careers or medicine for the monetary stability and gain, their children who are pursuing such a career might not be doing it for those reasons– and while the shift the kids are making isn’t in careers to another field, it is an ideological shift as to why they are pursuing such a career– i.e. medicine as a means of empowerment, being a poor doctor by passing up lucrative specialties for something like family medicine, and then using that career in ways to help the community that hasn’t been done before. again, this kind of shift also requires the stability that comes with being a second generation . . . so hopefully in the future this shift that is occurring towards non-science careers will be accompanied by a paradigm shift in what a science career can be used for. i think the key is for people to realize that the possibilities are endless. we have to get past a “survival” mindset and think bigger.”

A particular moment comes to mind when I think about why I came to law school. Once, I was at the masjid after I had started my first year of law school. An older brother who was active in the Muslim political action sphere stopped to talk to me. He is a Palestinian who had to leave his homeland. He said Salaam and asked me how I was doing, what I was up to. I told him I was in law school. We were both walking away, but he stopped and smiled brightly. “You make us so proud, Sister Taiyyaba,” he said, “we are so proud of you.” That’s when I realized that going to law school isn’t just about doing it for me….it’s about doing it for them – for our parents who sacrificed for us, for our community who gave us a home. Inshallah, all of us youth who are working in any field now have to keep ourselves grounded in our roots and remember who we are.

And we don’t just have to work for “Muslim” issues to be true to ourselves. Being who we are makes us uniquely situated to empathize and sympathize with other communities who are finding themselves victim to the same discrimination and struggles. Being empowered by our careers makes us able to do something about it for all of us. We have to be fighters for justice for all.

O ye who believe! Stand out firmly For justice, as witnesses To Allah, even as against Yourselves, or your parents, Or your kin, and whether It be (against) rich or poor: For Allah can best protect both. Follow not the lusts (Of your hearts), lest ye Swerve, and if ye Distort (justice) or decline To do justice, verily Allah is well-acquainted With all that ye do. (The Noble Quran, 4:135)

Shout out to Natasha, Saja, Yasmin Amer, Shahid, and all the other Muslim liberal arts students who were interviewed in the article! Thanks also to Nigel Edwards, whose picture is in the article in the center of the section; he was also part of our group of four Muslim law students from UNC who interviewed for this article.

Students on course for empowerment
More young Muslims gravitate toward careers in law, journalism, acting and filmmaking
By Yonat Shimron, Staff Writer
http://www.newsobserver.com/105/story/1274326.html

Growing up in Cary, Taiyyaba Qureshi spent her summer vacations in research labs “filling petri dishes” for her immunologist father and microbiologist mother.
Her parents, natives of Pakistan, expected her to become a scientist, just like them.

But by the time she took an advanced placement physics class, Qureshi had other notions. Active in her mosque and always willing to represent Islam at churches and schools, she dreamed of a larger public role.

Her venue? Law school.

“Our parents were focused on economic stability,” said Qureshi, a second-year law student at UNC-Chapel Hill.

“Our needs are not economic stability but social and political empowerment.” [Our needs are not *now* economic stability, because our parents and support structures have allowed us to go beyond that.]

Qureshi is one of a growing number of educated, middle-class Muslims who are venturing into law, journalism, filmmaking and acting. They have seen firsthand the difficulties of being a Muslim post-9/11, and they want to ensure that America’s values of equality, freedom and opportunity are extended to all.

Whether it was the roundups of U.S. Muslims after the 2001 terrorist strikes, the perceived racial profiling at airports or the employment discrimination experienced by some women wearing the veil, these young Muslims think America needs more vocal representation from their ranks.

“We’re trying to make sure every American is entitled to civil rights guarantees in the Constitution,” said Abbas Ravjani, president of the National Muslim Law Students Association and a student at Yale Law School. The organization was formed six years ago and now has 300 students on its electronic mailing list.

In some ways, it’s the typical immigrant story. Members of the first generation spend their lives making a living and providing a safety net for their families. Members of the second generation want a greater hand in helping shape the society of the future. They are more willing to engage in political causes and fight for social justice.

Often, though, these young Muslims must confront parents who devoted their lives to science, engineering or computer programming — professions that travel well from one country to another.

