It was my birthdayJune 14and it was two days after one of the most horrific tragedies to occur any community. But this tragedy was perpetrated by a member of one of my communities against another of my communities. You see, I live at a cross-section of two seemingly irreconcilable identities: I am a lesbian and I am Muslim. The Orlando shootings shook both of my identities to the core. I had to do something, we had to do something.
And so, with my heart bouncing between my throat, my hands and my sleeve, I agreed with my girlfriend Fawzia Mirza, to host an open and honest dialogue between members of the LGBTQ Muslim community and key leaders from the mainstream Muslim community. At the beginning of the evening I opened up to the crowd and told them that I was a "new lesbian and an old Muslim." After Sunday I felt that my feet were in two separate camps and that the ground underneath each was rapidly disappearing quicksand. How do I coexist in both of these spheres, how do I be authentically Muslim and authentically LGBTQ?
What followed was an evening filled with voices from the fringes of these two communities that were resoundingly heard by those living in the center of the mainstream Muslim community of Chicago. Remarkably, and apparently for the first time, prominent leaders of mainstream Muslim places of worship listened in an uneasy but respectful silence as LGBTQ members in the room delivered one harrowing account after another of wanting to reconcile these two identities with each other. The bravery and sheer mettle of the LGBTQ members in the room took my breath away.
There were many firsthand accounts of our need and desire to be in communion at mosques and our real fears and experiences of not being welcomed or even actively ostracized. And so, it was gratifying to have it acknowledged by a member of a mainstream Muslim organization that yes, indeed, the majority of mosques in the Chicago-land area did not welcome LGBTQ members. There was some modicum of dissent to this viewpoint but it was drowned out by the chorus of LGBTQ voices that agreed that this was their own specific and personal experiences.
It was an extraordinary display of solidarity and an astonishing number of people came forward to share opinions, personal stories, ask questions, and relate to each other. And then all of a sudden, there was a call to prayer and it came to an end.
The immediate aftermath of the gathering for me is both a sense of elation and a sense of foreboding. I am elated and truly excited at the idea that we may have started something new. Could we become part of a movement for change, tolerance and acceptance? Wouldn't that be an amazing accomplishment? One thing is cleara single meeting is not enough and there needs to be a commitment from all concerned to continue the conversation. This was the first of what I hope will be many such gatherings. Fawzia Mirza and I are more than happy to serve as conduits for these discussions and to honor the stories of those willing to bring them to us.
My sense of trepidation comes from the fact that I very publicly and in no uncertain terms planted my feet more firmly in both camps. I do not have any fears of reprisals for my stance from the LGBTQ communitymy connections there are solid and supportive, I remain unclear as to the reception I will receive from my mosque. Just last night after the late-night prayers, a friend I pray with and who has been aware of my LGBTQ identity quipped that if the mosque leaders didn't know about me before they certainly do now! And then there is the issue of my family who all live overseas. I have an upcoming visit with them that could prove uncomfortable if they bring up my recent outing of myself to all concerned. We will wait and see.
I started the evening afraid of what might transpire, in the end, was filled with a sense of relief, hope, and purpose. There was none of the expected hate or hard feelings, only past hurts and a genuine desire to progress towards a time when we have harmony and validation of all of our identities.
Nabeela Rasheed, PhD., JD is a British born Pakistan American. She spent her formative years and early career in the United Kingdom, where she grew up in a traditional Muslim household. After completing a PhD in Biochemistry at Liverpool and a post-doctoral fellowship in Bristol she moved to the U.S. over 20 years ago. She now is a partner in the patent law firm McAndrews, Held & Malloy in Chicago.