Skin is Skin
Salma Habeeb2011ContestsWinter 2011 ContestFirst Person
The class was called The Evolution of Feminism; it was naïve of me not to expect something like this to happen. All winter long, my female classmates impugned the male species with an intensity that bordered on hysteria. Men, the oppressors. Men, the rapists. Men: scumbag slimebally evil creatures. The few boys taking this class—like me, they must have enrolled to satisfy the gender studies requirement—listened to the ranting unperturbed, as if the species discussed had nothing in common with them. Being the power majority can make you sanguine that way.
But now the topic was not men. Julia, the emaciated white girl who liked to weave tiny tinkling wind-bells through her scruffy hair, announced: “Burkas and hijabs are articles of oppression. Women who wear them are abused.”
Blood rushed to my face. I was the only woman in that class who wore a headscarf. The only Muslim in the class, actually. As the discussion ensued—“Hijabs must be banned! The U.S. must step in!”—I felt as if I were being stripped naked and laid out on display. My fingertips tingled; my brow grew damp. Anger rippled through me. How dare they? I busied myself with some papers on my desk, pretended there was something really important on one page, which I underlined and highlighted and doodled around with such severity, the pen tore through the page.
And then Rachel spoke up. “It’s unfair,” she said in that thoughtful, measured tone of hers, “to use our social norms as a measuring stick. How do we, who aren’t of the Islamic faith, know what’s best for them? We don’t even understand their culture and feel justified in making decisions for them? We’re being presumptuous and nationalistic and arrogant.”
The silence dropped, like a sudden fog, into the room. If it were anyone else, perhaps the impact wouldn’t have been as paralyzing. But this was Rachel. The Jewish woman. The conspicuously Jewish woman. Who brazenly wore skirts and hose among the sea of jeans and sweats. Her sticking up for Islamic culture was not only astonishing because of the Israel/Arab situation, but also because as a woman whose clothing choices were dictated and restricted by religion, she, too, could easily be counted among the oppressed and abused this discussion was targeting.
The discussion petered out after that. But my heart continued to hammer. Had Rachel noticed my distress? Was it possible that her speaking up had anything to do with me? The thought sent electric zings through my insides.
Later, at lunchtime I spotted Rachel in the cafeteria. She sat at one of the tiny round tables reading a paperback, steam rising out of a foam cup in front of her. I was with my friends, all Muslims, like me. Presumably, one of the advantages of attending a city college was that I would expand my network of friends, but as it turned out, I was hanging out with the same group of girls all the time. Three of us had been to high school together and lived within blocks of each other. The other two, Nyla and Sofia, were from families our parents socialized with. Of all of us, Sofia (who called herself Sophie at college) was the only one who didn’t wear a headscarf. Her hair, wavy and black, bounced against her shoulders, free, loose. Sophie was telling a story about a guy who threw up on the train, but I was only partially listening. I noticed Rachel looking up from her paperback. When her eyes caught mine, she gave a little smile and trilled her fingers at me. I raised my palm in response.
It meant nothing, of course. But there was something in that gesture, something in the way Rachel’s expression turned suddenly kind when she noticed me… and suddenly, I just knew. Knew it with a certainty so absolute, it was as if a Divine voice had whispered it into my ear: Rachel had protested the hijab discussion because of me.
She did not—could not!—be aware of my love for her. Her speaking up was an act of compassion. My core flamed with the knowledge.
* * *
My father is a surgeon. Mainly, he “rearranges” rich women’s faces and bodies, but sometimes he removes cancerous moles or assists with a child’s cleft palate repair, and on those days, his legs are wings. Which is to say, my dad feels good when he does good. He is a good man. A good husband, a good father, a good friend, a good man. And he hates all Jews. Indiscriminately. I do not know how to stack these different facts in my mind.
From when I was little, I had always known I was my father’s daughter. Not only did I look like him, but I also had his talents and his nature. I was a genius at mathematics, and sketched grids and pictures with computer-like precision, just like my dad did. “You’ll make a perfect plastic surgeon,” people always told me, “exactly like your dad.”
I was my father’s daughter. Rachel was a Jew. And I loved Rachel. How does one braid such disparate statements, plait them into a solid whole?
My love for Rachel wasn’t sexual in the accepted definition of the word. I had no desire to sleep with her or have any sort of physical relationship with her (or, for that matter, with any woman). But ever since the semester started, I had become hyper-aware of her presence. In my fantasies, I concocted long, detailed, deep conversations with her, baring my soul to her, staring into her wise eyes, listening to her wise advice. When I stepped into one of the classes we shared, I instinctively scanned the room for her, my heart thumping against my ribs in anticipation. Is there a term for this sexual/non-sexual love dynamic? Perhaps. I have never learned it. And I have never since felt this way about any other woman I encountered.
