Just Trying

[justtryingandshit-blog]

Free Speech Hacks and Islamophobia

Another day another roundtable discussing the lived experience of Muslim women and Islamophobia.

“I was waiting for the tube and he spat in my face, ripped off my hijab and told me to go back to where I came from” one lady said, dabbing her eyes with a kleenex.

“I was walking down the high street and two white women started shouting “terrorist” and “bomber” at me. They eventually chased me down the street and beat me. I was wearing western clothes and no hijab, how could they know I was Muslim? I felt humiliated and broken. No one helped me”

“To be honest, I’m sick and tired. Nothing is going to change, why do I have to keep speaking out and reporting hate crime when nothing is going to change?” another woman professed before reclining into her seat.

This session was particularly heavy; brave mothers, young teenagers, and professionals all sharing their horrendous experiences of Islamophobic abuse. These were the kinds of stories I came across occasionally in the daily Mirror, yet every woman today had a story to tell, often with unintended tears. On the tube back I collected myself and scrolled through twitter; “Islamophobia is term used to shut down debate, we should use anti-Muslim hate instead” read one, “Islamophobia is a fiction used to stifle free speech” followed another, “Some Muslims have such a victim complex, all they go on about is Islamophobia, never accountable for extremists within their own ranks”. Most of these comments irked me more than usual, not just because of my roundtable engagement prior to this, but because these tweets all came from free speech advocates, white secularists, and rampant liberals. Trying to debate these sanctimonious hacktivists is a double challenge: overcoming the unwarranted labels of “snowflake”, “regressive leftie” and “peddler of victimhood” and then the debate itself. Debating online is useless and accomplishes nothing - a lesson I learned a long time ago - the hard way.

Many good articles have already tackled the arguments against the term “Islamophobia”, but I haven’t come across any that point out the irony in the appeal to “free speech” when activists wish to police the term Islamophobia out of existence. I’ve had a bone to pick with (white) secular/free speech movements for a while now but the use of this argument (almost wholesale by “free speech” hacks) is so ludicrously wrong and audacious in its use, I just can’t help myself.

Free speech is a human right, it’s an important benchmark of a free society. Asia Bibi has recently been released after almost a decade in prison for jumped up blasphemy charges in Pakistan - a true victim of the curtailment of free speech implemented at a state level. A chilling example of what can happen to innocent people if a state does not respect free speech within its constitution, or institutional practices. Some “free speech” activists in the UK have appropriated well-meaning movements that put truth to power to instead police speech that they find offensive because they’ve had a poor debating experience, usually online.

“Everytime I try and criticise Islam, Muslims tell me I’m being Islamophobic. They try and shut down debate by tarnishing me as an Islamophobe.” 

It’s not like Islam hasn’t been on the agenda for every major news outlet, talk show, political agenda etc. for the past two decades, naturally every day Muslims have become defensive over the years. There are institutions set up to research Islam, debate Islam and learn more about the faith in an academic fashion. There’s no doubt that harmful racist tropes about Muslims and Islam are being peddled by well meaning free speech movements that refuse to make room for critical thought or genuine challenge. 

Now western free speech activism involves sanctimonious whinging in regards to being able to criticise Islam (usually a thinly veiled excuse for anti-Muslim bigotry) or nazi apologia. See the recent example of an American school letting their students off the hook for big old fashioned nazi salutes in the name of free speech. It’s important to remember that Muslims being able to define a working definition of Islamophobia is never about anything else other than defining anti-Muslim racism, not about creating a magic word to invalidate free speech warriors online. Perhaps there have been instances of people wrongly accusing keen debaters of Islamophobia, but this is an incorrect usage of a word, not the word being problematic in and of itself. Why then should the term be policed out of existence because it offends people? it’s a a cheap cop out for lazy activists who fail to distinguish poor debating from actual curtailment of free speech. It’s doubly ironic that the debate surrounding islamophobia is frequently platformed on talk shows, online and offline. Even if Islamophobia was to be replaced with “anti-Muslim hate”, the repercussions of which would be detrimental to countering the true scope of Islamophobia. Islamophobia accounts for the institutional barriers that Muslims face in Britain; in education, employment and accessing services (as outlined by the recent Runnymede report). Anti-Muslim hate reduces the scope to hate crime and hate speech but fails to account for the institutional barriers faced by Muslims. Anti-Muslim hate is real; those women who bravely shared their stories of unwarranted hate and abuse weren’t making it up, it’s a scary reality for Muslims in Britain. But hate crime is a symptom of something far greater and deeply rooted in our society: Islamophobia. Report hate crime all you want but unless we challenge the institutional participation of Islamophobia by dismantling the systems that deliver poorer outcomes for Muslims, hate crime will persist. When a bigotry is institutionalised it then inadvertently gives a green light to that bigotry within civil society. Defining Islamophobia as a racism to qualify it under the Equalities act 2010, is the first step to challenging Islamophobia as an institutional barrier to Muslims. It’s, therefore, time we put this counter-intuitive argument to rest and root out those that appropriate free speech movement to validate their own bigotry (knowingly or unknowingly). Islamophobia isn’t about you, dear activist, it hasn’t been fabricated to silence you, nor does it shut down debate, for policing this term out of existence does greater harm than good for a hell of a lot more people than yourself, you selfish little hack.

[justtryingandshit-blog]

Red Poppy Fascism

November; a distinctly dreary month that is basically the buffer month for Christmas. Besides Guy Fawkes Night that is over in a flash early in the month, there is nothing else to distinguish November besides the sharp turn in the weather and Remembrance Sunday (also known as Armistice Day). The rest of November is famed by red poppies appearing everywhere. This year there was a visibly concerted effort from people, politicians and even corporations to boast their red poppies. Given the political circumstances, there’s little wonder why there has been a fevered rush to out poppy one another.

Red poppies have traditionally been a symbol of respect for those who gave their lives, not necessarily out of their free will, in wars. It’s important for a nation to remember this. In recent times, the red poppy has been hijacked by those hell-bent on policing those who choose not to wear one for whatever reasons, often the far right are not far behind poppy fascism. This year the Royal British Legion who supply the red poppies had to release a statement openly distancing themselves from far-right groups who have hijacked the red poppy for their own agendas. A sorry state of affairs.

White poppies are a symbol for pacifism worn either in place or as an addition to the red poppy as a symbol of remembrance. The white poppy hasn’t really come under fire as it has this year, with even a prominent politician calling the symbol “attention seeking” and asking for it to be “completely ignored” without realising that this is a form of poppy fascism and puts many people off the now highly politicised symbol. Consequently, white poppy sales soared by 30% this year, undeniably as a silent protest to the recent red poppy fascism appropriated by the hard right and pro-military figureheads and supporters.

My very own great grandfather served in the Indian Army (under British rule) for over 30 years. Subadar Feroz Din Mughal served in the Bombay Sappers and Miners after being wounded in combat in Burma. He is a solid part of the forgotten Muslim soldiers of World War One. In recent years there has been a greater effort to commemorate and actively remember the sacrifices of soldiers of colour from the colonies, particularly Muslim soldiers. Whilst I appreciate the efforts to finally include the stories of soldiers who are often erased from Armistice and Remembrance Day, I don’t appreciate the appropriation of Muslim soldiers to further the pro-military and pro-war stances to justify the wars of today. There is a distinct reason why many Muslims and minorities, in general, do not participate in the carte blanche endorsement of British and American military might and power, we do not agree with the illegal war in Afghanistan and the reasons for invading Iraq which were ultimately unfounded.

There’s also no surprise as to why there is a greater push to recognise the participation of Muslim soldiers in Britain - to counter the harmful anti-Muslim narratives that have arisen post 9/11 that seek to other Muslims from mainstream British society. It’s fine to use Muslim soldiers as a method to encourage pluralism in modern day Britain, but it must not be used to justify the good old days of empire and colonialism, a narrative that is often missing from Muslim soldiers of WW1. As the great granddaughter of a Muslim soldier, I would only wish to commemorate his sacrifice through wearing the white poppy, however, I felt tremendous anxiety when I approached the thought of wearing the white poppy this year.

Given the toxic political atmosphere of 2018 and the rise of red poppy fascism, a brown Muslim woman like myself would be an easy target for hate crime. But for someone who’s family actively participated in WW1 it’s astounding that I should even deliberate when choosing to wear an alternative symbol of remembrance. It is, unfortunately, indicative of the hostile political climate that has seeped into the every day for Muslims and other minorities. Make no mistake, I will ‘never forget’ the scourge of red poppy fascism and next year will make a distinct effort to wear my white poppy with pride.

