Disrespect by Umm Zakiyyah

Disrespect.

I do not understand this word disrespectful.
I do not understand it.
But I heard it muttered alongside my name when I moved my lips while I was hurting.
They spoke of the rights of the one who struck me.
They spoke of the good of the one who slandered me.
And they spoke of the piety of the one who dismissed me.

I do not understand this word disrespectful.
I do not understand it.
But I heard it uttered after her name as she rushed away,
the cloth slipping from her head.
They spoke of the sanctity of the female body.
They spoke of the raging desires of the man near her.
But they did not speak of her
Or her pain.

I do not understand this word disrespectful.
I do not understand it.
But I heard it shouted from the pulpit after he wrote a song about Allah.
They spoke of the evil instruments of Shaytaan.
They spoke of the corruption of the rappers and singers.
But they did not speak of him
Or his soul.

I do not understand this word disrespectful.
I do not understand it.
But we whisper it in low voices, fearing it is carved on our souls.
So we do not move our lips when we are hurting.
We do not shield ourselves when they are striking us.
And we do not fault them when they slander us.
And we do not introduce ourselves to the world.

For we know religiousness is in silence.
And piety is in pain
So we submit to their dismissiveness.
And nod emphatically to their words.

We’ve made peace with not knowing who we are.
We find joy in denying our sadness.
But we smile.
Oh we smile!
Until the tears sting our eyes
Because now
They call us respectful.

—an excerpt of “PAIN. From the Journal of Umm Zakiyyah”