Is The Charter still valid, Canada?

Scenario #1: Two weeks ago, when I was going back home after a long day at college I saw some very disturbing situation that I wasn’t able to do anything about. I was waiting for the pedestrian crossing light to go green, a Canadian woman with her two young daughters and a man were waiting as well. It was rush hour and everyone was either coming back from work or school. A few seconds later, a veiled (neqabi) woman appeared with her child and waited with us. In that very moment, the Canadian woman started to panic very noticeably. She freaked out and held her daughters’ hands, told them to “keep holding to her hand for now”, and walked them as far as possible from that veiled woman, and as soon as the light went green, she almost ran and kept looking behind her back every now and then to make sure “the monster/the veiled lady” isn’t any close to her or her daughters.

Scenario #2: A year and some months ago, I was a Hijabi. One day, I was waiting for my bus to come and there was a Canadian lady waiting on the same bus stop with me. The lady started a conversation with me and asked about the bus I’m waiting for; I answered her. A few minutes later, another bus come and it turned out that she misheard me because she kept saying that my bus was here, I tried to explain that she misheard me and that it wasn’t my bus, but she knocked me out with a racist comment and said: “Go back to your own country, you don’t have a place here.” She took the bus and I never saw her again.

I want to clarify something here. I am not the type of person who easily cries, I’ve never been and I will never be. It’s in my nature. Some of my friends call me “a piece of ice” because of this and because I never, if I did, cry in front of anyone. But at this very moment, in the middle of the street, I cried until my eyes burned. I cried because I felt humiliated, broken, and useless.

There are a lot of different scenarios and racist comments that I got just because I used to wear a simple piece of fabric over my head.

Racism in Canada generally, and those situations specifically make me think of the following, if Canada will forever and always be the land of democracy and freedom, and Canadians are the most accepting and open population, why is this happening? If you, Canadians, support LGBT, atheists, Jews, and the freedom of everyone else, why can’t you accept bearded men/veiled women?

In 1982, Pierre Trudeau, 15th Prime Minister of Canada, established the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms. The Charter is featured of a lot of sections that I’m not interested in mentioning but only some of them. The Fundamentals Freedoms section states that everyone in Canada has the Freedom of conscious, Freedom of religion, Freedom of thought, Freedom of belief, Freedom of expression, Freedom of the press, Freedom of peaceful assembly, and Freedom of association.

So, why wouldn’t a Muslim woman/man in Canada be able to freely express their religion through their appearance? Is it the veil/beard/headscarf? Because to be honest, I saw a lot of Jews wearing their Kippah and I’ve never heard that one of them was discriminated for wearing it. I get that it’s a “weird” thing to see for Canadians. I lived in Saudi Arabia for 8 years and I saw women wearing black abayas and veils, and it’s still weird for me to see in Canada. The difference is, I don’t freak out and panic and start acting weird.

That brings up another thought in my head, if people panic when they see a bearded/veiled Muslim, is it because “all Muslims are terrorists” or “all Muslims support/belong to ISIS” kind of assumption? Because if that’s the case, then it’s a huge problem that has to be discussed and solved. You can’t just assume that a veiled/bearded Muslim would be walking down the street with a cleaver or a Kalashnikov in their hands to cut your head off your body, just like you can’t assume that a German man is walking with a match box and a bottle of gasoline to set every Jew he sees on fire. It just doesn’t work that way.

Everyone I know, whether it’s a Muslim or not, disapproves what ISIS does, and what has been floating around about Osama Bin Laden for more than 10 years. If the racism most Muslims face here is because of a stereotype that the western media –American media to be specific- has fed your brains with, then Canada needs to pay more attention to its media and the generations that are being raised to such ideas and stereotypes. If it’s because the racist individual had a bad experience with a Muslim before, then it’s some kind of a phobia that goes under psychology, which I wouldn’t be able to talk about for lack of knowledge.

The whole thing is frustrating. Not only because I’ve been through this, but because of the contradictions between the freedom and openness that Canadians claim to have and the way they actually are. If you know anything about Canada, you’d know that Canada’s economy is actually based on immigrants and foreign people –Muslims or not- who come to work/live here. Immigrants are the most important pillar of Canada’s economy because they are basically everywhere, starting from that small grocery store in your area, to the biggest corporations in Canada. Working immigrants and the taxes they pay are why you are able to live on welfare. So, yes, I might “go back to my country because I don’t have a place here”, but I might as well take my dignity, my experience, your country’s economy, and the huge amounts of taxes I pay to keep you living on welfare with me. I, the immigrant, will go back to my country and make it a better place with a better economy; at least I’ll be a princess in my country, not a servant/immigrant in yours.  

arch-bu asked:

that was speechless, no words can describe that, may your Grandpa be In a place better than he was on earth -looking upon you waiting to proud of you, hug you when cry, hear you when you call, live through your happy moments, feel your pain, guide your life with his memorable wise words,

I’m sure he does. He’s one of my 2 guardian angels. :)

A letter that might never be read

Grandpa, it breaks my heart a little every time I think about how supportive and interested in my blog you’d be if you were still here.
You cross my mind way too often, and I’m not bothered by it at all, not in the least possible way. In fact, I’m enjoying it. It draws a smile on your “smart” granddaughter’s face.