[justtryingandshit-blog]

Busting the Stigma of Internet Friendships

As a young person with strict parents, I spent a lot of time on the internet. I wasn’t necessarily lonely because I made quite a few friends overseas which I spoke to regularly. Usually, the internet has a bad reputation when it comes to meeting strangers, yet there is shame associated with modern day friendships formed over the web. You might think this is a sad reality - sure, to an extent it was because of my familial circumstances but I am forever grateful to the internet for introducing me to a bunch of people I would have never met before.

One of my friends, Sam, I met through some weird chat room when I was 13. He was from Atlanta and of a similar age, we got talking about mundane stuff, bonding over mutual intrigue of one another. 14 years later he happened to be in Scotland and needed a place to crash - I tentatively offered, thinking he may back out because it may be too awkward. Naturally, as internet friendships go, I kept up with his life through his social media activity, passively witnessing him growing up. I felt as though I knew him well enough to allow him to stay, even though my friends thought this strange. There was also an internalised shame associated to meeting friends from the internet in real life because it suddenly becomes a reality for both parties which must be acknowledged in person - that can be awkward. I received a text “I’m 5 mins away”. My heart was fluttering - the unthinkable is about to happen, I’m going to meet someone I met on a chat room when I was 13 in real life. The doorbell rang and I waited 5 seconds before I opened it and there he was. Both of us sheepishly smiled at each other before embracing. I decided to break the ice first. “I can’t believe I’m meeting you!” “Neither can I! Thank you so much for letting me stay.”

Over the next 3 days, I introduced Sam to my friends in Aberdeen and shows him the sights. All my friends loved him, he was friendly, polite, funny, mature, a true gentleman. Phew. There was an afternoon where Sam and I felt comfortable enough to talk about how we met. We acknowledged that we had met in some weird chatroom as naive kids but tried to reassure one another (and ourselves) that we were completely normal and didn’t have any of the perceived deficiencies of those who dwell on the internet constantly.

The fact that I met such a great person who has become a long term friend ought to be celebrated. The benefits of the internet and its ability to effortlessly introduce new people from opposite sides of the earth is a positive development in modernity. As the advancements of the internet become more imbedded in our lives the further time progresses, it is inevitable more people will meet through virtual means.

Tinder is a new, popular and normalised form of meeting new people through the internet. Albeit a phone app that finds suitable matches according to your distance and mutual preference, Tinder is the evolution of meeting people through the internet. As time progresses, the stigma of internet friends (and dating) are slowly decreasing, approaching the inevitable evolution in human evolution.

[justtryingandshit-blog]

The Problem with Secularism Today

In a world which comprised of different ethnicities, faiths, beliefs, genders, and sexualities, a pluralistic society is an inevitability and a necessity. Secularism, traditionally the separation of faith and state, therefore, ought to be the necessary political infrastructure that best allows societal pluralism to flourish. Even in societies where the majority adhere to one religion, no two members of that religion have the same levels of religiosity nor the same beliefs. Secularism, then, makes sense. However, in recent times secularism has gained a poor reputation for itself, alienating a new generation of political activists who would rather distance themselves from what has become an intolerant ideology.

As a secular activist myself, advocating for secularism has become increasingly difficult. The movement has been hijacked by white male liberals that possess an aversion to intersectionality and a distinct misunderstanding of religious believers. In a time where religious minorities, particularly Muslims, are persecuted for their religious identity, secular movements have co-opted anti-Muslim sentiments to further their cause. Now, secularists see Islam and Muslims as the antithesis of enlightenment values and therefore wrongly believe those anti-Muslim sentiments further enlightenment values. As a Muslim and a secularist, you can already see my difficulty.

France, a prime example of secularism in power is a shameful manifestation of how secularism can become institutionally intolerant. France is a country that boldly proclaims to be the champion of Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity. But for French Muslims, the reality is starkly different. French policies formed in the name of secularism such as the Burqa Ban have been counterproductive because they actually compromise key secular principles such as freedom, liberty, and equality. France is the first example most people use to counter secularism as an ideology. But it isn’t the only reason why secularism has lost its way. There are many reasons why the movement has become problematic and counter-intuitive.

Secular movements have lost their primary focus. Instead of putting truth to real power, secularists now focus on minor manifestations of ‘religious privilege’ in the form of minority faith communities. Burqa’s, Hijabs, Mosques, Ramadan are the low hanging fruit that secular movements go for because Islamophobia is in vogue, it’s an easy win, but Islam is hardly institutionalised the same way the Church of England is. True power lies in the unelected crown which is the head of the state and the head of the state church. This is the 21st century and popularity for the monarchy is at an all-time high. Challenging the state church means challenging the monarchy - too much of a task for an already unpopular secular movement. Challenging injustices that occur in the name of religion is a good thing, however, secular movements have conveniently appropriated these crusades that are regularly championed by far-right movements. Hanging onto the coattails of populist bigotry, secular movements skirt the responsibility of challenging the monarchy, once a proud secular stance. The movement is losing its backbone for the sake of staying relevant now.

We rarely see secular movements calling out the injustices of the British State. Instead, we see secular organisations getting behind problematic counter-terror policies that curtail basic freedoms and privacy for all citizens, but because these policies overwhelmingly target Muslims, secularists see this as a win. It goes to show how far secular movements are willing to vilify religious minorities, to the point where they compromise traditional secular values and principles.

There is no doubt that white liberals are driving the runaway train of secularism, desperately missing every point along the way. By picking low hanging fruit (minority faith communities and sensationalist stories) as key policy priority areas, secular movements have compromised the very essence of what made secularism a viable political option where pluralism was to flourish. Instead, it has aligned itself with problematic factions of the new atheist movements that comprise of misogynistic, racist, entitled white men that promote anti-religious bigotry. Long gone are the days of constructive debate, sitting down at the table with theists and understanding the ‘enemy’. Secular movements must change the path they have taken before secularism is confined to the history books and laughed off by the new generation of activists they so desperately need to get on side.

[justtryingandshit-blog]

Winter Lip Balms

I have to make a confession: I am obsessed with lip balms. Not in a cute or quirky way, I just need them for my dry ass lips. I know the reason for my crusty smackers is probably because I don’t drink enough water but even when I do drink enough, applying lip balm has become habitual. It’s the first thing I do when I wake up and the last thing I do before I go to sleep. It’s been the most consistent and longest standing part of my routine for years. I don’t go anywhere without it.

I know full well that people generally don’t give a shit about lip balms until they desperately need them. Lip balm companies will mass produce weak ointment with cheap scents that do not do the trick. After years of testing lip balms, probably hundreds of pounds spent on trying to find the right one, I am still on that quest. So let me share some of this wisdom with you. It’s getting colder, your lips need some support. Let me help.

Now - do not purchase your usual bog standard ‘lypsyl’ or ‘carmex’. That’s rule number one. I don’t think they’re very good. Anything with a tingly mint sensation is trying to cover up the fact that it’s actually shit. They also include some harsh chemicals that have no respect for your skin. Truly. I have spent years hunting far and wide for that perfect balm and no, I don’t think I have found it yet. But I’m going to reveal those that have come very close.

I categorise a balm by 3 golden rules:

It has to moisturise. That wondering sense of relief we get after applying lip balm is deceiving. The true test is how long afterwards do you need to apply it again. If you forget about the need for lip balm long after your first application then that’s a good sign.

The scent. The scent cannot be too overpowering or sickly. There is definitely a section of the industry that caters to young girls who love sickly, tacky scents. A lovely sophisticated scent can be more-ish and comforting - but of course this is subjective.

The applicator. Now this may not seem like the most important factor because it isn’t the actual product which is why it’s the third rule, however, it still makes a difference. The EOS balm is awful but their unique selling point is the egg shaped applicator and boy is that good. When you use lip balm as much as me, the applicator matters.

With these three rules in mind, let me share with you a few balms (not necessarily from the high street) that will fix your chappy woes and then some.

Hurraw!

Hurraw is a balm I stumbled across on Ebay. I thought it was a cheap knockoff of Palmers Cocoa Butter lip balm because the applicator is exactly the same. Then I noticed the price and did a double take. A fucking fiver?? Who do they think they are? Then, after doing some homework I realised this brand was legit. Vegan, organic and the flavours alone let you know that Hurraw knows what they are doing when it comes to lipbalm.

I bought the coconut - usually a scent that is prone to being sickly and therefore hard to get right - Hurraw perfects it. Delicious, dreamy, gorgeous coconut, a sophisticated scent made for adults. The applicator is one of my favourites: small, slim and pocket-sized (easily lost, though). Hurraw is a firm favourite that will not disappoint, a brand that understands sophisticated scents yet doesn’t take itself too seriously. If you want to take your balm game to the next level, Hurraw is a safe bet. However, the moisturising factor could be better - the product is rather thin which is understandable because it glides along your lips effortlessly, the downside being the product doesn’t last as long as it ought to. That being said, Hurraw is renowned for their Moon Balm: extra thick, creamy and rich. Uff.

