What Courage Looks Like

Long, jet-black and curly, that is how this description of courage begins – long, jet-black and curly.  Oh, and yes, stunningly beautiful.

Five of us, four from the World Vision office in Jerusalem, and me, a very appreciative board member, are in a SUV headed toward a school building dedication in a small village of the West Bank, Palestine – an all girls’ school, by the way.  We are driving up a narrow blacktop road on the crest of a low mountain range.  The valley below us is simply divine, as in filled with images out of the Old Testament.  Sheep and goats graze in fresh, green pastures, with young shepherd boys and girls keeping watch. Fields and gardens stand out against the landscape, divided by precisely constructed and meticulously kept stonewalls, golden in the sun – “The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; I have a goodly heritage” (Psalm 16:6).

We rounded a bend in the road and there she stood, a young woman with long, jet-black and curly hair – and yes, she is stunningly beautiful.  But it is her hair that stands out, because it is her hair that is out – out for all to see.  Our driver, a Palestinian Christian man, does a double take, and then he is immediately embarrassed.  He says, “I was not staring at her just because she is beautiful,” – actually, I was – “but because she is not wearing the hijab.”  Okay, I noticed that too, but didn’t know how noticeable it should have been – outstanding, as I discovered.

“Are there Christians up here?” he asked his two Palestinian women colleagues.

“No,” responded one of the young women in the vehicle.  “There are no Christians here.  She is Muslim.”

Stating the by now obvious, our driver said, “Her hair is uncovered.”  He says this with awe and wonder in his voice.  “Her hair is uncovered.”

“Yes,” said the young woman. “She is making a statement about her right to understand Islam in a way that is less strict and narrow.”

Our driver is shaking his head. “She is very brave,” he said.

“Yes she is,” agreed both of the women in the SUV.  “Yes she is.”

There is tremendous pressure exerted on Palestinian Muslim women to wear the traditional dress, which of course, is centered around the hijab – the head-covering scarf.  This is not just to please religious norms.  The fact is that up until a decade or so ago Palestinian women were among the more progressive of Muslim women.  Women wearing traditional Muslim dress is a relatively modern phenomenon that comes out of the desire to declare themselves to be distinctively Muslim.  When you have no national identity, then you seek something from somewhere else.  Muslim women, young and old, have turned to Islam for an identity they can claim and be proud of.  Who can blame them?  And who can judge them as well?  Certainly not me!

But not all Muslim women are turning to Islam for their identity.  Some seem to be turning inward, or at least not simply outward, if that makes sense to anyone besides me.  (I expect it might make sense to this young woman with the long, jet-black and curly hair.)  I wonder why she would do this.  Why buck societal norms?  What kind of young woman shows this kind of courage?  What kind of parent raises a daughter with the courage to do this?  Is her mother brave too?  Is her father secure enough to allow “his women” to be their own persons?  I wonder these things because it is my desire that there be more like her, and so I want to know how she became like this, so brave and independent.

Don’t you wonder too?  Don’t you hope her tribe increases?  Don’t you want to raise children and grandchildren like her? 

We didn’t stop to talk with her.  I wish we had.  I didn’t think about doing so until well past the opportunity.

I’m left to think that she may be a modern day Tamar (Genesis 38), Rahab (Joshua 2), Deborah (Judges 4), Yael (Judges 4-5), Ruth or Esther.  I’m certainly in the place where these biblical models come to mind.  Of course, she may not be anyone to model anyone after.  She may just be another pretty face with long, jet-black, curly hair - a head turner, but not a trend setter.

I’m betting not though.  I'm betting some little girls are watching.  Any takers?

If you or I were to have the courage to stand up to societal norms, to seek our identity from inside out, instead of from the other way in, what would that look like?  And more importantly, what would that take?  What would be the cost? And how would we know how to count it?