* * *
That evening at dinner, my dad told us he’d been offered a position at another medical facility. The pay would be better and he’d be included in all of the administrative decisions.
“That’s awesome,” I said, between bites of salad.
But no, there was a problem. “The facility is in that rich Jewish neighborhood,” my dad said, naming an area in Brooklyn that teemed with dark-browed women wearing slouchy Chanel purses. “My patients will likely be Jews.”
“So? It’s business. Money is money.”
“No, no. To touch a Jew’s skin…” My dad’s mouth twisted into an exaggerated grimace. “Maybe money is money, but skin isn’t skin. If I work on a Jew’s skin, I’ll know. I’ll feel it. Ugh, toxic.” He shuddered. “I’ll wait. Another opportunity will come up.”
I flung my fork onto my plate. It clanged loudly and my mother glanced up from her plate. She looked at me for a moment and continued eating calmly. I could not believe it. My brilliant dad, my loving mom—this all made perfect sense to them.
At night in bed, I imagined that Rachel had witnessed the dinner scene. I pictured her reasonable voice explaining to me that humans are flawed, that we are capable of overlooking another’s flaws because we are human ourselves.
“But how,” I asked her in my fantasy, “do I justify my love for my dad? How can I rationalize loving a man who hates?”
And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t fantasize an answer coming out of Rachel’s mouth.
* * *
I stood in line at the cafeteria, trying to quiet my growling stomach. Sofia and Nyla were already at our usual table, and the others were somewhere in the queue behind me. As I juggled the contents on my tray, I spotted Rachel coming through the doors.
“Salma,” she said, when she saw me.
My name in her mouth sent my heart hammering. I said hi and she asked me a question about an assignment, which I responded to casually, though a ghost blue eddy swirled in my brain.
“Thanks,” she said. She helped me maneuver my tray onto the edge of the counter, and grasped my hand. “I’m so glad I met you now. I had no clue what Professor Caruso wanted in that assignment. Really, thanks.”
She left, then. But her shadow remained. I stared down at my hand, the hand she had patted, and wished I could preserve the memory of her touch. It was, at least, something real, something actual. More real than my most detailed fantasy.
I paid for my food and went to the table where Sofia and Nyla were already eating. Only when I sat down on the narrow metal chair that had become so familiar to me these past few months, did it occur to me that Rachel’s hand felt like any other hand. It could have belonged to Nyla or Sofia or any Jane in the planet. It was a hand. Covered by skin. And skin was skin.
29 Responses
Is this fiction? It’s pretty intense.
Wow! In Hebrew we say – “Kol Hakavod!” which means something like “Impressive! – More power to you!”. And to write this on a site catering to Ultra-Orthodox (or formerly so) Jews…
I fear that the future is horribly bleak. The people who can think rationally and morally about humankind are not the ones having lots of babies.
I have definitely seen much bigotry and hatred for others among my own co-religionists (let’s just say I lived directly downstairs from the infamous Baruch Goldstein on a well-known West-Bank settlement and I knew him by first name…). The unfortunate thing is that for every one of us who sees how our cultures and religions cause such horrible hatred and decisiveness there are 50 people who believe with such utter certainty that THEIR way is ABSOLUTE TRUTH and there is no talking to them…
Not inspiring at all. The story ends where it begins. She didn’t learn from Rachel and her father is the same hater with the continued support from his daughter. And her children will probabely go on and learn the same.
The author’s children will definitely no grow up to be haters.
The issue is that part of the religion is to hate the Jews. Anyone one who prays ( reciting koran verses) 5 times a day will have it in their subconscious.if u read the koran u will learn that it was mohamed jewish cook who poisoned him. The christians and Jews are the infidels and will be hated as long as the relgion is kept. The problem with Muslims is that their faith condones lying to be part of the social norm. So there is no such thing as a nice observant muslim. If they are nice and feel love towards a jew they are no longer religious.
I too was sympathetic to my Muslim friends in college .I understood their modesty and respected their dedication to prayer. Until another ( non religious) muslim friend taught me otherwise. Its sad but true. They must hate us if they believe in GD. (ALLA)
Julie — The problem with your thinking is that the same applies to religious Jews. And that’s not only towards Muslims but towards all non-Jews. Halacha b’yadua she’eisav soneh l’yaakov.
Lovely essay! Thank you for sharing your experiences.