Lush - Rose Lollipop

Needless to say Lush know their stuff when it comes to body care but can be sickly with scent. I was skeptical of their ability to produce good lip balm that would hit at even one of the 3 rules. Come on, their stuff can come across really gimmicky sometimes. I was wrong.

The price is a daunting £7.50 but worth every penny, not just because it’s a great product but unlike Hurraw, you get a lot for your money. That shit lasts. Rose Lollipop is my favourite because of its subtle floral fragrance with citrus undertones. Made with Turkish role oil, candilla and orange peel this delicious balm is so moisturising. It’s a delight to crack open the tin and smear this product onto chapped lips. The product comes in a small tin with a screw top. This can be a problem in the summer when it gets hot and the product melts because of the heat and resets. In the winter, the product is rather stiff but quickly melts when met with the heat of your finger. It’s gorgeously velvet but messy at the same time - tins are my least favourite applicator for a reason. If you want an indulgent scent with moisturising properties, this is the balm for you.

Hotel Chocolate  - Chocolate Peach

My friend had convinced me try Hotel Chocolate’s new hot chocolate with the chocolate frosting in the shape of a rose. She had me at hot chocolate. We waltzed into the store eyes firmly set on the barista at the back of the shop before I got pleasantly distracted - Hotel Chocolate do lip balm. What the fuck! I no longer cared for the hot chocolate. I needed to spend a decent amount of time analysing these glorious looking wooden pots filled with chocolate lip balm. You may have guessed that I cannot stand sickly scents but I was impressed at the bravery of a chocolatier to attempt lip balm.

To be honest, I wasn’t a fan of a lot of them purely because I am not a fan of chocolate scented things. But then I stumbled across the chocolate peach pot, which is probably was dreams are made from. Velvet, luscious, romantic, cosy, just plain delicious - this scent puts me to sleep with a smile on my face every time. I don’t use it as a day balm, it’s too shiny and messy, you need to use it as a night balm. This is the best night balm I have ever come across. When uninterrupted, this balm works its magic overnight, leaving lips feeling plump and saturated from the application the night before. The scent alone is something I could only imagine Willy Wonka coming up with for me especially. At £7, it’s worth buying for a night balm. The applicator is unique but clunky to carry around in a pocket. I also hate pots.

There you have it. 3 reliable, honest reviews of balms you need to buy to break away from the monopoly bogus balm companies hold unwitting consumers over. Use those 3 rules when you’re desperately trying to salvage your lips this winter - you’ll thank me for it.

[justtryingandshit-blog]

My Relationship with a Racist

“I can’t be racist, my girlfriend’s Asian!” is something we’ve all heard but I have first hand experience of why that statement is always false. Racism cannot be absolved by purely finding another race attractive. Racism is, unfortunately, far more nuanced than that. Here’s an insight into how I learned I was in a relationship with a racist, the hard way.

I met a man who was ten years my senior when I was 18 - this should have already been enough to set the alarm bells off, but it didn’t. I was young, naive, and really infatuated by him. Our relationship was fiery and passionate which felt fulfilling at the time. Our relationship was problematic but boy was it fun; we couldn’t get enough of each other. He was from Holland and lived in Rotterdam. We survived long distance through phone calls and Skype. White, rich, and opinionated, I didn’t care for his money, nor his race, but found myself playfully disagreeing with almost every single one of his views on politics. We enjoyed ‘debating’ with each other. Often, these debates would turn into full blown arguments complete with personal attacks. I don’t want to be seen as the victim in this relationship, I usually gave as good as I got.

I remember once we were talking about free range eggs. He held the view that people who buy non free range are disgraceful that have no respect for the local farmers they are inadvertently harming. I disagreed, providing a counterexample of poor families who may have no choice but to buy the cheapest food they can get according to their tiny budget. He sighed deeply before erupting into a barrage of nasty personal attacks.

“You’re so dumb, what would you know about local farming? You’re stupid, you don’t listen.”

“What?! I’m simply saying that not everyone can afford free range all of time.”

This ridiculous unreasonable argument escalated.

“You fucking bitch, you have no idea what you’re talking about. Of course you’d defend poor people because you’re a low class bitch”.

I sharply inhaled. This pause allowed both of us to reflect on what was just said. Low. Class. Bitch. I was gobsmacked. He knew he’d fucked up but was tensely anticipating my reaction to decide if he should apologise or continue arguing. I hung up the call and refused to pick up any more from him.

Low class bitch. That particularly hurt because it was an attack on a part of my identity that I had no control over and something I didn’t think he cared about or noticed. Our relationship was only 8 months in. He didn’t know my family, only knew me as a broke student - a common stereotype. But how could he have deduced my class? Surely not because of my race. It’s often a thought working class people have in the back of their minds; how others perceive their class and if it’s noticeable. Today I found out it was.

A week later things went back to normal. I decided to forgive him over his callous remarks. 2 years passed and I found myself forgiving him more often. Times weren’t always bad though, when things were good they were really good. We used to eat out regularly because I didn’t drink, eating was always a favourable option. I remember we were at our favourite sushi joint one time. Behind us were a group of black men who had ordered a few hot plates. “Of course they’re ordering fried chicken. What a surprise!” he sniggered under his breath.

I found myself gobsmacked again but also panicked. Not only was this a disgusting thing to say but they were right behind us. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” I said through gritted teeth making intense eye contact with him the entire time.

He laughed and moved onto another topic without a care. This wasn’t the only occasion his mask slipped.

Another time he was calling me from his car, he was stuck in some intense traffic. We were talking away until he cut me off to scream “THIS MONKEY JUST CUT ME OFF, THE NIGGER IS EATING A BANANA”. This time I was pissed off and told him to shut the fuck up before I left him. This was 60’s racism coming out of the mouth from the man I loved. He brushed it off with an “ok” and moved on.

Another few months went by and I enquired why I had never met his parents or his friends. We’d speak incessantly every day but I wasn’t engaged in any other part of his life. He chalked this down to distance and brushed it off. This concerned me. Two years and no mention of the parents? I had introduced him to my mother (a story for another time). So why no interest to unite me with his family?

Fast forward another month. I remember this call as though it was yesterday.

“Rabia, I don’t want to introduce you to my parents”. “Why?” Cue the bullshit excuses and petty reasons.

“I don’t believe you. Tell me the real reason why.”

More garbled reasons that were really an obfuscation. I wasn’t having any of it. It just didn’t make any sense. Why, after 2 plus years did he not want to introduce me to his family? He was breaking up with me. I could tell. Perhaps he was bored, tired, or had met someone else.

“Because you’re not white. I cannot introduce someone who isn’t white to my parents.”

I was winded. I didn’t know what to say. He saw the shock that had morphed my face and chose to take advantage of this to hang up. Coward.

I still cannot fully explain the effect these words have had on me. To not be good enough someone is probably something everyone experiences in their lifetime. But to not be good enough for something because I’m not white is akin to being checkmated at a long game that was rigged from the start. In hindsight of course he was a rampant racist. I chose to deny this, bury this, pray he would change for the better by being with me. Racism isn’t something white people can inoculate by dating a non-white person. It’s more than that; it’s a profound like of respect for someone you don’t consider your equal, an insidious belief that denies the humanity of people of colour. I learned this the hard way.

[justtryingandshit-blog]

When Will the Pressure of Marriage for Women End?

2018 has bought with it a new era for women - feminism has officially made a comeback. Women have made considerable progress in calling out institutional sexism and finally being heard when speaking out about sexual assault. Progress has been made, the sisterhood is a little bit stronger yet despite all this there still remains an insidious societal expectation for women to marry before they are ‘past it’.

There is a cross-cultural pretense for women to get married. Marriage is sold as a goal that must be reached to girls of a young age for a reason; because our society fundamentally believes women have a shelf life and their worth will ultimately be validated by a man. Despite the re-emergence of feminism empowering women, this backdrop of pressure is never addressed.

The pressure to be married for women is primarily perpetuated by their families. Usually from a misplaced sense of love and concern, parents from all cultures stoke this marital pressure through passing comments about finding a boyfriend and jokes about ‘time running out’ to setting marriage as a goal for their daughters to attain and treating unmarried women as people society should feel sorry for. This is problematic for so many reasons:

A Woman’s days are numbered; a woman could be a rocket scientist but will still suffer the same expectation to get married, or she will be another one of those sad, lonely, old and unwanted women. I’m sure all of us have heard certain women described as a “strong independent woman who don’t need no man”. This notion of a “strong independent women” has become a caricature to be ridiculed, the butt of many jokes because it is a break from the norm of a dependent and weak woman who will eventually need a man because she couldn’t possibly manage life alone. Feminist movements today are desperately trying to get women into the upper echelons of power, to entice them into long term careers as a way of becoming truly independent, self-sufficient and empowered. Yet we continuously hear this false dichotomy of women having to choose between a vibrant career or a nuclear family because ‘having it all’ is near impossible. We never place this expectation on our male counterparts that have literally been ‘having it all’, hassle free, since the dawn of time.

