Islamic Center of Athens: A Look Inside

I took an Islam class last quarter with Dr. Loren Lybarger, and in each class, there was considerable effort made on his part to get his students to see Muslims as people just like them. I came into the class already open-minded about people who are different from me, and that's one of the main reasons I took the class: to learn about "other" people. What I found, though, is that there really is no "other." 

Yes, our customs and rituals may be different. But the way I see it, our beliefs may in fact be the same. There are certain beliefs that I think are innate to all of humanity, and these beliefs form the core of all religions. Humanity believes in compassion, love, understanding, justice. These things should bring us together if we share them, not tear us apart. 

The reason I included a slideshow of the Muslims of Athens praying, was for the purpose of humanizing their rituals that are too often seen as foreign. The first and most important step in debunking the myth of the "other" is education. I urge everyone to educate themselves on people they may identify as "different." Once steps are taken to learn about another culture or religion, I believe more similarities rather than differences will be found. 

This was my second time attending their Friday prayers, and I have never felt more welcome. Being inside the prayer hall, I saw people just like myself. After prayers, everyone gathered around plates of fruit, talking about their week at work, their kids, their upcoming vacations. They were most eager to talk to me, though. What questions did I have for them about their religion? Would I like to come back? Would I please help myself to more fruit?   

My virtual tour isn't enough. Everyone should take advantage of the opportunity to attend a prayer, or even just to visit the Center and talk to a member of the Muslim Students Association. Visit this link for more information about the MSA, including prayer times and events calendars. 

Where did Up in Arms go?

This is a sidebar story I wrote to supplement my story on the Israeli/Palestinian conflict, included in the March 2008 issue of the InterActivist, an entirely student-run, politically progressive magazine in Athens. 

In it, I interview Kat Primeau, who performed as Rachel Corrie in the play "My Name is Rachel Corrie" as part of her thesis. Primeau was also one of the founding members of Up in Arms, a politically progressive student theater group. Since her graduation, however, the group has been inactive. I hope someone will step up and take Primeau's place, in order to continue the group. 

Up In Arms to Remember Life, Honor Death of Activist Rachel Corrie

Danny Yahini, an Israeli-born American Jew and local contractor who recently spoke with The InterActivist about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, characterized groups working to defend Palestinian human rights as “wonderful.” Among the examples Yahini gave were the Israeli human rights group Bezelem, which literally means “in the image of [God],” Peace Now, a group of self-described “Israeli pacifists for Palestinian self-determination within the 1969 borders,” and the International Solidarity Movement, a Palestinian-led organization made up of Palestinians, Israelis and other activists from around the world.

In the course of their work, some of these groups’ members have suffered the same fate as many Palestinians subjected to foreign military occupation. Twenty-three-year-old American college student Rachel Corrie was one of those.

On March 16,2003, Corrie was killed by Israeli forces while working with the ISM. She was standing between a bulldozer and the house of a Palestinian family she knew, attempting to save the house from being demolished by the Israeli military. The bulldozer ran her over. 

To commemorate the 5^th anniversary of her death, the OU student group Up In Arms will present “My Name is Rachel Corrie,” a play based on the events leading up to Corrie’s death as told through Corrie’s own journal entries and emails. Created by Katherine Viner and Alan Rickman, the play was first staged in 2005 and has since won the Theatregoers Choice Awards for Best Director and Best New Play, as well as Best Solo Performance for actress Megan Dodds.

“[Corrie’s] argument wasn’t some competing ‘us versus them’ narrative,” said Up In Arms President Kat Primeau. “It was ‘all of us are in this together.’ She was a humanist.”

Hahne Theater in Kantner Hall on College St. will host the play.

Up In Arms first staged excerpts of the play in Athens last year. Primeau wanted to show it in its entirety this year because “it’s important that we keep having this dialogue.”

“It’s really inspirational for activists of all kinds,” said Primeau. “Not because [Corrie] is a martyr, but because she led a fulfilling life and acted on what she believed in.”

I searched Up in Arms' myspace and found the last login was March of last year. where has it gone? Kat Primeau graduated - but someone should continue with the group!

For a link to another story about the event, if it peaks interest, click here.

Dandelion Salad Tastes Good To Me.

http://dandelionsalad.wordpress.com/

This blog is something along the lines of a blog I'd be proud to call my own. It's graphically creative and the content is well-researched and often politically progressive. But above all, the writing is concise and to the point, creative and witty. The writers usually keep themselves out of their posts, bringing credibility to the table. 

One of the things I most admire about the blog is that it questions people and institutions most who are politically progressive might settle for. For example, one of the posts calls obama on his claim that the us does not torture. I admire this blog's ability to question whoever is in power, whether the writer supported that person or not. I want my blog to do the same, at a more local level. 

For instance, one of my goals for this blog might be to look at current news stories - perhaps in the post or the athens news - that I feel have been underreported or misrepresented. Maybe there is a side to that story I feel is being left out. If so, I want to elaborate on that missing piece and offer that point of view to an audience interested in hearing more than just the facts. My goal is to create a following of people who are interested in just why an event happened, not when and where and who was there. 

I tried to do that in my first two posts about the take back the night march. I hope my readers appreciated that I tried to bring a different point of view to their vision of that march and rally.

I would love to eventually import my blog to wordpress and include tabs like "books" "websites" "old blogs" etc., as this one does. I might also be able to get more creative with my web design if I had more freedom and knowledge to make that freedom work well for the message I want to send out into the world. 

Gut Check: A Poem

I attended the 2009 Take Back the Night poetry slam, originally planning on politely listening to the poetry offered by others. Toward the end, though, I got up the guts after a few, "do you have something to read?"'s. I ended up reading this poem, which I wrote in Spring 2008. I wrote it to sort out some issues I had with religion and femininity, after a particularly interesting discussion I had with my Intro to Religion professor, Dr. Loren Lybarger. 

