Artistry

Spoken Word Artist, Ainee Fatima, Speaks her Mind

Only eighteen years old, Ainee Fatima, is a force to be reckoned with on the Chicago spoken word scene. This young firecracker is a two-time winner of Chicago Public Radio’s Louder Than a Bomb contest. Her poems speak openly and eloquently about topics all young Muslims go through growing up, yet few Imams know how to address – How do you fall in love Islamically? How do you keep your iman when the boy next-door’s lips are just so kissable? Where do your parents’ cultural tradition end and your identity begin? And why can’t parents just understand…?! In her own words, Fatima talks about her personal struggles with faith and tradition, understanding parents, and her hopes for her writing.

EM: You’re so young! Who or what inspired you to start writing?

AF: Back in 7th grade I used to go to an all girls Islamic school. I was one of the only girls who was allowed to go to public school. So it was really hard to talk to girls there because they had only gone to Islamic school, they weren’t as social and open as I was. So I would read a lot and then started writing. It was my escape.

EM: When did you first perform your poems for an audience? What was that experience like?

AF: Freshman year my English teacher noticed I would write in class and not do the work. He said, “Why don’t you come after school and join the poetry team?” I went to one of their practices and these guys were really good. My poems were really amateur then, everything would rhyme. They didn’t have substance or depth. It was just words, but practice made perfect.

Sophomore year we had tryouts for the new team. The first time I performed it was pretty scary. My first poem was about how when I was six years old I asked my mom what death was and she couldn’t really answer… because how do you explain that to a six year old? So the whole conversation was about what death was. When she explained the Day of Judgment it scared me and it sort of impacted my thinking afterwards.

EM: Your poems speak of the difficulties of being a young Muslim woman in America, and the struggles in finding love, cultural acceptance, while keeping your Iman. Are these reflections of your own personal experience?

AF: Most of them are from personal experience, like Ramadan Reflections. I think every Muslim girl goes through finding a crush and being like oh-my-God I can’t do this. The poem was exaggerated a lot but it happens. It was really hard writing and sharing it all. But it’s real story telling and no one addresses these issues in our community.

EM: Your poem, Ramadan Reflections, recently won Chicago Public Radio’s Louder Than a Bomb contest. Were you nervous at all, putting out such an intimate reflection?

AF: My coach was actually worried I might get bashed on because some may think it’s not representing Islam in the right way. So we talked to the English department director and principal about what would happen. We had to call my parents in. My mom didn’t really understand it. So my dad had to read it. It was really nerve-wracking. He just sat there and didn’t say anything for a little bit. Then he asked me who it was about. I told him it wasn’t about anyone. He told me to remove two lines and then he let me perform it.

That night, when we were practicing, I noticed a lot of Muslims came to that show. I noticed a lot of hijabis. It was the scariest thing ever. But after the show, one lady emailed my coach and said how brave I was because she was thirty-four years old and could never do that. She’d been writing poetry for years but she’d never written like that because of our community. It was a really different poem for people to hear. That’s why we won that year.

EM: What do you think are some of the biggest challenges facing American Muslim teenagers today?

AF: I think it’s compromising our faith with our desires. We’re at an age where we don’t think much, we just do. But I learned to be patient. I know I struggled with the hijab. I stopped wearing the hijab after Islamic school, in like eighth or ninth grade. I would sneak behind my parents and take it off.  It just seemed unfair. I didn’t get why I had to wear it. Then in tenth grade I started going to weekend classes with the girls from my school. It was like a spiritual cleansing, learning about faith and stuff. That made me want to become more religious and I chose to wear hijab. Personally, I think it’s the best choice I made. It’s a struggle with your feelings and religion, which can get really hard sometimes. I know a lot of kids who are tempted to drink and date. That is really unnecessary to me. But it can be hard adapting yourself to this religion when you are living in a western society.

EM: Have your parents heard Barbies in Saris? How did they react?

AF: This year as part of the Louder Than a Bomb competition there was a Duo Slam contest. My partner and I won with Barbies in Saris, so we performed on stage for finals. My dad came to see me perform for the first time. We had the whole house laughing because you don’t hear this kind of stuff from two brown girls. After we performed my dad didn’t really say anything. When we got home, though, he said that I was making fun of our religion. I told him that it wasn’t religion I was making fun of, it was culture. But if you listen to the chorus, it asks real heartfelt questions, “Do our feelings come first or does our religion? Do our needs mean anything compared to submission.”

 

EM: What are some funny rishta scenarios you’ve been through with your parents?

AF: I get a lot apparently. Every time we go to weddings. One time I was at this mosque and this lady came up to me. She complimented me saying, I like your eyeliner. Then proceeded to ask 20 questions about my life and where I grew up. It was weird talking to a stranger and then she casually mentioned she had a son “my age”… He was actually 28 years old. [haha]

 

EM: You’re pretty clear about what you don’t want in a guy, so what do you want?

AF: Well, I don’t want to get married right now. But I don’t want to marry within the culture. I want to marry outside of the culture. My parents want me to marry like a Hyderabadi/doctor/who is five years older and I don’t really want that. Islam was spread by cultures mixing and I want to marry someone outside of the culture. It’s a beautiful thing when cultures mix and keeping within your culture is so backward.

EM: What advice would you give other Muslim girls who are struggling to find that middle ground between the tradition of their parents and the culture they’ve grown up in?

AF: With me it’s been more culture than religion. People think Islam is strict. But it’s not Islam. It’s our culture. I would say, hear your parents out. I don’t do that. I argue with my parents a lot about everything. So I’m kinda hypocritical for saying that.  But I see my younger sisters going through it, too. So I tell them to try not to argue. To talk to my parents, tell them, “I understand your point of view.” I always get in arguments to get what I want and I wish I hadn’t. The more fights you have, the more it severs their trust. It’s better to wait until they’re calm and explain.

EM: How did you get involved with A Tribe Called West?

AF: It’s our school team. Most of our team is Muslim. One of the boys converted. The others are my brother and one of my other friends. The year we won, we officially changed our name to A Tribe Called West. Yes, we ripped of the rap group Tribe Called Quest. We even had Adidas jackets made! Our team is like my family. My coach is really understanding. He’s like my second dad. Working on poems, which are so personal, everyday afterschool, we became family. This is our last year together because we are seniors. At our last performance in semi-finals we all cried because we no longer will be able to see each other every week. I don’t feel comfortable going to another team in college. I can’t imagine being on another team and having other people edit my poems. Like our coach sits down and takes his red pen out rips our poem line by line. That’s how we construct our poems. We go through months not a few weeks. Like Ramadan took six months.

EM: Are there any Muslim poets or artists you follow?

AF: I know of Suahir Muhammad. I don’t really have Muslim poets as role models. I write about my experience and I haven’t found another Muslim poet who writes like that. I do follow people like Billy Collins and Brian Turner. They’ve come to my school and their poetry is very simple and the images are profound. Everything is there. It’s story telling and a narrative you can follow perfectly.

 

EM: You’ll be graduating high school this year, what are your future goals?

AF: I want to go to Oakton College here for two years and then transfer to DePaul University and become an English teacher. A lot of people have told me to go to pursue poetry or something, but I don’t think I can do much with that. I’d like to become an English teacher and continue to do poetry on the side. Try to get published later.

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