Men don’t face the same pressure; there is a blatant double standard in what is expected of men and women in society. Men do not face the same pressure to get married and this can be best shown through the way single older men and single older women are perceived. Single men are bachelors, implying a hassle free and fun lifestyle but single women are spinsters, implying a sad, lonely and involuntarily single life. We know that from a young age girls are exposed to the idea of marriage through pretend wedding dresses and planning fancy weddings, reinforcing marriage as a goal that must be reached one day, but not for young boys. In fact, culturally, marriage is seen as an end to male freedom. There are even figurines placed on top of wedding cakes in the shape of the bride dragging the unwilling groom into their marriage. Best man speeches usually comprise of a segment dedicated to an end of an era for the freedom the groom once shared as a single man. This double standard should be one of the biggest indicators as to why marriage is a sham and fundamentally sexist.

A woman’s worth can only be validated by men through marriage; the unspoken shelf life of unmarried women and the subsequent shame society bestows as a deterrent for other women can only be broken through marriage. Regardless of education, professional or the personal achievements a woman, marriage is the only way society will truly validate a woman’s worth; through men. Men don’t face this societal penalty because a man’s worth is not validated by a woman, it’s granted from birth. The pressure of marriage is ultimately a patriarchal endeavour that penalises women that prioritise any other long-term goals that are perceived to jeopardise or delay the prospect of marriage.

Marriage is fast becoming unfashionable and unnecessary through the pursuit of social, political and economic gender equality. When the average wedding costs around £35,000 at the height of austerity is there any wonder why younger people have completely different priorities? For my generation, marriage is still a legitimate prospect in the eyes of family members and society, I hope this pressure isn't passed onto the next generation of women. The only viable way of escaping the shackles of marriage is for women en mass to decidedly choose to have children out of wedlock. Only when a generation of women ‘have it all’ without the need of marriage will the following generation discard marriage as truly old-fashioned and unnecessary. It’s time gender equality movements openly promoted the dissolution of marriage and recognise the harsh reality of marriage as a prerequisite to validating a woman’s worth.

[justtryingandshit-blog]

Food Is Why British Identity Isn’t a Thing

Sure, I’ve been broke as a student but I’ve surprisingly never gone hungry. I was always good at rustling something up out of a handful of basic ingredients; a skill passed on through cultural osmosis. I knew how to eat well, no matter my budget. I put this down to being savvy with my food shop, understanding the basics of cooking and having grown up with a strong food culture thanks to my big fat Pakistani family. What my household eat in a week would be seen as a royal banquet for the average Brit because Britain has long sold out its food culture and replaced it with an excessive drinking one.

The struggle for Britain to establish a monocultural identity has reached fever pitch in 2018, yet no one can define “British identity” that truly resonates with the majority of Brits. This national insecurity has delivered Brexit and othered minorities for not adhering to this elusive identity. But has anyone considered turning down the heat for immigrants by shifting the focus onto the erosion of British food culture? The best way to define a cultural identity, to me, is through food, yet Britain no longer possesses a strong food culture. Fish and chips, beef wellington, and shepherds pie have been replaced with chili con carne, spag bol and lasagne as the classic “British” favourites. No longer do Brits have the time or the will to cook and eat around a table. Sunday dinners are a thing of the past. In turn, convenience food culture has become embedded in our routines, eroding a key part of the British Identity.

Notice how the continent embodies bold, consistent and proud food cultures in almost every European country. France, Spain, Greece, and Italy are known for their cuisines and plenty of socialising occurs over food, with a tasty tipple as an accompaniment. In Britain, however, it’s the other way around; “I can’t have fun without a drink” has become an unspoken mantra.

Muslims don’t drink alcohol so the majority of our socialising is over food. I associate copious amounts of belly aching laughter and good times with family and friends to delicious Pakistani dishes like biryani, chana puri, zarda, and pakoray. Food is a ritual I couldn’t imagine my social life without but even I feel this gaping cultural hole when standing in a crowded pub with mates after work. I can’t help but think Brits have lost something very special and important.

Britain is facing a health crisis and obesity epidemic because convenience culture has reached an all-time high. A general push for a healthier lifestyle does exist but manifests itself as alien grains and exotic fruits and vegetables - even further away from “British food”. Approaching a healthier lifestyle is a good thing, however, until strong food habits are formed through sourcing local and sustainable produce, this renewed appetite for healthy eating will fade and be replaced by the next food trend.

The worst of American food culture has replaced ours: Mcdonalds, KFC, Five Guys, Burger King, and Subway are a staple on every high street. Yet not a peep of protest from nationalists - the free market, ironically, has destroyed British food culture instead of enhancing it, and we aren’t even willing to accept it.

The art of preparing a dish from scratch, learning heartfelt generational recipes, cooking and learning together, uniting friends and family over food, defining British culture through hundreds of years established cuisine has long gone. Instead, a shameful legacy of Britain bastardising other traditional cuisines unmistakably persists. British food being bland, tasteless, boring and unseasoned is a running joke between ethnic minorities for a reason.

Over the years Jamie Oliver and other chef’s have desperately tried to coax the British public into cooking something, anything, simplifying even the most basic dishes to convince people that cooking is ‘easy’ and ‘fun’. Isn’t this indicative of the fact that Britain has lost something important?

If Britain wishes to establish a pluralistic identity for itself, food and food culture that takes a primary place in our social lives must make a permanent come back. Cooking together, recipe exchanging and re-learning classic British cuisine is paramount to saving Britain’s soul and indeed part of its heritage. But first Britain must accept that it has lost its food culture and replaced it with unsustainable drinking.

[justtryingandshit-blog]

The Worst Date

I don’t like to discriminate but there’s a legitimate reason I don’t date South Asian guys. It’s not a strict rule and it’s certainly not because I don’t find them attractive but this date is the straw that broke the camel’s back.

It was the nearing the end of my first year at university and my friends had winded up at our usual student dive. As with many university friendship groups in first year, ours was a mish-mash of people from the halls we resided in. You would expect this group to be fairly diverse - yet I was the ‘token’ Asian girl because this group was as white as they come (their whiteness will become more apparent later on).

As expected for a weeknight, the bar was dead except for a handful of lads playing pool in the adjacent corner. They seemed slightly older, perhaps in their third or fourth year because they were minding their own business and not shamelessly ‘peacocking’ like first-year boys did. I wish I could say the same for the tipsy and attention seeking girls I was with; bored and probably a little sexually excited, one of the loudmouth girls playfully jeered at the boys, beckoning them to come over and of course, they did.

I distinctly remember sinking into my seat trying to escape the true horror of the situation; my tipsy friends tactlessly trying it on with 3 guys who we just randomly met in a bar. As it transpired, the 3 guys all turned out to be medical students. These girls had just hit the student ‘jackpot’. There were more of us than there were of them so naturally I didn’t really get involved as much, however, one of the medics happened to be Asian - cue peak whiteness. I had absolutely no initial interest in any of these guys but my friend noticed one striking similarity between myself and this random guy: we both happened to be of the same ethnicity. After an uncomfortable and slightly racist introduction for Jamal and I, we had no choice but to live through this awkward situation and talk.

Surprisingly, near the end of the night Jamal asked for my number and asked if we could go for ‘dinner’. Met with cringe inducing “ooooOOOO”’s and “aaaawwww”’s from my now very drunk flatmates, I accepted. He seemed nice.

Fast forward to date night: we had decided to go to pizza express, he was going to pick me up in ten minutes so I slipped my kitty heels on (it was Aberdeen, 2010, give me a break) and made my way downstairs. His car was already parked up, Jamal was pleasantly early. As soon as I entered the car I could sense something was slightly different to when we had first met, the mood was slightly more serious and intense, not jovial and chilled out like before. We exchanged pleasantries but the mood didn’t give me the opportunity to speak freely. As soon as we parked up outside pizza express he got out the car and walked around to my side to let me out. This is the kind of chivalry that is really intense and actually a little bit uncomfortable, however, I appreciated the gesture and stepped out. This is the fastest a date has ever declined for me, this early on.

“Ugh you’re wearing heels? What the fuck?!”

I’ve never felt so gobsmacked in my life. It should be noted that Jamal is a shorter gentleman, slightly shorter than myself - this never bothered me though, I was cool if he was. However, this was a situation I had never been confronted with - short guy syndrome. I did my best to gather myself and apologise but this had already tarnished my mood for the evening. They were kitty heels for God’s sake.