Natasha El-Sergany’s Egyptian-born father expected her to become a doctor like him. When she was 10, he gave her a stethoscope. He expected her to take the Medical College Admission Test while she was in college. So when El-Sergany finally mustered the courage to tell her father she wanted to go to law school, she braced for a struggle.

“The way I ended up convincing my dad is that I told him J.D. [the law degree] stands for ‘juris doctor,’ ” said El-Sergany, 22, a law student at UNC-Chapel Hill. “He came around.”

Why pursue a law degree?

To be sure, not every Muslim entering law school wants to change the world. [Not so sure I agree with this statement - I'm sure Kamil and Shahid want to change the world in their own way.]

Kamil Chaudhary, a Duke Law School student, expects to work as a corporate lawyer at a venture capital firm when he graduates in spring. Shahid Khan, a first-year law school student at UNC-CH, is interested in patent or business law.

But there’s no denying that the number of Muslims entering law school is rising. Although there are no reliable figures because many schools don’t ask students about their religion, law schools are finding a few Muslim students where they once had none.

Farhana Khera, president and executive director of the Washington-based National Association of Muslim Lawyers, said the organization started 12 years ago with only a dozen lawyers exchanging e-mail. It now has a membership of 500.

Media majors appeal, too

Young Muslims are also studying journalism.

Yasmin Amer said she was tired of seeing Muslims misrepresented in the media. On Tuesday, Amer, a third-year journalism and Arabic double major at UNC-CH, organized a panel discussion of an inflammatory DVD called “Obsession: Radical Islam’s War Against the West.”

When she graduates, Amer imagines herself working in the U.S. or in her native Egypt reporting on social and gender issues for radio or TV.

N.C. State University’s student newspaper, Technician, has its first Muslim editor, Kuwaiti-born, American-raised Saja Hindi. The 20-year-old English and political science major was also editor of the student newspaper at Athens Drive High School in Raleigh.

“A lot of people were hesitant to go into [journalism] because they were afraid of a backlash or of not being accepted,” she said. “Now it’s becoming more of an option for people.”

But the greater numbers are in law schools.

Joel Mahmud Bhuiyan became interested in the denial of legal guarantees for prisoners at Guantanamo Bay.

After graduating from Wesleyan University in Connecticut two years ago, he interned at the Center for Constitutional Rights. The New York-based nonprofit represented Guantanamo detainees before the Supreme Court.

Now Bhuiyan, 24, the son of Bangladeshi immigrants, is cramming for the Law School Admission Test and plans to apply to Duke Law School.

For Bhuiyan, it was international issues, including the imprisonments at Guantanamo or the torture inflicted by U.S. soldiers at Abu Ghraib prison, that led him to consider law.

“We need more Muslims to go into international human rights work,” Bhuiyan said. “That’s one field where we need more of a presence.”

Bhuiyan’s idealism is similar to Qureshi’s. She is not just interested in law.

“For me,” Qureshi said, “it’s as much about community empowerment as litigation. If I don’t like the result, I want to fight to change the law.”

For those of you who have not been so fortunate as to hear about this shirt or know its creator, Mike Mallah, let me introduce you!

Mike is one of the most humble, polite, and caring people I’ve met. He has faced the kind of challenges that would break most people. But Mashallah, not only has he dealt with them all with grace and gratitude, he has used them to project himself into, Inshallah, a successful medical career. I’m lucky to know him.

Mike is a Palestinian who got sick of stereotypes and decided to do something about it. He realized that the root of most stereotyping is ignorance, so he started the Not A Wear company. At www.NotAWear.com, he sells this phenomenal tshirt – simple, black, with a message in red and white:

You should by this shirt, and you should wear it. The portion of the proceeds goes to Seeds of Peace and United Palestine Apparel.

Today, I was wearing my Not a Terrorist shirt in a very serious manner – black pants, black long sleeved shirt underneath, topped with a red hijab to highlight the colors (Sarah L. called it “blood red). It just looked like I was making a statement.

Today, I got a “look” – you know what look I mean – the “whoa…uh…okay….” kind of deer-in-headlights look when you’re wearing an emphatic t-shirt. I instinctively held my Evidence book so that it covered the message…..and then called myself a cop-out for doing that.

