The Islam we live!
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Throughout the course, I often reflected on the version of Islam that I grew up with. I even discussed this with my mom, and now, after reading For the Love of God, I realize that many Iranians—regardless of factors such as gender or place of living—share similar experiences. The text’s examination of Iranian trans people was particularly interesting to me, and there are some points I’d like to explore further regarding this reading.
Reflection on Islam and Identity
First, I want to address the version of Islam I mentioned at the beginning of this post. The first time I truly reflected on my Muslim identity was in the second grade of high school during one of my EFL (English as a Foreign Language) classes at the Iran Language Institute (ILI). The ILI has an interesting history. Initially known as the “Iran-USA Anjuman,” it underwent multiple name changes until 1979, when it became the ILI and was affiliated with the Ministry of Education. As a government-controlled institute, it embodies certain unique characteristics:Boys and girls attend separate schools, and classes are strictly single-gendered.
Girls are required to wear proper hijab, despite the schools being gender-segregated (due to the presence of male teachers or admin staff).
Working there is considered prestigious due to higher salaries and benefits compared to private schools. Employees must not only be well-educated but also adhere to certain ideological or religious values.One of my teachers posed an intriguing question during class: “Do you think we are Muslims or merely Muslim-borns?” This prompted me to think deeply, not only about the question itself but also about my classmates’ reactions. Some firmly believed they were Muslims, others saw themselves as only Muslim-borns, and a few, like me, had no clear answer. I found it thought-provoking that a teacher would raise such a question in that context, where being a practicing Muslim was often taken for granted. This question made me contemplate my relationship with Islam for some time.
I began observing my family and relatives and noticed a recurring pattern: religious mothers and atheist or agnostic fathers. This made me revisit the question—are we Muslim-borns? I also reflected on why grandmothers tend to be deeply religious while grandfathers often seem more "open-minded" (to borrow my high-school terminology). Within families, religion often became a source of serious conflict. It was common to see men mocking women for their prayers or religious practices, a dynamic I believe persists even today.
The Trans Experience in Iran
Another aspect of the text that resonated with me was its discussion of trans experiences in Iran. While gender-affirming surgery is legally permitted, societal acceptance remains fraught with challenges.I recall a popular movie I loved as a child, around the age of 8 or 9. I rewatched it so many times that I memorized entire dialogues, reciting them alongside the actors. The main plot focused on a couple seeking therapy for their marriage, but embedded within the story was the narrative of a trans man pursuing gender-affirming surgery. Reflecting on it now, I see how the movie subtly depicted the complex relationship between Islam and trans individuals.
Key moments from the movie stand out:
- The trans character, referred to as “he,” insists, “I’m a she, not a he.”
- They express frustration, saying, “Everyone is imposing something on me—my mother, my family, everyone. Now you’re imposing something on me too!”
- They reveal bruises on their body and express their attraction to men.
- They recount their mother’s reaction: crying and cursing while praying, removing their scarf, cutting their hair while they sleep, and destroying items they purchased with their trans friends.
- In a pivotal scene, another man comments, “Men do not cry,” criticizing their appearance and gestures. To defend themselves, the trans character shows their surgery note, affirming their identity and intention to undergo surgery.
At the time, when we watched this movie, most people paid little attention to the trans narrative, often laughing at the character’s mannerisms and gestures. Now, after reading For the Love of God, I see how societal perceptions complicate the already challenging process for trans individuals, even when the government legally permits gender transition. This societal resistance adds additional layers of difficulty.
Progress and Remaining Challenges
Although Iranian society has made strides in addressing these issues, thanks to education and social media, there is still a long way to go. For trans individuals living outside Iran, it’s understandable that they may struggle to believe in this progress, given the deeply entrenched societal views they left behind. The fear of returning home and facing harm is rooted in the complex interplay of family dynamics, gendered Islam, and societal expectations in Iranian culture. This makes collective societal adaptation incredibly challenging.