RACIST ENCOUNTERS IN BOSTON: It was a sunny Tuesday afternoon in Boston. I’d just finished my Literary Studies class and met up with a friend in the Common for lunch. We hadn’t seen each other for weeks— which was a really long time for us, given we hung out almost every other day during the summer time. And so for lunch we decided to head to a food court right in downtown Boston. My friend and I, who both wear hijabs, ordered food from some kiosk. A middle-aged white man, who had been constantly glancing at us, approached us. “I really hope you don’t mind me asking,” he started. Whenever strangers begin conversations this way, I’m always kind of nervous. My heart starts fluttering in my chest and I plaster a smile on my face, trying to appear nonchalant. Most of the time it’s just an innocent question like, “What’s the name of that scarf on your head?” Their questions are not usually fully and completely racist. Maybe just ignorant, like the person simply doesn’t know any better. I’ve had my fair share of experiences with racists—and racists are usually blatant with their racism. Alienation and hostile language is their conversation starter. That Tuesday afternoon, however, this racist guy decided to take it the long route, the unique route. The appear-as-if-you’re-starting-a-friendly-conversation route. The ask-theperson-about-their-ethnicity-and-then-promptly-say-they’re-ISIS route… We hadn’t realized this, however, until halfway through the conversation. He asked my friend and I if we were Hindu. We both replied no, we weren’t Hindu. “Well then were you guys Christian and then you converted?” My friend and I looked at each other. “Well, no, we were always Muslim.” “So from the day you were born you were always Muslim?” He asked confusedly, as if he couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that someone could follow a single religion their whole life. We nodded. He covered his hands with his face. “So those burqas, you have to wear them to church?” “Well, this isn’t a burqa. This is called a hijab.” I gestured to my hijab. “And the burqa is a more cultural than religious headdress. It’s a personal preference. You don’t have to
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