For some reason, the “looks” bother me more than they used to when I wore emphatic shirts in high school or college. (I had one from MuslimBasketball.com that was just a black tshirt with MUSLIM in big white letters across the chest. I loved that shirt. My mom, probably for my own good, hid it for a little while after 9-11 so I wouldn’t wear it to my high school). Maybe it’s because today I feel very strongly about presenting a professional appearance while in law school because it adds credibility to my external professional image, which might be a little hampered in some circles because of my hijab. I think twice about wearing this shirt every time, wondering what my professors will think. It could also be because today is the Law Review Symposium and there are legal professionals in suits walking around everywhere.

But, I want to get over that. I spend too much time sometimes thinking about what other people think of my professional appearance (though, you have to fairly grant me that in my profession, that is quite important in most circumstances). I find this shirt increasingly powerful as we move towards the election, and I’m going to wear it on Nov. 4th.

Colin Powell during his interview with Tom Brokaw, speaking of his endorsement of Democratic Senator Barack Obama for President and his disappointment with the narrowing of the Republican Party:

“Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country? The answer is no. That’s not America. Is there something wrong with a seven-year-old Muslim-American kid believing he or she could be president? Yet I have heard senior members of my own party drop the suggestion that he is a Muslim and might have an association with terrorists. This is not the way we should be doing it in America.

I feel strongly about this particular point because of a picture I saw in a magazine. It was a photo essay about troops who are serving in Iraq and Afghanistan.

And one picture at the tail end of this photo essay was of a mother in Arlington Cemetery, and she had her head on the headstone of her son’s grave. And as the picture focused in, you could see the writing on the headstone. And it gave his awards — Purple Heart, Bronze Star — showed that he died in Iraq, gave his date of birth, date of death. He was 20 years old.

And then, at the very top of the headstone, it didn’t have a Christian cross; it didn’t have the Star of David; it had crescent and a star of the Islamic faith. And his name was Kareem Rashad Sultan Khan, and he was an American. He was born in New Jersey. He was 14 years old at the time of 9/11, and he waited until he can go serve his country, and he gave his life.”

Also see Arsalan Iftikhar’s interview on Al-Jazeerah English on General Colin Powell’s endorsement of Barack Obama today. [And check out www.theMuslimGuy.com!]

Also look at this article:

Muslims applaud Colin Powell for defending them
October 23, 2008

Lepers. Untouchables. Politically radioactive.

These are ways American Muslims describe their status in an election year when Barack Obama’s opponents are spreading rumors that he is Muslim, when he is Christian, and linking him to terrorists.

So when Colin Powell, a Republican, condemned using Muslim as a smear — a tactic he said members of his own party allowed — there was an outpouring of gratitude and relief from American Muslims.

‘‘That speech really came out of left field and really shocked us,’’ said Wajahat Ali, 27, an attorney and playwright from Fremont, Calif. ‘‘The sense is that it’s about time. He said something that needed to be said.’’

The retired general, who was President Bush’s first secretary of state, made the comments on NBC’s ‘‘Meet the Press,’’ as he broke with his party to endorse the Democratic nominee for president. Powell noted in last Sunday’s broadcast that Republican John McCain did not spread rumors about Obama’s faith, but Powell said he was ‘‘troubled’’ that others did.

‘‘The correct answer is, he is not a Muslim, he’s a Christian. He’s always been a Christian. But the really right answer is, what if he is? Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country? The answer’s no, that’s not America,’’ Powell said.

‘‘Yet, I have heard senior members of my own party drop the suggestion, ‘He’s a Muslim and he might be associated (with) terrorists.’ This is not the way we should be doing it in America.’’

Powell said he felt especially strongly about the rumors because of a photo he saw in The New Yorker magazine of the mother of a Muslim soldier in Arlington Cemetery embracing her son’s grave, which was marked with a Muslim crescent and star. The solider, Kareem R. Khan of New Jersey, was 20 when he was killed in Iraq.

‘‘We American Muslims have talked about our patriotism and the heroism of some American Muslims till we were blue in the face, and neither the media nor the people listen,’’ said Seeme Hasan, a Pueblo, Colo., Republican whose family has given tens of thousands of dollars to the GOP.

‘‘Gen. Powell made people listen and at a very humane level,’’ said Hasan, who is backing McCain. ‘‘More people in leadership positions need to say this and recognize this — that American Muslims have worked very hard to fight this war on terror.’’

The inaccurate claims that Obama is secretly Muslim started as soon as he was mentioned as a potential presidential candidate.