I still remember the time when I kept telling you about that computer game I loved. I now realize that nobody really gives a shit about a 13-year-old trying to express her love for a computer game, but you sat there and listened to me for an hour with a smile on your face and gave me the attention a child needed.

I remember the time you brought me some newspaper-wrapped thing, I remember how excited and worried I was that it’d be some kind of a prank and how you kept telling me to open it, I remember the smile on your face and the sound of your laugh with every guess I make, and I remember how happy I was when it turned out to be that toy I liked.
P.S: I still have it, and I used to keep it next to me on the nightstand while I’m asleep.

I still remember the puzzles you used to make me solve, the games we used to play together, the time when you tried to teach me how to play “tawla”, the 50-pound “3eedeya” you once gave me, our conversations, your talks about grandma and how strong you loved her, your huge library and the thousands of books in it, your light-blue suit, your glasses, your cane, your blanket, the blue veins that forced their way through your skin as you grew old, and the smell of your hug.

I still think of that last conversation we had 3 days before you passed away, your last hug, the tears that were like fire in my eyes because I felt that it would be our last hug, my promise that I’d come to visit again very soon, and I’m sorry I didn’t.
I still think of all of this, grandpa, and I let myself be swayed by the flood of memories in my head.

I miss you. May your soul be in eternal happiness and peace.

Your Fatima.

Anonymous asked:

[Give a man a mask, and he will tell you the truth]... - Fear of failure, fear of not being good enough, when you love someone, you lay your heart open. You give them a part of yourself that you give to no one else, and you let them inside a part of you that only they can hurt-you literally hand them the razor with a map of where to cut deepest and most painfully on your heart and soul, afraid of losing piece of my heart with you, fear of can't draw a smile upon your beautiful face.

Okay, I understand.

Anonymous asked:

I had a dream about you last night, I met you for the first time, couldn't look into your eyes, couldn't say a word, But you were stunning like sunrise on blue ocean, confident and perfect like everything is useless without you. , .. >P.S." [I like that smile I give when I get shy and blush] Reading this made my heart beats faster and slower at the same time "

Oh, wow..
That’s.. umm.. I don’t know..
Hmm.. Why wouldn’t you want to tell me who you are? Like, is it a fear of rejection? A fear of taking a step, etc.?

Anonymous asked:

I like to see people reunited, maybe that's a silly thing, but what can I say, I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can't tell fast enough, the ears that aren't big enough, the eyes that can't take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone.

That’s actually so nice.
Here are some random stuff I truly enjoy
I like movies, hugs, and the butterflies in my tummy when I’m super excited about something. I love the feeling I get after reading a good book or watching a good movie, I love when I laugh so hard to the point where my stomach hurts and the sound of my laughing disappears, I love the taste of coffee when I’m so sleepy -and when I’m not-, and I love it when my eyes sparkle when I talk about a topic of interest. I like music that can find its way to my soul without me even realizing it, I like that smile I give when I get shy and blush, and I like the feeling I get when someone compliments my taste in music. :)

Anonymous asked:

I like you, I like your taste in music, I like your haircut, I like your words that describe the world you live in.

And I really appreciate your words. Really. I won’t push you to show your name, although I want to know who you are after the compliment about my taste in music, but I won’t.
Again, thank you. :)

Anonymous asked:

I'm a very open person; I will tell you exactly how I feel about you. Unless i like you in which case, I will make sure everyone BUT you knows.

Which is perfectly fine with me.
How do you feel about me, anonymous?

Anonymous asked:

انتي ساكنة في اي مدينة دلوقتي ؟ و بلوقك بصراحة حاقة تانية " ابداااع " 💕

شكراً كثير :)
*حُب عميق*

أنا مقيمة في كندا حالياً يا جميلة

Anonymous asked:

انتي ملحدة !

أيستحق الموضوع الفزع إللي بتوحي بيه علامة التعجب التابعة للجملة دي ؟
موضوع الإيمان من عدمه أبسط من كدة بكثير يا إسمك إيه