I’ve gotten to know a number of Muslim people at school myself (also at a City College, one with a large Muslim contingent), but I’ve always felt a bit reluctant to get to know them better because of the vast gulf between our cultures. You’ve inspired me to reach out a bit.
There has been debates in the progressive muslim community regarding the verse in the Koran regarding jews and christians being apes, or to that affect. progressive muslims try to adhere to their traditions and religious practices all while trying not to hate those who share the planet with them. Some of my muslim friends do dislike jews who are zionists or who support them for they feel they are perpetuating the suffering of their brothers. Some hard line madrasses do teach hate just like our chedurim do. It is interesting that most jews I come in contact with do not realize the outright blind hatred or degredation they feel towards anyone not like them. especially goyim. In fact, the “blacks are the lowest of humans” and “how can you sleep/touch an arab man” comes up very often in my familys’ discussions. Muslims are as varied as jews, and both are trying to come to terms with a, what I believe, is man writted document that can be very racist, sexist and violent, while trying to bridge the gap between humans.
Salaam Salma! I’ll say MaBruk!
While reading your lovely story I almost had an urge to lean in and kiss the computer screen; and, no, not a sexual-fetish kinda kiss!
Beautiful!
BTW, many who appreciate this story may as well be interested in the movie Arranged, available free here: http://www.hulu.com/watch/225023/arranged
Great article. We need more people like you, our planet would be much more safe and peaceful!
It’s hurtful, but as much as I love my Jewish people, there is no other religion that divided the human race more than the Jewish religion. And the only way it could end is by us being truthful to ourselves, and admit that before our kids have mastered how to ride a bicycle, the already “know” that ALL “goyim” are bad, no matter of their age, color, size, profession, religion or ethnicity.
P.S. There is a great movie that’s very relevant to this article, called: ‘Arranged’. It’s about two Muslim and Jewish girls who met as teachers of the same college and became very close friends. Must watch.
http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B00116VG3M/ref=redir_mdp_mobile/178-0005482-9614370
Hasidic Rebel, your response doesn’t make much sense. You’re saying that non-Jews hate Jews, not the other way around. To be hated is not the same as to hate.
You can all talk about Jews hating goyim but it will not change the fact that Jews with all the supposed hate have never done to those they supposedly hate what all the other non-haters or less haters have done to those they supposedly don’t hate or hate very little. It all comes back to the same thing. Blame the Jews for all they got because they hated the goyim and they had a right to destroy the Jews so the Jews should become less hateful.
HR, not only do the religious Jews hate goyim they also do not believe that Jesus is God’s son and they don’t believe in the bible and they don’t believe in the Kuran. I know that you don’t think everything I listed is a problem but for others it is. Therefore, it is time to get together with everybody who has a problem with the Jews and come to a final solution, out of love of course.
This is exactly what this story is about. You have a hateful religious women standing up for a Muslim women, then you have a loving Muslim women not standing up for a Jewish women. It is the intent that counts and not the action.
Back to the story.
Anon, I like that you’re separating feelings and behavior. But in all fairness, where in the story did the author have an opportunity to stand up for the Jewish woman?
Also, I don’t think you can generalize that religious Jews hate goyim. Perhaps many do, and I’m sure many don’t, and I believe that most who proclaim to hate goyim are simply repeating generalities they’ve heard without any true emotion behind the sentiments they’re expressing.
Mechel — I cited the “halacha be’yaduah” as an example of the dogmatic belief that all non-Jews hate Jews. I thought that was pretty clear.
http://intelligencesquaredus.org/index.php/past-debates/islam/
The video at the above link is a debate over the motion “Islam is a religion of peace,” which I found quite fascinating.
What was the most interesting to me is that most of the arguments leveled against that Islam apply just as well to Christianity and Judaism. In fact, if Ultra Orthodox Judaism had been the most vocal (just as the radicals in Islam today are), and therefore the most famous, form of Judaism, I think similar debates about Judaism would become commonplace. Case in point: The photoshopped picture of Hilary Clinton in Di Tzitung.
Shmerel, thanks for the link. If you wikipedia “islam and anti-semitism,” the entry also seems to indicate that there isn’t particular hatred for Jews. Which is why I’m curious about Julie’s comment. I can’t imagine that there’s a specific commandment in the Koran that requires one to hate Jews as part of the religion.
I wish some Muslim people would comment here and provide some info.
I forgot to mention that I loved the piece. Beautiful!
Thanks, Salma. Your story brings to mind the biblical Jonathan’s love for David, object of his father’s animosity.
