Far From Traditional
A Circle’s Efforts for Inclusivity, Compassion & Love for LGBTQ Muslims
A Muslim used to a traditional mosque would be stunned by the freedom found in this space.
Many of the women coming in the room don’t have their head covered and are dressed in clothing that expresses their personalities. Some have facial piercings and tattoos, which, to say the least, would be frowned upon at a traditional mosque. A member of the circle reads the house rules and reminds everyone that women are not required to cover their head and they may do so only if they wish. Those who aren’t able to physically be at the circle can join in via Skype; many are from all across the continent.
This week, a queer woman is leading a khutbah about friendship. The floor is open for discussion afterwards and everyone is encouraged to reflect, comment and share what comes to mind regarding the topic discussed.
It starts with a few dozen yoga mats and a hardworking crew rolling them all out prior to the crowd’s arrival. Thin patterned square cloths are placed on top of the mats like puzzle pieces to create the look of a giant rug. Paisley, striped, plain or floral, you name it. In no time, it becomes a work of art.
Chairs are set up at the back for those who would prefer not to sit on the floor and in the kitchen; water gets boiled for tea.
“As Salamu Alaykum,” says a woman to another, “Are you here for Juma?”
“W’Alaykum Assalam, yes I am,” she replies. “I’ve missed you!”
Everyone starts to come in and the room gradually fills up. They take their shoes off at the door while saying “salaam” left and right. The tea is now ready and sits on a tray of assorted mugs right in the middle of the rug. Many chatter amongst each other and those who are new keep quiet, but warm up quickly.
Juma is a congregational prayer that Muslims hold every Friday, just after noon. It is said to be a blessed day and those who pray in congregation gather many blessings for doing so. The prayer also includes a khutbah (a sermon) usually regarding a topic Muslims can relate to, often a time where one can reflect or be educated on a new aspect of the religion.
The imam (leader of the mosque) leads the prayer and performs the khutbah. At a traditional mosque, the imam is a male — but not at El-Tawhid Juma Circle (eTJC) Unity Mosques. The imam can be whoever wants to take on the roll that day. Their gender and sexual orientation is not taken into consideration so long as they can perform a sermon on a topic the attendees can relate to.
Everyone is encouraged to take turn in aspects of Juma services, like making the call to prayer, giving a sermon and leading the prayer.
“You don’t have to be a scholar to perform a khutbah and if you need help, we can help you gather your thoughts,” said El-Farouk Khaki, Imam and coordinator at eTJC.
At 1:20 p.m., it’s time for Athan (the call to prayer) and everyone quiets down and listens attentively.
eTJC is unlike the vast majority of mosques around the world. This place stands for one thing: El-Tawhid (Oneness) and that is exactly the outcome. The space is gender-equal, LGBTQI2S affirming and is welcoming of everyone regardless of sexual orientation, gender, sexual identity, or faith background. Those who attend the circle are from all around the world, most identify as Muslim, but others don’t. eTJC was founded by El-Farouk Khaki, Troy Jackson and Dr. Laury Silvers in May of 2009.
As homosexuality remains a taboo and a “shame” in Muslim communities, this circle tries to provide a space where equality is prioritized and the individuals are celebrated for who they truly are. Muslims all around the world often spend their life segregated, alienated, dehumanized and misunderstood. Often, LGBTQ Muslims find themselves walking the line between two communities that they feel they belong to.
During a conversation with a young woman at the circle, I was stunned when she told me how her father married her mother, had kids and a life, but then ultimately got a divorce because he was gay. “Family pressures,” she explained. “You know how it is back home, he would have never been able to come out even if he wanted to.”
The circle is considered a safe space — a safe haven. Many are not public about their sexuality while others are still in a phase of discovery where they are either getting to know themselves or finding out more about the religion. For that reason, the prayer is hosted weekly at a location in Toronto that isn’t announced to the public in order to preserve the privacy of the attendees.
“I actually just recently came back from the States and have been reflecting a lot after my trip,” said a woman with short dark brown hair with a bright turquoise streak in the front. Her purple-framed glasses complemented her embroidered lavender shawl. The colours stood out nicely against her fair skin.
Renée Mercuri is a 40-year-old white Muslim who converted to Islam only a few months ago. She explained that her trip to the United States was a little different this time around after the election of Donald Trump. She told members of the circle that she knew she carried some privilege because herself and her family are white, but regardless, she told her five and seven-year-old sons not to blurt out anything to do with Islam. She chuckled as she explained that her son walks around and screams the Athan everywhere he goes.
“I get that many aspects of Islamophobia are related to racism,” said Mercuri. “But, I also know there are various visual and audible items that would cause non-Muslims to ‘freak out’ if they were around converts or kids who were comfortable with Islamic expressions.”
Khaki added that before 9/11, he had a different airport security strategy. He would take his jewellery off and try to be as non-descript as possible. Now, he says he keeps all his jewels on.
“It’s sad, but sometimes, it’s easier to look gay than to look Muslim,” he said.
After the discussion, someone from the circle leads the prayer and in congregation, they form rows and pray shoulder to shoulder. Unlike the traditional mosque where women pray in the back and men in the front, here everyone prays together. Here, a woman is even leading the prayer.
When the prayer is over, everyone goes back in the circle and recites prayers together. They make prayers for loved ones, themselves and recite verses of the Qur’an. First-timers have the chance to reflect and share their views with the rest of the circle.
“I am feeling all these emotions that I can’t explain,” Amina said as she struggled to find words. “It’s a feeling of peace…serenity. I am so overwhelmed with emotion.”
Amina isn’t the only one. Many who shared stories during the circle explained that they have questioned their belonging to Islam for many years while visiting local mosques that didn’t accept them and repeated that queers will go to hell. Many felt threatened by their immediate circles because of their narrow views on a lifestyle that isn’t heterosexual.
Those who come to eTJC find a place where they are safe, accepted and are able to build a relationship with their God and make special bonds with those around them. They are constantly reminded that they are not alone. The theme of the mosque is El-Tawhid (Oneness) and that is exactly the outcome considering those who attend it are from all corners of the world.