Once seated, Jamal instantly pulled out a 2-4-1 voucher to present to the waitress, something I would usually find savvy in a person but not today. I tried to make myself comfortable so that I could at least try and enjoy the evening ahead but to no avail, I was about to be interrogated. It should be noted that there can sometimes be a strange dynamic between Asian men and women from my experience: certain expectations suddenly exist, Asian men feel entitled to you, you are judged by harsher standards to white women and are almost always judged for your family, lifestyle and job prospects.

“So, why do you want to date me? Is it because I’m a doctor?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I did my best to roll my eyes but couldn’t hide the done-ness from my face.

“Erm, not really, you asked me and I thought it might be nice to go for one date at least”

“But you don’t want to date me because I’m a doctor, correct?” I’m not even embellishing his speech, this is exactly how he said it.

“No. To be honest I’m not studying medicine and if I could be arsed with it I would. Just not my bag. You have to study for years, right?”

“Mhm. So you study….Philosophy?”

“Yes”

“What do your family think of that?”

And there it was. Good old fashioned sexist Asian family values. I bit my cheeks to give me time to process everything I had just heard. He just assumed my family would be disappointed in me for studying Philosophy and not medicine, like the good Asian child he is to his parents. Luckily the food arrived at this point so I took my time replying to him.

“They’re fine with it”. Little prick.

My aubergine moussaka was thankfully delicious so all was not lost. I decided to move change the subject.

“So what do you do in your spare time?”

He mumbled something about being a football referee.  “Oh so when can I see you play?” 

This was the first occasion I’d seen him heartily bellow.

“That’s funny. I don’t think women should come to football matches. Put them in a different stadium”. 

I started shoving double spoonful's of mousaka into my mouth at this point just so I could get away sooner. A sexist Asian stereotypical football fanatic. Definitely not my bag. 

The rest of the conversation primarily comprised of small talk, nothing memorable. However, I do remember us asking each other what we looked for in an ideal man or woman.  “I like her to be skinny, pretty, straight hair, smart, good job, makes enough money but not more than me, don’t really want to her to be sporty.” I just smiled and nodded. How could this date get any worse? Then the time came to pay for the bill. Now I’m definitely not one of those women who expect a man to pay for the date but if a man like Jamal has such ludicrously sexist standards for women then I expect him to at least adhere to the basic tenants of traditional chivalry. Jamal was able to sink deeper, though. 

“So I bought the voucher along so that we could make the bill cheaper to split. My mum checks my bank statements so I don’t want her to see that I’ve been on a date.” And that was the cherry on top of the worst date of my life.  Fuck you, Jamal. 

[justtryingandshit-blog]

Why I no longer engage with interfaith work as a Muslim

Since graduating I have worked in a few causes loosely connected to one another within the third sector. I moved to London to work within a counter extremism think tank -  a long term goal from the age of 15. Within 6 months of working within counter extremism I realised it was not the sector for me: male heavy, pro government, a blatant disregard for human rights as well as privacy, and creating policies that disproportionately target every day Muslims. Working in counter extremism ultimately meant leaving my principles at the door and actively working against the very community I come from. Because I enjoy sleeping peacefully with a clear conscience; continuing in the field of counter extremism became a hard pass. I wanted to work at a grassroots level within the Muslim community.

An opportunity presented itself to work at an interfaith organisation between Jewish and Muslim communities and I took it. Anything to remove myself from my previous toxic work environment. My first impression of interfaith work was that it was a much needed cause that was proactively building bridges and breaking down barriers between isolated faith groups. Fairly airy fairy and feel good outcomes - what good possibly go wrong?

Before I embark on my take down of interfaith initiatives that involve Muslims, I should provide a brief overview of my own religious standing; I am a Muslim. Politically more than anything else and secular in most of my practices. My religiosity is personal and I rarely participate in organised religion. However, Muslims face a unique challenge in the UK, especially post 9/11 in that Islamophobia (anti-Muslim racism) has become institutionalised within our politics, media, education, job market and even within ‘airy fairy’ interfaith work. Regardless of the individual religiosity of Muslims, all Muslims are homogenised and discriminated against - this is what motivates me to work within Muslim movements and also why a large amount of interfaith work is problematic.

Regardless of my experience of Jewish/Muslim interfaith work, it is important to build bridges between the two faith groups because they are both similar faiths yet live in isolation from each other. This is for a range of factors: there are far more Muslims than Jews in the UK (3 million odd compared to 300,000), the Israeli-Palestinian conflict has partly become one about religious identity, and that Muslims usually possess the intersectionality of race and religious identity, something Jewish people do not necessarily have in the UK because the majority of Jews are white whilst the majority of Muslims are ethnic minorities (Pakistani, Bangladeshi, Somali etc.). Already there is a unique set of challenges that the Muslim community have to deal with that the Jewish community do not - this difference was rarely touched upon when I worked in this field. Interfaith initiatives rarely account for the other identities of Muslims except for faith. This therefore pits Muslim, Jewish and Christian communities as equal, which is understandable and honourable, but by extension equates the challenges that they face as communities. This is problematic because it erases the intersectionality of race and religion, a unique lived experience for Muslims, and the institutionalised challenges Muslims face that other faith groups do not (to the same degree). It cannot be helped that the majority of ‘representatives’ of Jewish and Christian communities are white and the majority of Muslim ‘representatives’ are ethnic minorities. Here is where the problem begins.

There is an automatic power imbalance when representatives of faith communities meet and organise. Because the power imbalance between white Jewish and Christian representatives and ethnic Muslim representatives is not addressed, often interfaith initiatives can be patronising in their very nature towards Muslims. This is partly because Muslims can better understand anti-antisemitism and anti-christian hate than Jews or Christians can understand Islamophobia because Islamophobia is a unique type of racism that targets not only the religion of Islam and its followers but those who are perceived to be Muslim because of their ethnicity. This is why some Sikh people are victims of hate crime as they are mistaken to be Muslim because of they are perceived to share the same ethnicity as some Muslims.

There were many times I became frustrated by my superiors at the Jewish/Muslim interfaith organisation because they regularly exhibited an ignorance of the lived experience of Muslims in Britain. I remember going for lunch with my superior, a boss ass Jewish woman, and being gobsmacked by some of her comments.

‘She said things like “Islamophobia isn’t institutionalised within the Conservative party like antisemitism is within the Labour party”, “Why should I be ashamed of being white? Reni Eddo Lodge is just so aggressive”. “The Muslim community haven’t been in the UK for as long as the Jewish community have. We are much more established, we’ll show Muslims how to better integrate”.  These comments were telling of her feminism: white feminism -  non radical and non intersectional. It regularly ignores the voices of black and brown women and only accepts non-radical black and brown feminist voices as tokens for their movement. This type of feminism is deeply embedded in the organisation because it doesn’t hold power to account. Even the Prime Minister has openly endorsed the movement, for God’s sake.

I found myself in the same position as I did when I worked within counter-extremism; I was leaving my principles at the door again and I didn’t fully believe in the movement. This isn’t to say interfaith work isn’t necessary. Antisemitism exists within Muslim communities and Islamophobia exists within Jewish ones, there must be greater efforts for solidarity between these groups in the face of growing bigotry - a troubling reality in the world right now. But white Jews and Christians really need to check their privilege or at least try harder to understand the lived experience of Muslim people because of their race as well as their religion. Otherwise interfaith work will forever be a patronising endeavour to ‘save’ Muslims from their reality as opposed to truly empowering Muslims.

Interfaith work must look at the full scope of challenges faced by the Muslim community and acknowledge its uniqueness. Time and time again Jews and Christians ally with non-radical Muslim activists who only seek to stamp out bigotries within the Muslim community but don’t challenge the bigotries that all Muslims face externally as a community. These token Muslim activists do nothing to challenge the inadvertent Islamophobia exhibited by the white faith activists they work with either because race isn’t seen as part of the interfaith sector’s forte.

Race equality organisations are now beginning to understand the complexities of Islamophobia and the lived Muslim experience. Race equality movements understand the institutionalised barriers Muslims face because they are looking at Islamophobia through the lens of race and not faith alone. This is why I prefer tackling Islamophobia through a race equality infrastructure and not an interfaith one. Interfaith by their very nature tackle Islamophobia through the lens of faith, and through the honourable notion of solidarity equate all faith experiences as the same. Interfaith therefore does a disservice to Muslims by ignoring the intersectionality of faith and race and does not account for the power imbalance within interfaith organisations when white and ethnic people must work together. Race equality movements are overshadowing interfaith work through appropriately supporting Muslim communities because they truly understand the Muslim lived experience.  It’s time for white interfaith activists to check their privilege. Until they do, interfaith work will become meaningless.

[justtryingandshit-blog]

Independence Day

I will never be as excited as I was as when I was leaving for university. This was an opportunity to start from scratch; begin a new life completely independently in a brand new place with zero parental restrictions. I was leaving an overbearing, complicated and (then) conservative household where every freedom had to be fought for, all movements outside of the house had to be accounted for and boys were out of the question. Luckily for me, university was never not an option in our household. The prospect of attending university was the sole motivation for completing my A levels.