It's called "Gut Check."

The eyes are the windows to the soul 
Yet this woman reveals hers to me, 
the only part of her body she allows me to see.

Age twelve, she screams. 
not of the pain of the knife 
but of the pain of losing what's being cut from her:
womanhood, sexuality, independence. 

Is it modesty? piety? tradition, religion.
Is it her choice? 

This woman cannot tell her own story; 
others interpret her fears, ambitions, pain.
They tell it for her. 

"She loves her veil."
"No,she hates it." 
it protects her.
no, it silences her. 

She is not the object 
of the guerilla's unyeilding desires – 
a comfort. 

At what cost must this comfort come? 
To have a voice, 
to embrace her womanhood, 
is forbidden. 

Is she happy? 
I suppose I couldn't know, 
me, the submissive, modest young woman, 
ashamed of mine.

I could cradle myself
in a nest of swaddling black robes, 
peek my eyes out 
and immerse myself in her role, 
be contented, feel relieved. 

But would she, in my baggy sweaters, 
shake herself free?
Does she crave a voice 
as I hide mine? 

Do her eyes reveal the womanhood 
I try to cover, 
veiling my curves, 
my voice, 
myself?



The book Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi includes lots of comical (and serious) commentary on the subject of the veil during the Iranian Revolution.
If you haven't already...read it. Posted below is a video of Satrapi, discussing the implications of her book and the movie on the way those who've read it view Iranians. 





"it's a movie about love, about family, about the human being"
--marjane satrapi

The "F" Word: Does "Feminism" = "F Men?"

"Out of the dorms and into the streets, we won't be raped we won't be beat!"

"Whatever we wear, wherever we go: yes means yes and no means no!"

"Women unite! Take back the night!"

TAKE BACK THE NIGHT [march and rally] 2009: Thursday, April 23

7 p.m.  [West Portico]

Women of athens speak out against domestic violence and sexual assault

(See this link for more details)

The women who met at West Portico as dusk was setting in were of all ages, races, sexual orientations, majors, income levels and education levels. They were of all body types. They had red, brown, blond, purple, and black hair. And they were all there for the same reason: very loudly and very publicly announce to the residents of athens that domestic violence and sexual assault against women must end.

The rally began with a speeches from women activists who highlighted such statistics as:

1/4 college-age women will be victims of sexual assault or attempted sexual assault

only 5% will report an incident of sexual assault to police

The goal of this was obviously to raise awareness: of the women there, each one surely had to realize how many around them had suffered such injustices. 

A man with a braided beard and whispy brown hair down to his shoulders stood quietly in the back. A sign hung around his shoulders, black , jagged sharpie letters on neon orange poster board: "men are victims too"

Few in the crowd paid him much attention.

A 5th-year senior came to the stage. "it's one thing to hear statistics," she said. "but i am the face. i'm the one in four or the one in six." 

After a speech from the organizer of the "sideline support," a group of men whose role is to encourage the women during their march, the women began their silent walk down jeff hill, holding lit candles in memory of women who lost their lives as a result of domestic violence or sexual assault. 

Tears were shed. Arms were linked. University photographers lined the sidewalks as they captured the intimate grievances of the marchers on film, soon to make their pain public: "I am marching for my mother," one face might say. another, "I am leaving him." some might be mere supporters with no first-hand experience of domestic violence or sexual assault, and therefore little concept of what this march meant to the women around them. 

It was all very moving. 

But what came next moved me, as it seemed at the time, into a completely different dimension of reality. 

Once these women had released the sadness inside of them, what remained? Candles were blown out, women were handed pieces of paper with "chant" lyrics, and the anger came out.

"1,2,3,4 I am not your fucking whore!

5,6,7,8 Why don't you go masturbate!"

...

Anger.

It has infused some of the most powerful demonstrations around the world. It evokes a Malcom X sort of feeling. The women who were expressing this anger definitely have the right to feel it (who can take away a human being's right to feel a certain emotion?). The experience of expressing that anger was liberating. You could see it in the way they yelled, in the way they cried, in the way they held onto each other as they rounded the corner of court and washington streets.

This demonstration was undoubtedly empowering for many women who participated. It might have even been scary, a leap of faith. Some might have "come out" that night, revealing to friends that they, too, had been victims of sexual assault.

This demonstration undoubtedly made men, women, bisexuals, lesbians, and transsexuals think about the rights and wrongs of expressing dissent, and dealing with conflicts in their relationships.

But here are my questions for you: did this rally and march speak out against domestic violence and sexual assault, or did it perpetuate it?

Can women's voices not only be heard, but be taken seriously, in the form of indignant anger?

I am of the opinion that women's voices must be heard. they must speak out, and those who listen must take them seriously. If men are put off by the anger that was demonstrated in the rally, perhaps it is because they have never experienced the pain these women have experienced. there is a reason for this anger. that reason must be addressed. 

But perhaps there is a reason it is not being addressed. Perhaps the indignant anger is getting in the way of the listening.

How can I possibly know what these women were feeling when they shouted those words? How can anybody know, except the women themselves? And how can anybody know, except for the men who heard these words from their houses and apartments, what it felt like to hear those words? 

For those men who walked out into the sunlight to hear such angry and demeaning words come from their peers, the "F" word has essentially been equated to "F men." 

I am of the opinion that the man with the whispy brown hair deserves a hug.

I am a feminist. next year I plan to take back the night with my compassion. Thank you to the men who have treated me well, and shown me what I deserve. 

I am a feminist.