Following Monday night’s debate, I know many people feel disheartened by the current state of our beloved union. We’re all reeling from the obvious questions – when did the political process of the world’s foremost authority start to resemble a reality show? What has happened to our democratic electoral system? How did a bouillon cube escape from the kitchen and end up on stage?
All of these are pressing concerns to the average American citizen – but as many of you already know, I am not the average American citizen, at least not in Mississippi. You all probably think I’m most concerned with my well being as a Muslim in light of Trump’s divisive comments and ideologies.
Well, let me put your minds at ease. Since the election season started, I’m mostly just fascinated by the many ways I resemble a certain candidate:
We’re not the best under pressure, but we’ll keep pretending to be. Since I started college three years ago, I’ve put an offensive amount of trust in the whole “fake it till you make it” concept. For me, this generally means smiling brightly in spite of pulling three all-nighters in one week. For Trump, it means pretending to have the expertise to be trusted with nuclear launch codes. Trump’s fakery could result in mass chaos and cause some serious damage. My fakery also results in those things because it typically consists of tweeting TMI things about nasal decongestant spray and mozzarella sticks. It’s okay – I don’t really have the time for a social life, anyway.
Toupees and Hijabs are basically the same thing. While we’re on the subject of faking things, we’re all very familiar with Trump’s toupee. We’re even more familiar with the speculation surrounding it. Though not quite as high profile, my scalp and the piece of cloth wrapped around it have inspired some of their own speculation. I have been asked if I’m bald or hiding a tumor. Never directly, of course – people tend to ask my close friends instead. If you are horribly confused by Islam and hijabs and deep conditioning methods, you can thank my friends.
IDs are necessary because I’m too awkward to correct people. There’s a boy on campus who never fails to say hello to me. He’s the nicest guy, really. His face lights up every time he sees me, and he always tries to strike up a conversation – no matter how often I look away and regardless of whether or not I have ear buds on (How can you tell when a hijabi has ear buds on? You can’t, unless they’re white or you look really, really closely. Fun fact: wearing white ear buds is actually a sign of assimilation. You’re welcome.)
Anyway – there’s a boy. And he always says hello. And whoever is walking with me at the time will inevitably snigger very loudly when he does. Why?
He thinks my name is Courtney.
I don’t know why or how it started, but because I answered to it the very first time, and it would be too awkward to correct him now, I am cursed to lead a double life.
I tell you all this to say that if Trump wants Muslims to wear IDs, I’m totally down for it.