Embarking on an eight hour train journey to Aberdeen was exciting. Independence day had finally arrived. Every hour in that train meant an hour closer to my freedom. I had never been to Scotland before but Aberdeen was going to be my new home for at least the next four years. I arrived at Aberdeen station which I found incredibly dreary. Everything was grey, it was raining and I was greeted by the most arrogant American wanker in a yellow shirt waiting to collect fresh recruits to the university. “Oh no way, you’re Pakistani? Did you know Pakistani’s are disproportionately represented for benefit fraud?”

I was gobsmacked but luckily for her I was too distracted by my new situation to retaliate. I just nodded and hopped into her minivan jam packed with other bewildered freshers. I was the only one to be dropped off to my halls, everybody else was to be shuttled across to the main campus. Great. I wasn’t even situated with all the other students. I remember walking into my tiny student room and I thought it was the best thing since sliced bread. The clanging of suitcases in the dorm indicated my new roommates. Roll on freshers week.

I was curious about clubbing but I didn’t drink. This seemed to be the only point of conversation for literally every other student I encountered at freshers week. “You don’t drink!?!?” “No way, how do you have fun!??!”. Yet I still went along to my first every club watching my new friends descend into vegetative states due to excessive alcohol consumption. Even from my first ever experience, I knew I hated clubbing. The music was awful, the smell even worse and the people...and students subject themselves to this every weekend? This was not what I would consider peak freedom.

Whilst other students cracked on with the traditional rituals of drinking themselves senseless every evening, I remember feeling my first bout of independence at Lidl. Standing amongst the isles with my unnecessarily large trolley, picking up any item that I wanted, no one to buy for but myself - I was in full control. This was freedom. I was a savvy shopper because of my Asian Mum. Being thrifty runs in the genes. Not on this occasion. I whizzed across to the aisle which I can only be described as junk central - that one aisle where crisps, chocolate filled croissants, cereal, and where sweeties of every colour and flavour were situated. This aisle was regularly dismissed by my mother yet here I was, standing in defiance, deliberating over peach loops and knock off german snickers. My natural inclination was to choose between the two, I remember snapping out of that sharpish and loading up on both the German snickers, peach loops and even doubling back to purchase the apple loops for good measure.

Nothing has come close to tasting freedom than the Lidl confectionary aisle in freshers week.

[justtryingandshit-blog]

Materialism has ruined Christmas, not Muslims

Everyone has fond sentimental memories of Christmas, it’s a distinctly festive period that the whole world acknowledges in one way or another. It’s a much needed break and a time for overindulgence and reflection for the year gone by. Hasn’t anybody noticed the Christmas ‘spirit’ diminishing for the past several years? It no longer feels warm, pleasant or fuzzy, but hollow, unfulfilling and tiresome.

Racist pricks conclude that Christmas has been “robbed” from them and that they are no longer “allowed” to display Christmas decorations in town centres because it might “offend” Muslims. Creeping sharia and all that. A halal drinking game should be invented for every alarmist “Muslims robbed Christmas” story that the daily express and mail concoct at this time of year. As a Muslim, I wholeheartedly agree that Christmas has indeed been robbed, not by my lot, but by incessant materialism.

It’s no secret that Muslims do not traditionally celebrate Christmas. Neither do Jews. Crusty Molvies (Muslim priests if you will) regularly remind everyday Muslims how sinful it is to celebrate a Christian holiday and by doing so we inadvertently accept that Jesus was the son of God (big no-no in Islam) and will, therefore, burn in hell. Nice. Tight Muslim parents are fine with this because they thankfully dodge spending unnecessary dosh on an infinite amount of presents - which is why Muslims are single handedly keeping the spirit of Christmas alive. Before I get lynched by Gammons and hardcore Muslims, hear me out.

Christianity has seriously declined in the UK. At least half of the UK population are not religious. Churches have become obsolete because of a sharp loss in membership. No longer do modern day Brits celebrate Christmas because they believe in honouring baby Jesus’ birthday. Instead, Christmas has become a secular celebration that is rooted in a vague religious tradition. The holiday has simply become about spending quality time with family, friends, getting cosy, eating good food and presents. Because Christmas is a national holiday, everyone uses this period to spend time with family and friends, get cosy, eat good food but without the hassle of buying presents. Surely this is the true meaning of secular Christmas, cherishing the time with people that you love the most, without the token material gestures.

Recently though, Brits have allowed Christmas to be hijacked by rampant materialism. Instead of associating the Christmas spirit with spending time with friends and family, John Lewis, Tesco, Debenhams, Asda, M&S et al. have associated the Christmas spirit with spending. Doesn’t your heart drop when you see Christmas advertisements in August? Or the odd shelf dedicated to seasonal biscuits in September? Then the fevered onslaught of CHRISTMAS displays on November? 12 days of Christmas should mean 12 days of Christmas, not the fourth quarter of Christmas.

Families now financially cripple themselves to ensure premier gifts make it under that plastic Christmas tree. The rat race of buying presents has become the crescendo that overwrites all sentimental value of Christmas. After all, gifts are certainly lovely to receive but the moment literally lasts for seconds. Gifts are meant to be the lovely extra, not the pièce de résistance. The cries for minorities to adhere to “British Values” has reached fever pitch in this country yet big fat American capitalism has replaced the depth of solemn British Christmas traditions. Yet I don’t see the Daily Express or the Daily Mail writing alarmist articles about “Black Friday” or “Halloween” becoming a genuine thing British people now recognise and participate in.

I have seen my own Mother getting carried away every year with decorations, buying a Christmas tree, buying little trinkets for us all to now buying multiple presents for each of us to see the look on our faces when we open them. I know my Mother could use the money for more crucial things, but now even my Muslim mum has prioritised presents over all else. We should probably stop being little heathens and stop this capitalist madness. We’re brown, Muslim and working class for Allah’s sake.

If Britain wishes to be back British then there must be a mass boycott of tacky Christmas displays in August, September, October, and even November. Value must be refocused on family time by cooking together, from scratch, and British people must learn the true value of Christmas from their Muslim neighbours - by practicing a gift free Christmas.

[justtryingandshit-blog]

Who are the “Left”?

2018 has been a dizzying year for politics. Many people are still in shock from 2016, a notoriously bad year that delivered the Brexit result amongst other shitty things. 2018, however, feels as though everyone has been thrown into a massive political battle but we don’t really know what side we are on - we just know that we must fight. Tensions are high and the country is divided. Political pundits try to make sense of the current situation but are consistently failing at capturing the true scale oh what’s happened, what’s happening, and what’s going to happen. Uncertainty is an understatement.

As a minority it is easy to suss the political atmosphere on the ‘ground’. Racism is on the rise, Muslim’s are having a hard time, particularly Muslim women and good old anti-semitism is back in fashion. From a minority view, it is fairly obvious that the far right are not only on the rise, but are being institutionalised. America, Hungary, Brazil, Sweden, have all elected far right governments. Whilst there are few contesting the rise of far right politics, I have noticed a bizarre argument trending in political commentary equating the far right with the “far left”.

Often, the argument places the blame of popularity for the far right at the doorstep of the left or at the very least equates far left movements being as dangerous as the far right. “They’re both as bad as each other”. “The far right may be racist, violent and gaining popularity but the far left are just the same, they use identity politics”.

I don’t publicly counter these arguments because they are so ludicrous, I lazily assumed the vast majority of the general public would think the same. However, after the Charlottesville terror attack perpetrated by a far right white supremacist, Donald Trump addressed the nation with a speech in which he drew a moral equivalency between ‘both sides’. Both sides being fascists and anti-fascists. This argument is now being used by the upper echelons of power and this should worry people.

When one refers to the “far right”, automatically there is a coherent picture of what that term means and what organisations it refers to, perhaps even political figures and far right activists like Tommy Robinson. However, when someone refers to the “far left” the image is more elusive. There is no clear image that pops up in one’s mind, the term “far left” then becomes a subjective opinion of what constitutes as far left and here lies the problem. The far left in the UK are nowhere near as organised or violent as the far right, yet time and time again everytime we hear the of the far right, the far left are almost always mentioned as an arch enemy of the far right that would be just as bad if not worse. This is absurd because there is no such thing as the “far left” in this country that manifests itself in the same capacity and infrastructure as the far right.

So why are people doing this?

