Hijab in the OR

Its been 13 years since I started wearing hijab. I thought I had reached an ultimate comfort level with it some time ago, after years of finally convincing myself that short sleeves had to go, experimenting with different styles including the infamous twirly (why oh why??), and feeling that strong conviction in my heart finally settle in. Lately, however, things are changing.

For the first time in years, I find myself questioning my decision against the symbolic weight of what this piece of cloth means in the socio-political realm. My friends and family may be surprised by such a statement for hijab is something I've worn with confidence and pride, I think, over the years. Hijab has provided for me religious expression and a sign of devotion, identity and strength. But I'm slowly realizing that I am not immune to the political climate of the world and thus cannot continue acting like its so easy to separate myself from current events.

The world is a different place. Its been three weeks since the London bombings, the eve of which marked my first night on call on the Labor and Delivery floor of my first ever rotation in med school. I no longer find myself in the microcosm of the lecture hall, where my peers knew me as a whole person, not just a visible Muslim face. In this little world, time allowed us to get to know each other, and to view each with fairness and the chance to discover each other, our experiences and our realities. We had time to talk about religion and the world (between continuous studying and pulling countless all nighters).

Enter the OR, the fast paced world of ob/gyn, residents, nurses (and an attending here or there) running like maniacs from one end of the wing to the next. Here, there is simply no time to sit down and "get to know" one another. At times, a brief 'hello' and 'how are you' is much appreciated. Not only that, but I'm definitely out of my comfort zone. Its downright awkward trying to introduce yourself to a team of nurses when a lady is about to push something the size of a pineapple out her you-know-what... No one cares who the heck you are, grab a suction bulb and get in line!

And so, as I walk into the OR today for my fifth official gynecology case, I am rudely awakened by the scrub nurses shrill voice: "who are you?" (who am I again?) 'Oh, I'm the medical student' I stammer, 'I'm scrubbing into this case'. I get the up and down and she pronounces 'Well you cant walk in like that, this is a sterile field. Now I don't know if that (giving me the pointy gesture) headgear is for religious reasons or whatever, but you need to get sterile.' My hijab is encased in a blue-for-sterile bonnet type thing that makes me look like a freakn' astronaut... Not that anyone looks like a model in this place. We're all pretty ridiculous in the OR so it hasn't bothered me up to this point.... 'This is the 5th case I've been in and I've never had a problem with it'.... The surgeon looks over and suddenly I've gotten everyone's attention (well, except the patient who's out cold). After a few moments of unwanted attention, I suddenly realize I had not tucked my hijab into my shirt and quickly do so. 'Ok, that's better, we just don't like things hanging out everywhere....' and she turns back to counting something or the other.

I start thinking about it during the surgery (between being asked questions about the fascia, ligaments and blood supply of the uterus..... which wasn't going so well either). It was a benign exchange, wasn't it? Why was it bothering me so? Why was I so agitated by such an exchange when I had dealt with much more in my past? I realize this: I'm just not comfortable talking about hijab, or sometimes even Islam anymore. In high school and college, I had formulated a meticulous and diplomatic way of articulating my reasons for wearing it and painted a positive picture of its role in Islam. But as these words escape my lips lately, I can see skepticism in my audience. People aren't buying it, no matter how true my words are to me. The media and news, images of war and recent events in London just wont allow it. People see what they want to see, and associate my hijab with their own feelings of fear and anger. And honestly, can I blame them??? When I see the sheer horror of what "Muslims" are doing to other innocent human beings? We are creatures of observation - we observe our environment and take everything in. No matter how much we talk about whats right with Islam and how Muslims are "supposed" to act, individuals of somewhat normal intelligence WILL question how this all adds up?

Its harder and harder to defend the acts of Muslims these days. Being such a visible emblem of Islam has never before made me feel so defenseless, tired and forlorn. I know that I am a representative of my religion and have the potential to show Islam in a truly positive light. Quite simply, however, I am just tired. I am sick of the responsibility and the weight of the world on my shoulders.

We're now at a point where whatever progress we have made in the past, be it through interfaith events and dialogue, big publicized events or simple or beautiful individual friendships based on understanding and tolerance, seem thwarted by acts of terrorism we seem to encounter on a weekly basis. At times such as these, I feel I can no longer bear this responsibility anymore. I just want to take the easy route - look NORMAL for once, not have to worry about if my shirt might be a tad too fitted or if my skirt a little too high when im sitting or if my hijab is sticking out of my scrubs. Sometimes I'd like to just meet a person and NOT inspire a multitude of questions i can see brewing in their eyes.

its a funny blend of paranoia, reverse 'racism' and hypervigilence.... but its the lives that many visible muslims are living today, no doubt. I know I am not alone in this test. I can only pray that such negative energy passes soon and that one day I will again proudly stick out in the crowd once again.... And hopefully the world will be a safer and happier place to live in.