Beautiful article Salma. Mabrook & also Alhamdulillah! I especially loved Rachel’s trilling (thrilling!) fingers and your grateful graceful palm.
This story wonderfully expresses what I love most about NYC (some islands off the east coast of the mainland of mainstream America), the possibilities and opportunities to live outside the teevee white bread status quo and to run into others who also do so, albeit differently. The entire length of Bedford Avenue in Brooklyn being a case in point.
And Yay to you and HR for speaking love to hateful lies.
I loved this story. I also have so much difficulty reconciling good Jewish people whom I respect in every way but for their bigotry towards anything Arab or Muslim.
Ya haqq, Salma. You’ve spoken the Truth.
You love your father because he is your father. He is a kind person who loves you and cares for you. You love your friend because she is your friend. Your father has flaws, because of his upbringing. That is very sad because it’s a stain on his otherwise wonderful character.
If he met me and I didn’t say I was Jewish we’d probably get along wonderfully. I hope he has a chance to get to know a few Jewish people and get over his hatred. You know him better than we do, obviously. Maybe there will be a chance to mention that the only person who defended you and respected your beliefs was a Jewish woman.
Julie, relations between Jews and Muslims have been all over the place through history. There is no requirement in Islam that Muslims hate Jews anymore than there is a requirement that Jews treat Gentiles as less than human (according to a couple interpretations of Tanya). Hatred is a sickness that can affect anyone. The cure is for people to know each other, do things together and find their inevitable areas of common interest.
I feel gratified at the many positive comments and commendations my essay has received. The past two weeks have been busy ones for me, and I didn’t have the opportunity to thank you all. But I really am truly touched. To all of you who offered your blessings in my language, I would like to respond with “yasher koach” and “hallelujah!”
Habiba, may we all have strength, and the courage to hope and work for peace and tolerance in the face of all obstacles.
Praying no-matter-what to the father/mother god(ess)head, organizer and master/mistress of this amazing and complex and wonderful universe…..
Please grant us [both] religious and secular pathetic and remarkable souls alike mercy…
“Even if I pass through death-dark ravines, I will fear no disaster for you are with me; your rod and staff [comfort] reassure me…& surely goodness and grace will pursue me every day of my life; and I will live in the house of [THE LORD] ADONAI/ALLAH/Y-H-V-H for years and years to come.”
As an atheist, I find inexplicable comfort in psalm 23 during dark times, and as a humanist, my heart rejoices when people of strong & diverse & without faith can sit and talk and metaphorically break bread.
Hasidic rebel – as someone earlier pointed out – the halacha (rule)that esav hates us does not mean that we should hate him, but rather we should be ready for his hatred and know how to approach it. And Esav (Esau) refers to Edom (Rome)not Yishmael(Ishmael).
To the author: Thank you for your frank description of the juxtaposition of love and hate, goodness and bigotry, that exists in some communities. I have a catholic co-worker who asked me if she was in a car accident with other Jews – who would I save first, my Catholic friend or Jewish strangers? I told her my religion probably wants me to save the Jews. I would save her.
To everyone who has equated Jewish hatred vs. Moslem hatred: Imagine a hibab-wearing woman walking down a desolate Boro Park street late at night vs. a kipah-wearing Jew walking through a Moslem area late at night.
I honestly believe there is a skill to writing articles that only very few posses and honestly you got it
Beautiful!
The second surah of the Koran says that Jews are to be treated, as people of the book:
“Verily! Those who believe and those who are Jews and Christians, and Sabians, whoever believes in God and the Last Day and do righteous good deeds shall have their reward with their Lord, on them shall be no fear, nor shall they grieve.” [Quran 2:62]
(Whether they do so or not is a different question, but the scriptures aren’t describing Jews as people to be killed. I think that is interpretation based on who unbelievers are. So I couldn’t say that her children would be raised to kill Jews.)
Sam, Boro Park has women in hijabs and Coney Island Avenue has women in sheitels and they all generally remain unmolested. (Stared at perhaps.) Even after dark. The communities are adjacent to each other because the Moslems would purchase meat from kosher butchers when hallal butchers did not exist. I have never been harassed by Arab men. Have more fear from Charedim who disagree with my tznuit, but not so much in Brooklyn.
This is a lovely story Salma. Have you read The Girl In the Tangerine Scarf by Mohja Kahf? It is about an American Muslim girl who is negotiating the secular society at college while trying to hold onto a moderate version of her beliefs. The themes would be interesting to people here. There is a chapter about a short friendship with an Orthodox Jewish woman that your story reminded me of.