The Expressions Narrative Project is a platform dedicated to the voices and perspectives of Muslim women, from activists and artists to professors and political representatives. This blog showcases personal narratives expressing Muslim women's thoughts, opinions, and lived experiences.
Our strength and our wisdom will light up the way, shaping tomorrow through all that we say.
Together, as Minnesotans, we guide one another, with compassion and truth for each sister and brother. We show that true strength is kindness in deed, and every choice helps shape what we need.
The reason I am standing where I am today is because women-led organizations within the community were providing services and support to Muslim survivors. These organizations created spaces where women could seek help without shame and begin rebuilding their lives with dignity. later had the privilege of beginning my career at the very organization that once supported me as a client, which has been one of the most meaningful full-circle moments of my life.
Read MoreOur hands can deliver food to a neighbor. They can hold the hand of someone who is afraid. They can knock on a door or write a letter to an elected official. They can raise a sign, fill out a public comment form, help someone register to vote, or testify before our government. And our hands can fill out a ballot. Our faith does not teach us to see what is happening around us and become indifferent. It teaches responsibility. For me, civic participation is one way I live out that responsibility.
Read MoreDespite progress in the early 2000s and increased encouragement, many girls were and continue to be subversively discouraged from the sciences. Over time, my outward confidence and passion for science pulled more and more inward, particularly when seeing how few girls were in robotics class, playing chess after school, or going to math team tournaments. Despite my love of science, one of the subconscious lessons I struggled with at that time was, “If you can’t keep up with the boys, you should probably just stay quiet.”
Read MoreThe fact that my friends and I had all been silent survivors of sexual violence is no coincidence. The systems of patriarchy around us would rather we stay quiet than confront the realities of what women experience. Naming what has harmed us, questioning the roles we've been expected to play, and envisioning something different all challenge a system that benefits from our silence. Because once we speak, it becomes harder to ignore the changes that justice requires.
Read MoreOn the 1st of December, 2024, I was out with my cousin when we had just started hearing about the resistance in Aleppo. We’d gathered our political information the same way we always had, via conversations with people who seemed to know more about the topic somehow and the Facebook groups where people either voiced their concerns or poked fun at the fact that nobody really understood what was going on at the core of the matter. People were saying that Aleppo was now “free”; we couldn’t quite comprehend that. There had been so many attempts at our liberation that we came to see any further ventures as distant and indiscernible.
Read MoreWriting poetry helped me find my voice. I hope my poem gives courage to every child like me who has ever felt different, afraid, or left out. I want people to choose kindness over hate, stand up for one another, and remember that no matter our race, religion, culture, or where we come from, we all belong.
Read MoreThe afternoon of the first general strike in Minnesota since 1934, I stood on the back of a truck. It was January 23rd, and people from across the state of Minnesota poured into the streets of downtown Minneapolis. There were tens of thousands of us. We were there because we were angry, because we had enough of ICE kidnapping our neighbors. Because we were sick of watching masked men and women harass and intimidate our communities.
Read MoreInstead, Renee—alongside her wife—stood with other observers and protestors. Surrounded, boxed in, her final words were, “That's fine, dude. I'm not mad at you.” offering even the agents who trapped her a wish for peace. Her courage, her insistence on truth, her commitment to her immigrant white, Brown, and Black neighbors shook something awake in my sister, in me, and in millions around the world.
Read MoreLike many immigrant families, finances weren't discussed openly in our home, particularly with daughters. This cultural silence around money matters extended even to religious financial obligations like zakat. Although zakat is a fundamental pillar of Islam required of all Muslims regardless of gender, the practical aspects of calculating and fulfilling it were not taught to me. This omission reflects a broader pattern where financial acumen wasn't considered essential knowledge for young women. As I entered adulthood, I found myself unprepared not only for basic financial responsibilities but also for properly fulfilling my religious obligations related to wealth.
Read MoreSeeing my parents succeed in their small businesses infected me with the same entrepreneurial bug. From a young age, I wanted to do my own thing and be my own boss. I would pitch my ideas to my mom, and if she liked my pitch, she would lend me a few dollars to get started. I was always a great saleswoman, so I would use her loan to buy stock—clothing, jewelry—and sell it to my friends and my peers.
Read MoreI feel like my mom had many lives and transformed into many people from decade to decade. My mom became a single mother after divorcing, lost some of her children through childbirth, murder, and health conditions, raised two Deaf children and made sure they were educated in American Sign Language and Deaf culture. Yet against the odds, my mother developed into a saintly, streetwise, strong Black Muslim woman who held her family down and prayed for them and cared for so many other people.
Read MoreThe accident left me in the burn center for two months before I was sent to a nursing home in a wheelchair. From 2014 until 2017, I was immobile, spending most of my time in bed with a nurse at my side. For someone who used to go to the gym every day and run 10 miles at a time, this period in my life was awful. I had very little family or community here, so I turned to Masjid An-Nur and Imam Makram El-Amin looking for support. By turning to my faith and my faith community during this time, I finally started to feel like the world was not just beating me up. I stopped feeling sorry for myself and began to accept that Allah was now pulling me closer to Him.
Read MoreMy ancestors were brought to this country from West Africa. Many records were destroyed or not properly maintained, so I might not be able to tell you exactly which country my family originated from, but I know that my family has been mixed race since the 1800s. That doesn’t make me any less African American.
Read MoreWealth is commonly linked to masculinity due to historical expectations of men taking on the role of financial decision-makers, both in the home and in the professional world. I used to shy away from anything to do with finances because I was intimidated by my lack of knowledge on the topic. However, the halal investing space has grown, and the resources are more accessible now than at any other time. There’s no reason for women to stay away from investing and growing their wealth.
Read MoreNo need for my whole Palestinian name,
just use my first and last.
No need to introduce the olive trees
or the destruction on every home,
For those need no introduction;
everyone should already know
of the boys holding slingshots and stones,
and the ice cream trucks with bodies instead of cones.
It’s a conversation beyond old,
But not as old
as Palestinian bones.
As I read my way through the books in my high school library, I saw a stark disconnect between Muslims in the media and the everyday Muslims I saw in my community. Mainstream books skew Islam as either 1) a backward culture that the protagonist must overcome and redefine or 2) a superficial aesthetic in which Arabic or South Asian names and Islamic architecture are used, while everyday practices like prayer, charity, or hijab are foregone. This observation paved the way for Shaherazad Shelves years later.
Read MoreFrom puberty, most books, parents, and teachers prepare us to expect cramps, clots, heavy bleeding, and cycle irregularities as our womanly initiation. The messaging that “normal is whatever is normal for you” has left many of us doubled over in pain, passing out, and debilitated by our time of the month. We are taught to medicate our pain from early on, and particularly challenging periods are often met with another prescription—birth control—though used for non-contraceptive reasons. But what if we saw period pain as any other type of pain—a red flag, a warning, a call for attention? What if we treated heavy period bleeding with the urgency of a hemorrhage? How would we feel about our periods if we saw them as an indicator of our health instead of a nuisance to it?
Read MoreIt was through conversations with fellow Muslim women entrepreneurs that I noticed a trend. Many of us weren't fully utilizing our potential. We hesitated to apply professional business strategies, believing our businesses were too niche. This mindset, I realized, was really holding us back.
Read MoreAll that I know about community care and community service is what I learned from the example of my grandparents and my parents. They taught me that we each have a duty to use our particular talents in service of our people. Since my grandfather was a chef in the navy and my grandmother was a kitchen manager for a nursing home, a major part of their contribution to the community was cooking. They would spend hours in the kitchen preparing meals to give away.
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