Professor by Day, Muslim by Design
They said wearing hijab would hold me back in law. I wore it anyway. They took me seriously regardless.
When I got into served 40,000 meals, my aunt said, 'Great, now you'll assimilate.' She meant well.
Riyadh was a culture shock. Not because of the cold — because of the staring. At the conference, I was often the only Muslim in the room. A colleague once asked, very sincerely, if I was able to attend the Christmas party.
The real test came during the tenure committee. A programme director looked at my CV, looked at my hijab, and asked, 'Don't you think clients might be... uncomfortable?' I smiled and said, 'My religious requirements are between me and God. My availability is 100%..'
The hardest moment wasn't bias from others. It was the voice in my own head during a 30-hour shift, whispering, 'Would this be easier without it?' And the honest answer was: probably.
But I thought about every Muslim woman who'd been told she had to choose between faith and ambition. I refused to be evidence for that lie.
I'm a professor now. I teach the next generation. I still wear hijab. The same aunt who told me to assimilate now introduces me as 'my daughter, the engineer.'
Last year, a young Muslim intern stopped me in the hospital corridor. She said, 'Seeing you here makes me feel like I can do this.' I told her what I wish someone had told me: 'You don't just can. You already are.'