There were false rumors that he was educated at a radical Islamic school as a child in Indonesia and that he was sworn into the Senate on the Quran.

His opponents emphasized his middle name — Hussein — and circulated a photo of him wearing traditional tribal garb on a 2006 visit to Somalia.

Kari Ansari, a mother of three from Villa Park, Ill., said the allegations upset her 10-year-old son.

‘‘It sort of made him feel like, ‘If they won’t elect him president just for trying on Muslim clothes, they will never elect me because I’m a real Muslim,’’’ said Ansari, a founder of America’s Muslim Family, a quarterly magazine. ‘‘That’s heartbreaking for us as Muslim parents.’’

Obama has combatted the claims in speeches and on a campaign Web site dedicated to debunking inaccuracies about him. But the belief persists.

A poll by the Pew Research Center for the People and the Press found 12 percent of voters believed the Illinois senator is Muslim. That poll was released Tuesday — coincidentally, the same day the head of a New Mexico Republican women’s group called Obama a ‘‘Muslim socialist’’ and said ‘‘Muslims are our enemies.’’ County and GOP officials condemned the statements.

‘‘Muslims feel jaded by the 2008 election precisely because they see the smearing of their identity,’’ Ali said. ‘‘Muslim or Arab is seen as a scarlet letter, political leprosy, kryptonite. There is that taint there. We’re the lowest of the low.’’

The experience isn’t entirely new for American Muslims, who have struggled for acceptance in the aftermath of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. The major parties have quietly courted them for years, yet presidential candidates have refused to publicly associate with them, leaders say.

The exact number of U.S. Muslim voters is not known. But many are wealthy professionals who came to the country to earn graduate degrees in engineering, medicine and business. They settled in significant numbers in key states including Michigan and Florida.

Presidential candidates ‘‘are not willing to have their photo taken, they don’t meet with Muslim organizations, and they shy away from any issue that may link them to the Muslim community,’’ said Salam al-Marayati, executive director of the Muslim Public Affairs Council, a Los Angeles advocacy group leading a national Muslim voter registration campaign.

‘‘We’re treated as untouchables in politics,’’ al-Marayati said. Yet, this year has been especially painful because of the attacks on Obama.

Hesham Hassaballa, a physician and author from Chicago, said this month he formally left the GOP, partly because of the allegations. Like many other Muslims, Hassaballa had joined the Republican Party because of its small-government philosophy, social conservatism and pledge to limit taxes.

In 2000, he supported McCain in the primaries, then Bush in the final election. Four years later, he backed Democrat John Kerry for president, partly to protest Bush policies on detaining and interrogating terror suspects, but remained Republican.

Now, he says the party has abandoned its principles. ‘‘The McCain of 2008 is not the McCain of 2000,’’ Hassaballa said. ‘‘With the way the campaign has been going and a lot of the anti-Muslim rhetoric, just how the McCain campaign has conducted itself, just really turned me off.’’

The McCain campaign did not respond to requests for comment. In defending himself, Obama has rejected the idea that being called Muslim is an insult. His campaign also has an outreach coordinator to the Muslim community.

Some American Muslims said they wished the Illnois senator would say more forcefully that their religion should not be used as a smear, but said they understood that it could damage his presidential bid in this political climate.

‘‘I don’t think there could have been any better messenger than Colin Powell, being someone who is a well-respected Republican, a former secretary of state and an army general,’’ said Arsalan Iftikhar, a Washington, D.C., civil rights lawyer and writer who supports Obama. ‘‘American Muslims feel slightly politically radioactive at this time. This sends a resounding message of inclusiveness.’’

One year ago: Jalaibi

I’m usually pretty good at standing up for myself with respect to making my personal religious boundaries known to those around me. It’s a deliberate action I think every Muslim in a majority non-Muslim society has to decide to do (or not, I guess, if that’s how you feel). Non-Mahram contact issues are especially predominant: Do I shake hands with someone of the opposite gender? Do I accept hugs from someone of the opposite gender (and how do I escape surprise hugs?) Then there’s the wudu and prayer time issues (getting caught with your foot in the sink).

Lawyers like to network. Networking means contacts, and contacts means jobs and referrals. But in the legal career, networking happens in places that I’m not to happy to be.