Politics has become polarised. Whenever there is an economic downturn, socialism becomes popular and the far right is not always far behind competing for an opportunity for power. The middle ground in politics has given way and no longer has the powerful stronghold it had on politics even a few years ago. It is often centrists who draw this false equivalency between the left and the far right, even though we haven’t seen a radical leftist party or movement manifest itself. As someone who loosely identifies with “the left” (it never used to be a dirty word) I find the arguments against the left absurd. Often the left are smeared with accusation of “identity politics”. Can someone please define this term correctly? Nobody knows what this term precisely means but will be use in an argument to discredit you or shut down the debate. When one dares ask what identity politics means, the first phrase is often “oh er….cultural appropriation”. So basically, identity politics is only a negative thing when minorities, particularly ethnic minorities choose to empower themselves and take ownership of their identity. Not only is it then ludicrous to compare the left to the far right but it is also racist to dismiss the left on the basis of identity politics.

The far left is not the same as the far right because the far left doesn’t exist. So if centrists could please stop banging that drum and focus their energies on actual violent white supremacists that would be great.

[justtryingandshit-blog]

Why London really isn’t all that

London is known for being the most multicultural city in the world. With its vibrant communities and endless opportunities, who wouldn’t want to live in London? Moving to the English capital is seen as a necessary aspiration for many outside of London and by outside of London I mean the rest of the UK.

Due to severe lack of investment in the Midlands and the North of England, coupled with austerity and poor transport links - young people rarely live in the cities and towns they have grown up in. From my experience, if one wishes to pursue a stable career then London is the place to be. It is the financial hub, home of startups, TV, politics, journalism, real estate, etc. Despite London being incredibly competitive and expensive to live, I can’t really fault the opportunity to build a career here. That, and the convenience of London; you get used to the high tech aspect of London, how every nook and cranny accepts card and how there are excellent transport links to wherever you need to go. As a city, though, London is so far up its own arsehole to the point where the rest of the UK is deemed irrelevant absolutely sickens me.

Who the fuck does London think it is?

Opportunity and convenience are only two factors out of many others, yet these factors are enough to hold any person hostage to this god forsaken city.

London is hyped up for almost everything on a global scale, especially culturally. Like an over zealous, desperate, conceited little child competing in some sort of race, it forcibly elbows the rest of the UK in rib cage and cheats its way national finish line as the only city worth living in and as the only city worth representing the UK. Fuck those outside of London who are merely backward simpletons that haven’t bothered to catch up with the fast paced, shiny capital.

As a Muslim woman of colour living in the UK, there is no doubt that I struggle with my British identity. I often feel that Britain doesn’t deserve my allegiance given the way the state has behaved towards its minorities, especially Muslims. I do my best to avoid conversations about British identity, but when confronted with them, I attack British entitlement and declare that Britain must work harder to have us on its side. But if I am honest with myself, I do feel an affinity to the Britain that has been left behind. The North and the Midlands has so much to offer. They come with their own cultural bubbles that are strong, uniting and underrated. London has been hogging the limelight for decades but Manchester, Liverpool, Birmingham, Glasgow, Cardiff, etc. are energetic cities to live in, have a rich cultural history, are far more affordable and are chasing London’s tail. 

These cities don’t need defending by me. There is currently a mass exodus of people who are being priced out of London to pursue a new life elsewhere.

Britain has made a huge mistake in over investing in London and neglecting the rest of the UK. It is coming up to 2019 and what significant improvements have been to the North? When I lived in the Midlands, tube strikes and news regarding London would reach national news - this is hardly reciprocated in London. The arrogance of everyday Londoners who dismiss anyone outside of London as devoid of culture or intelligence is grating. Not because it is inadvertently insulting but because they are so wrong. Many rarely travel to other parts of the UK, and why would they? London ‘has it all’. Give me a break.

Living in London is so expensive it’s eye watering. Once, I went to see a gig with a friend for which two tickets cost £11. When we entered the venue and approached the bar, 2 bog standard pints cost £12. Aye, more than the tickets. The price of living is so expensive, that I have to work 3 jobs to properly afford a reasonable lifestyle here. When I come home and switch on some Netflix, I get suggested aspirational shows about how to own property in London with (usually) two ditzy hipster gits converting a barge or installing a couple of shelves within a shipping container. Many Londoners don’t know what it is like to have a garden. I grew up in a red brick terraced house in a poor area in the Midlands. At the time, I was slightly ashamed to bring friends around because the area was notoriously dangerous and the fly tipping capital of England. Inside comprised of a big living, a big kitchen, a massive garden, 3 big bedrooms and a cellar. Only moving to London do I now realise that my family home was ‘big’ and that I would probably never live in such as big, lovely home again. If we moved our 3 bedroom, red brick house to London, it would be worth millions. That’s how ridiculous the housing market is here.

Not only that but London has created a cheap identity of itself that forces its symbolism into the minds of naive tourists. Big red bus, red telephone boxes, the wheel, houses of parliament, the fucking underground. The underground has been a consistently unpleasant experience since I got here. I regularly lose 2 hours a day to the underground and I never feel sentimental about minding the fucking gap. The very imagery London uses to appeal to tourists is never what Londoners use or feel sentimental about. It’s a big fat cheap lie.

I fear that I will be trapped in London forever due to work and convenience. I don’t buy that London has anymore culture than the rest of Britain, just unduly consistent funding to keep this big, polluted, entitled sham of a city alive.

With Brexit fast approaching Britain needs to unite every quarter of this country. The rest of the UK is in dire need of hope in the guise of investment, opportunity, and affordability. Britain must begin by pulling its head out of London’s smokey arsehole and realising that there is life beyond London.

[justtryingandshit-blog]

The Scottish Outdoors

“Going for walks and hikes and shit is such a white thing to do”. This proclamation came from a new friend I made through diversity training. Sitting in a trendy crowded London dessert bar, no one batted an eyelid, nor did I expect them to. This is because this statement is pretty much true; an active appreciation for the outdoors is a primarily a white middle-class endeavour.

As someone from near the Peak District I had some appreciation of the outdoors, my family would go for short flat walks to the countryside or a national park very occasionally if it was a hot summer's day. What I distinctly remember from those outings was the disproportionate amount of friendly white middle-class people that would usually greet us when we walked past them. You could tell they were seasoned walkers as they were usually clad with expensive looking windbreakers, walking boots, and other alien outdoor equipment. I always found it really strange how there were hardly ever any other ethnic people around.

I lived in Scotland for over 6 years, moving from the Midlands to Aberdeen, close to the beach when I was 18. Of course the weather never permitted a dip in the sea, it was always freezing cold, even on the hottest day of the year. That never stopped me going for walks along the beach whenever I could. There is a distinct awe striking beauty about the sea that I don’t think anyone could really get bored of. Only when I left Aberdeen did I realise how much of a positive impact it had on my mental health. Some of my most memorable and happiest experiences occurred with friends or partners; going for walks along the beach, exploring sand dunes, walking up a Monro or camping. My favourite memory is of making a last minute decision to undertake the North Coast 500 by car with my partner. The North Coast 500 is a trail going 500 around the entire hook of Scotland, starting in the Highlands, Inverness. Off me and my new boyfriend went in his tiny Mazda with a tiny tent and a couple of rucksacks.

I wasn’t prepared for the abundance of gorgeous, awesome, rugged Scottish landscape. There were hours we spent in the car too astonished to speak given the endless rolling scenery. It was like something out of a fantasy film, I’d only seen a landscape like this in pictures and expensive calendars. The week and half road trip felt like a lifetime and we both came back to Aberdeen permanently impacted for the better. The trip definitely bought us closer together and laid the foundation of our relationship.

The Scottish outdoors is humbling. Everyday insecurities, anxieties, and other tiresome worries do not operate here. The outdoors engages a primal aspect of your being, where you are forced to live in the moment and focus on putting one foot in front of the other. In these moments your mind has time to naturally recalibrate and de-stress. This is state of mind is how human’s best operate, how we are supposed to operate. The outdoors is where we confront who we really are - it is soul-making. Of course it can be physically challenging, dangerous even. But totally worth it. I am grateful that I was able to experience the Scottish outdoors and I miss it dearly which is why I want others to experience it too. When I meet Londoners who are allergic to anything outside of London, including the outdoors I feel sorry for them. They’re in the same category as fussy eaters - they don’t know what they are missing. The exploration of the outdoors for leisure kicked off in Victorian times and has remained a distinct part of British tradition since then. I can therefore understand the aversion many people of colour have to the outdoors, as it is a smug past time almost exclusive to white people who have the privilege of parents, grandparents, family members, disposable income and free time to learn about the outdoors, explore it, and most often grow up appreciating it. This is a luxury that people of colour do not necessarily have access to, particularly the knowledge, which is key. White middle-class people cannot have a monopoly on reaping the benefits of exploring the outdoors, it is an experience to be shared by everybody. It’s low cost, good for your physical health, excellent for your mental health and a beautiful experience that I think people of colour would love, if they could be shown how. Right now, in London, my only solace is the park next door that pales in comparison to Aberdeen beach, and that one day I shall return to Scotland.

