I have not been a hijabi for long. I remember the days of short sleeves and shorts, bare arms and legs, and I was comfortable then; then my desires changed, and here I am, two years later, wearing a piece of cloth around my head that has contributed greatly, and continues to contribute greatly, to the person I am and the person I want to be.

Now, the thought of exposing myself in public spaces makes me uncomfortable, though it did not in the past, because my body has taken on a new meaning to me through my religion (specifically Islam, for the people that love to generalize and orientalize Eastern religions). Wash. U. claims to be an inclusive place, but is it really inclusive if it leaves us hijabi women as an afterthought?

Habif Health and Wellness Center gave free flu shots to students over a four day sequence these past few weeks. None of them incorporated a space for covered Muslim women to uncover, which is purely unjust. It surprises me that Habif did not take the diverse communities they are treating into consideration. Body positivity, mental health, diversity and inclusion — all things that Habif boasts, but can it meet them? Diversity and inclusion is more than simply acknowledging and appreciating differences, it means going above and beyond to consider how a person of a particular identity would feel in a given scenario. When a hijabi girl is forced to expose a part of her body that she has grown to see as private, humiliation, discomfort and feelings of exclusion ensue.

Some of you may read this and ridicule my words. I am no stranger to discrimination or outright bigotry from students on this campus. If you are one of these students, this matter simply does not concern you, and it is not my responsibility nor my desire to explain my perspective to you. I am here to advocate for myself and others like me.

I still took my flu shot, strangers staring and giggling, because my religion tells me to prioritize my well-being and vaccinations fall under that category. But this is not a choice I should have to make, nor can I speak for all hijabi women on this campus, who may have made a different decision to avoid the same humiliation I felt.

UPDATE: Habif has issued an apology and said they did not advertise that the shots could actually be done in their clinic, for free. Had they advertised this more broadly, other hijabis might have gotten the vaccination, and I could’ve done it privately. Although I appreciate that the option was available, I ask Habif next time to consider their audience in advertising, and perhaps go as far as to show their commitment to diversity and inclusion, and create a small, private space for hijabi women. This may appear to be a simple misunderstanding on my part for “not doing my research,” but it acts as a microcosm for the general disregard for the outreach towards Muslim women.
Thank you.