The newest thing I’m facing in law school is debating whether or not to attend social or professional events that significantly involve drinking. In college, I’d avoid having to make this choice by not involving myself with social groups that drank. Lawyers “network” by going to bars, cocktail parties, or hanging around the cash bar that inevitably operates at every legal event.

Case on point: UNC Law School organizations have “Bar Review” every Thursday night. Ten points for guessing what that means.

Clue: it’s not a study party.

Needless to say, the legal profession has a disproportionately high level of alcoholism.

They ask you (O Muhammad SAW) concerning alcoholic drink and gambling. Say: “In them is a great sin, and (some) benefit for men, but the sin of them is greater than their benefit.” And they ask you what they ought to spend [in charity]. Say: “That which is beyond your needs.” Thus Allâh makes clear to you His Laws in order that you may give thought.” Surat Al-Baqarah, v. 219

A recent decision I had to make was when the legal journal I work for, the North Carolina Journal for International Law and Commercial Regulation was planning an alcoholic social event after the first day of orientation. The plan was that the staff would interact off-campus to build collegiality before all the work started.

Naturally, I was uncomfortable with this. For me, it doesn’t cut it to just hang around the bar and not drink, to go just for the socialization. That’s not okay. I emailed the managing editor with my concern, telling her that I wouldn’t be attending this event because of my religious beliefs. (I wanted them to know that the reason I wasn’t attending was because of my faith, not because I’m antisocial).

I was surprised, quite surprised, when she and the staff responded by completely changing the location to a popsicle shop. I told them that they didn’t have to change the location just for my sake, on such short notice, but they assured me that it was fine. I was impressed.

I know that I’ll have to face this choice more often than I’d like. I don’t know what kind of effect it will have on my “legal network.” Part of me thinks that I wouldn’t want to be working with lawyers who spend so much time around alcohol anyway, and that most of this is “big firm” life, which I am not particularly interested in. Another part tells me that I should not judge people’s alcohol consumption (and their corresponding legal skills) by my own Muslim standards.

O you who believe! Intoxicants (all kinds of alcoholic drinks), gambling, Al-Ansab, and Al-Azlam (arrows for seeking luck or decision) are an abomination of Satan’s handiwork. So avoid (strictly all) that (abomination) in order that you may be successful. Satan wants only to excite enmity and hatred between you with intoxicants and gambling, and hinder you from the remembrance of Allah and from prayer. So, will you not then abstain? Surat al-Maidah, v. 90-91

But the loudest voice in my head is telling me that even though I will not always be able to avoid these situations, I’d rather carve out a kind of personal life and legal career for myself that does not depend on success at a cash bar networking event. It’s not worth it. It’s not worth compromising my faith or personal convictions. I want to have the kind of personal control over my career where I can make people remember me not by how we socialized at a cash bar but the kind of work I do. It may be against the grain, but hey, that’s what law is about – fighting for and enforcing your legitimate point of view for a good reason.

Alhamdulillahi Rabbil Alameen. Praise be to Allah, Lord of the Worlds.

ramadan represents chance – a chance to focus on all aspects of yourself and your life. ramadan represents choice – the choice to use this blessed month to strike a balance between self-denial and self-fulfillment. instead of waiting around for something dynamic to happen in your life, waiting for a catalyst to push you into self-renewal – ramadan is a time for each person to take his or her life into their own hands – grasp every day and every night and throw themselves entirely into this life to transform it into a preparation for the hereafter.

there are a lot of things i want to change about myself. i’ve noticed myself slipping into a bare-bones minimum religious life (from what i tell myself is busy-ness and fatigue) and i’m not happy with that. i know where my mind and heart used to be, and i want to get back there and go beyond it to a higher level of spiritual strength.

i want to use this month to increase my patience and focus in many areas – faith, family, school. i want to make myself think more deeply about who i am (i.e. expand my mind beyond where law school has confined it for the past year), spend more time immersed in thought and exploring inside my own mind. i want to read more Quraan and spend time learning the words and meaning of the verses and thinking of ways to apply them to my life.

i’m not even sure why i’m writing this in a blog post. this really is a private matter, but i think if i post it and see it over and over, i’ll feel more of a sense of dedication to my goals. making myself write it down and put it in a place where i can see it is important to me.

my Lord has never turned His back on me. He’s always given me more than I could ever think to ask for, bestowing bounty and mercy on me without me even asking for it. even though i am not where i should be right now, i know that He will guide me once i make the intention and effort to learn and open my heart.