[justtryingandshit-blog]

How to start preparing for a career in the 3rd sector

When I started university in 2010 it was in the middle of an oil boom. Aberdeen is the oil capital of Europe and during that time, full of employment opportunities even if your degree didn’t really specialise in anything particularly oil related. Many students believed that the oil industry was a career safety net and did not take extra curricular measures for their career development during their degree. However, those students who have a moral conscience and/or could not give a damn about the oil industry, our career path was less secure. 

The third sector is consistently underfunded and since the coalition government took power in 2010, the sector has been hit with a series of detrimental austerity cuts significantly reducing the sectors capacity to function efficiently. The sectors reputation of being unstable, short-term, competitive and close knit precedes it, often unfairly. The ability to recruit talented students interested in social justice, making a difference and applying their passion is stunted by this reputation, especially in the hands of shoddy university careers services who have little to no practical knowledge of how to embark on a career in the sector. Social justice and fighting for what you believe in needn’t be a hobby or a weekend protest. It is very much a viable career option, if you know how. As someone who has successfully entered a career in the 3rd sector, I want to show other students how to begin a career in it too.

Here are a few tips and tricks to get you started.

What turns you on? It’s good to do some soul searching about what causes you are passionate about. It could be anything, what makes you angry? What are you concerned about? Have you encountered any issues in your life that could have been changed had there been support in the form of an organisation? Watch the news. What issues stick out for you the most? Human rights? Climate change? Feminism? Race equality? Brexit? Terrorism? For me, identity was key. As a Muslim woman growing up in post 9/11 Britain, there was plenty of issues that I encountered because of my identity. Now, as someone who has taken that passion of wanting to better the Muslim experience of Britain, I have made a career out of it because of the third sector.

Get to know your grassroots.

Once you know what kind(s) of causes you are into, find groups that meet up regularly around your chosen issue. This may seem difficult if you are not a student, however, if you are, there is no better place than university for these groups. Many students dismiss societies because of the petty drama that occurs within them, the workload outside of what is already a demanding degree and that they are lame. Wrong. They may be all of these things, but one thing you should know right now is that having been a part of a society at university on your CV is valuable. It shows that you could prioritise heavy workloads, went above and beyond what was required with you, teamwork, organisational skills, etc. etc. The good news that joining a society is even better for your career prospects if you are thinking about going into the third sector. This is because charities and organisations need students more than students need them. If you are a student propagating their message through the form of a society, this is a huge favour to the charity. They even have dedicated staff (outreach officers) to spread their message to youth, colleges and university campuses.Take for example Amnesty International: if you joined a local university society for them it is considered a grassroots extension of Amnesty International. You are doing their work for them by spreading the message, putting on events, organising talks, attending protests. It looks phenomenal for Amnesty International that there are students out there organising on behalf of the organisation and potentially recruiting more supporters. This is only a net benefit for them. I know many students who were considered ‘unwashed lefties’ at university who joined societies that were an extension of official campaigns such as Stop the Traffik, Save the Children, Green Peace etc. Some of these former students have gone onto work for these organisations after graduating, almost immediately because of the work they put into their societies at university. Setting up or joining a society gets you known by the organisation, provides you invaluable contacts and gives you a leg up from others who are blindly applying for their jobs on offer.

Create a ‘clicktivist’ profile

Nowadays many companies check out your online presence before accepting you into their organisation. If you are a millennial, there is probably no way around this so it’s best to take control of your online image and take advantage of the benefits. Create a public profile on facebook, twitter etc. that you are happy for employers, organisations, fellow activists and general public to view. Once you’re set up, start posting things relating to your interests and causes. Start by posting about current news items pertaining to your cause or interests. Once you get comfortable doing this, start writing a short commentary with every article, get your views out there.

By setting your profile to public, you will attract the attention of other people in this space, creating a valuable network, getting yourself known within that network and inadvertently building an online portfolio. Start writing a blog about what matters to you and keep at it. Don’t worry about it being popular or gaining traction. The point is to build a portfolio for the right people to eventually look at when they look you up. Consistency is key. If they see you’ve had an active interest in their cause for a consistent amount of time, this is incredibly favourable. They’re called ‘activists’ for a reason.

Build. A. Network.

They say it’s who you know, not what you know. That’s partly true. There’s a reason why employers ask for references from at least two people because your character matters to an organisation. For people who already know you and your character, it becomes easier for them to vouch for you, especially if they work at an organisation that you want to work for too. Networking may be tedious, but the benefits can be life changing. With the internet, networking has become easier. I started becoming interested in my cause around 15. I spent a lot of time on the internet and met a lot of my activist friends through online debating. This was a good way of learning the sector, the big players, the arguments, competitors and key issues. I made contacts with many people who worked in organisations that I eventually went onto work for. They relied on my online character, my profiles, my arguments, my commitment. This all came in handy after I graduated. I remember drunkenly calling an online friend who worked for a think tank and told him I hated working at the opticians. I really wanted to break into this space and he put me forward for an interview. The rest is history. Twitter is activist heaven. Even the Queen is on twitter. It’s probably the most valuable profile you will need to network. Start retweeting things you find interest and relating to your cause. You will often retweet people who work in the organisations you are interested in working for. Start tweeting about things you are passionate about, this will attract other activist who often have a large network that you will want to tap into for opportunities in the sector. Again, consistency is key. This may seem like slow work but think about it like you are planting a seed to eventually eat the fruit.

So, with this advice under your belt you should have a better idea for what it takes to break into the third sector. Don’t worry if you are coming to the end of your university life, it’s never too late to start.

[justtryingandshit-blog]

A level results and other regrets.

I remember my A level results day very well. Not necessarily because of the events that occured but by how I felt. My big plan was to achieve A B B grades and attend Birmingham University. After spending the entire night clicking refresh on the UCAS website to see what I had achieved, I remember slamming my laptop shut and going for a walk at 5am, not in the park next door but on the main road, where I genuinely considered jumping in front of a car. Obviously this was melodramatic, even I knew that. It was also a 20mph speed limit. I didn’t make the grades to attend Birmingham, instead, I was going to Aberdeen University, Scotland. I had never even been to Scotland. I had chosen Aberdeen because the entry requirements were reasonably low and it was a respectable educational institution. It was also one of the first on the drop down menu for second choices. Come 7am I walked back home, sheepish that I had been cocky enough to choose a university 500 miles away as a second choice because I was that foolishly confident about making those grades.

After getting over my strop, my concern shifted to what my Mum would think. Because this was a double whammy; not only did I not make the grades I needed, I was going to attend a university absolutely miles away. For my Mum, coping with both of these realities at the same time was going to be hard. Afterall, my melodrama is learned, not organic. I open the front door and low and behold, Mum is standing at the bottom of the staircase with a tray of desi tea and biscuits for breakfast to wake me with. I currently do not have the level of articulation required to explain how shitty that feeling was. Knowing that you are disappointing someone feels infinitely worse than being disappointed, especially when they are about to welcome you

“Where have you been beta? Did you get your results already?”

Before I knew it, I was running up those stairs into my bedroom, ugly crying into my pillows, snot and all. This was the cowards way of letting my Mum know that it was not good news. Growing up in a south Asian family there are certain expectations relating to educational attainment that come with intense pressures. Asian parents are ultimately coming from a good place, but ultimately Asian parents don’t really believe failure is an option.

My Mum trodded up the stairs, into my room and sat beside me. I think she understood that I had disappointed myself more than anybody else which is probably why she remained calm and supportive. “Don’t worry beta, these things happen. Stop crying”.

This was a mercy that I wasn’t expecting. When I calmed down we spoke about options. One of those options was re-doing my A levels. Absolutely fucking not. I couldn’t bear to commit another year to the most painstaking qualification I have ever undertaken. A levels are consistently devalued, overlooked and merely considered a passport to higher education. In hindsight, A levels were harder than my degree. Before the end of the day, the reality of attending Aberdeen University had set in. My Mum googled where exactly Aberdeen was located. Only when she had realised the sheer distance did she remain silent for the rest of the evening. I was going far away, 500 miles, for 4 years (at least). Being young, impatient and desperate for validation I took my mum’s silence as further proof that she was disappointed in me. At this point in my life I was desperate to fly the nest, the further the better. Only now, 8 years later, I realise that it was not disappointment my mother felt, but the reality of permanent change to the foundation of our small family. 

I’m grateful that she supported my choice to move to Aberdeen, despite only now realising how dramatic the change from Birmingham (40 mins on train) to Aberdeen (8 hours on train) would have been for her. I remember my Mum sending me off to Aberdeen at the train station. I boarded my train gleefully. This was my freedom, power, and independence. Looking through the window, my mum looked desperate to remain strong, even though this meant fundamental change, distance and independence from her daughter. I can only now imagine her strength to override her sorrow to witness her daughter relieved to get away from her family home, into a brand new chapter. I wish I was as supportive of my mother as she was for me.