Some other pictures from around Makkah:

Dear Friends,

My family and I are in Medina Al-Munawwarah, breathing in the kindness and light of this city. Alhamdulillah. There isn’t much that can be said about the two Sacred Mosques. All you can do is be awed, humbled, and pray to your heart’s content. This evening we go to Makkah for Umrah, InshAllah.

You’re all in my duas,

Taiyyaba

(Coincidentally, also my 100 blogpost anniversary. Great way to celebrate!)

Allah disdains not to use the similitude of things, lowest as well as highest. Those who believe know that it is truth from their Lord; but those who reject Faith say: “What means Allah by this similitude?” By it He causes many to stray, and many He leads into the right path; but He causes not to stray, except those who forsake (the path), (Al Baqarah 26)

As I sat in the law school courtyard one morning, pondering over my Property reading, I was (not surprisingly) distracted by a huge bumblebee undertaking an impossible task. Wings buzzing at top speed, she was attempting, quite unsuccessfully, to fly into a closed window. I’m assuming she didn’t realize that she was trying to cross clear glass instead of clear air, but she was persistent nonetheless.

At first, it was hilariously amusing. She’d smack straight into window, fly around a little, then try again and smack straight into it. Bzzzzzzzz – smack! – bzzzzzzzz – smack!

But as my unruly mind started to wander, it stopped being funny.

This poor bee was attempting, with every beat of her wings, to grasp that fleeting mistress that every living creature wants from the depth of its existence. Sakoon.

I cannot translate this word directly into English. Sukoon is a softening calmness, a cooling peace of the soul. It at once encompasses freedom and restraint, as a heart with sukoon is free to love, live and worship and also restrains itself from anger, envy, and discontent. It fortifies a creature’s trust in God and thus his or her ability to have faith in Him. When God allows us to feel moments of sukoon in this life, it’s like a little gift, a taste of what bounties Paradise will hold.

This bumblebee was in a state of unrest and despair. She was trying with every ounce of her strength to reach her destination, her place of sukoon, but there was something invisible blocking her path. But she kept trying, literally throwing herself into her task, determined to find a way no matter how much it hurt.

In a few minutes, she had figured it out. This path was closed to her; there would be no success there. She turned around and flew away to find another path to get home. Her wings must have been aching with pain, her body bruised from her efforts, but she refused to give up. She would find her sukoon, somehow, because if God closed one path to her, He would surely open up another.

Salam ‘Alaiki, ya sayaddati. How many lessons you taught me that morning.

Masjid Al-Amawi, Damascus, Syria. This is the artwork on the building inside the courtyard which serves as the Musallah.

My friend Inji recently asked for this story, so I’m sharing it here as well. I heard it from Sheikh Hamza Yusuf at the “Reviving the Islamic Spirit” conference in Toronto. Sheikh Hamza said that scholars aren’t sure if it’s exactly true, but the fact that it is in a lot of scholarly books shows that they thought it was a very important story and lesson I’ll try to remember it as accurately as possible. The pictures are from Masjid Al-Amawi in Damascus, because it is a masjid that used to be a church. It’s a beautiful blend of cultures and architecture, with one steeple and one minaret. Muslims believe that the prophecy of Jesus returning to the world “between the two white minarets” refers to this mosque. John the Baptist’s head is entombed there, and Pope John Paul II visited it in 2001.

There was a man named Sheikh Daud Al-Baghdadi, known as a very noble and learned scholar. He had memorized entire tracts of Hadith and was a Hafidh – he had memorized the entire Qur’aan and had even mastered all of the seven different methods of reciting it. Sheikh Daud was famous for his ability to teach people about Islam and for the thousands of people who had converted to Islam after learning from him.

Sheikh Daud and some of his students were traveling to visit villages around the land to teach and convert them to Islam. when they came upon a village they knew to be Christian. They stood on a small hillock overlooking the village, resting for a while before they went in. Soon, they went down to the village and entered the gate and looked for someone to speak to. They saw a young peasant girl, very modestly dressed in plain clothing. She welcomed them in and drew water from the well to give them.

Sheikh Daud began to stare at her, gazing at her intently. His students were horrified that he was so openly and blatantly staring at a woman. “Ya Sheikh!” they cried, “We are taught to lower our gaze! Why are you staring at this woman!” “She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he responded. “Ask her to take me to her father, for I wish to marry her.”

Say to the believing men that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty: That will make for greater purity for them. And Allah is well acquainted with all that they do. The Holy Qur’an, Chapter 24, “The Light,” Verse 30

The girl agreed to take the group to her father, but Sheikh Daud insisted that his students leave without him. At this point, they were incredulous and insisted upon staying until they could all leave together. He demanded that they leave, however, and continue with their work. “I’ll catch up with you in a few days,” he said. They agreed and left.

It became a few days, a week, a month, and there was no sign of Sheikh Daud. His students were very worried, and decided to go back and search for him.

The lines of intricately carved columns in Al-Amawi’s courtyard.

As they made their way back to the village, they saw a man sitting under a tree while pigs roamed in the field in front of him. “Perhaps he has heard of our Sheikh Daud,” they thought.

They were shocked when they arrived at the tree and found that the man was actually Sheikh Daud. He looked aged, the light of happiness had gone from his face, and he was wearing a large cross. Horrified, they asked him “Ya Sheikh! What happened to you? Have you left Islam?” He began to weep profusely.

“You used to know every verse of the Qur’aan,” they cried. “Do you remember any of them now?” Weeping even harder, he answered, “Wallahi, by God, I only remember one.”

Say: “O Allah. Lord of Power (And Rule), Thou givest power to whom Thou pleasest, and Thou strippest off power from whom Thou pleasest: Thou enduest with honour whom Thou pleasest, and Thou bringest low whom Thou pleasest: In Thy hand is all good. Verily, over all things Thou hast power. The Holy Qur’an, Chapter 3, “The Family of Imran,” Verse 26

His students were now weeping from sorrow. “Ya Sheikh, you used to know so many Ahadith. Do you remember any of them now?” Sheikh Daud replied “Wallahi, by God, I only remember one, that the Prophet Muhammad (S) said, ‘Whoever changed his Islamic religion, then kill him.’”

“Leave me here,” said Sheikh Daud. Full of sorrow, the men left. As they walked away, they made dua, praying, “Ya Allah, return Sheikh Daud to Islam. Bring the faith back to his heart.”

A few days later, the group heard a man calling them from behind. To their utter joy, Sheikh Daud was running towards them, face full of light and happiness. His cross was gone, and he began to weep with joy at seeing his companions.

“What happened, Ya Sheikh? What has happened to you?” They all wanted to know what had happened after they left him in the Christian village and how he came to be sitting on the hill, himself a Christian, and watching a group of pigs. He began to tell them the story.

The girl had taken Sheikh Daud to her father’s house. Much to the Sheikh Daud’s surprise, the peasant girl’s father was the chief of the town. The Christian chief invited him to sit and welcomed Sheikh Daud as a friend.

Sheikh Daud was very surprised about one thing. “Good sir, you are the ruler, and your daughter is the princess of this village. Why do you dress her so plainly, in course clothing, and make her work like a servant, pulling well water for visitors?”

“Because I want her to learn humility,” said the chief. “She is no better than the rest of my people for being the daughter of the chief. All are equal in the sight of God.”

I love the mix of curves and straight edges in the architecture

Sheikh Daud was now even more moved by the girl’s character as he had been by her beauty, and he asked her father for the girl’s hand in marriage.

“I can see that you are a good man,” said the chief, “but I have a few conditions. Before you marry my daughter, you must become Christian and you must care for my herd of pigs.” Sheikh Daud agreed to the chief’s conditions.

“How did you agree to this?” cried Sheikh Daud’s students. “How could you leave your faith, watch pigs, lose everything you once were?” Sheikh Daud patiently explained.

“Do you remember when we were standing on that hillock, looking at the village before we entered? At that time, I thought to myself, ‘Look at these people. They are Christian. We are so much better than them, because we have Islam.’ At that time, I felt my faith fly out of my heart like a bird. My experience at the village was Allah’s way of punishing me, teaching me how to be humble like the Christians in that village were. Allah was removing my arrogance of thinking that I was better because I was Muslim. And if it were not for your fervent dua, I would still be there.”

The minarets at Al-Amawi glow in the night after Maghrib prayer.