Twice this week I’ve heard stories of hateful verbal attacks in public. I am quite certain that there have been dozens and dozens and that these are only two that I have encountered in the news, but it makes me think about how we ever came to the place where we believed in our inalienable right to share every trivial opinion loudly and vehemently.

The first incident was a woman (I confess, I can’t recall whether she is Muslim or not) traveling on a bus who endured much hollering from a white man, telling her to “go back home” and “get out of our country.” Of course, as it turns out, she was born in the US but, apparently because she is half-Iranian, this man assumed she was both a foreigner and a terrorist, and none of the other passengers on the bus intervened on her behalf. It was only when she could take no more and decided to yell back at him and defend herself that the bus driver finally kicked him off the bus. The second involved a woman in Southern California who was driving her two small children somewhere during the day as she wore a hijab. A man in a large truck sped up next to her car, flipped her off and began spewing curse words at her, intimidating her by swerving his truck next to her car and honking before he finally turned a corner and drove away. She made it clear that the things he was hollering were in regards to her hijab and not her driving skills.

As I think about these stories and consider the number of times I’ve been spoken to in a rude or hateful way by a total stranger, I am left wondering who ever told us that it was okay to talk to other people like that? I am a supporter of free speech, but to me, free means that we are open to expressing our ideas and beliefs in a way that encourages discourse, understanding, and education. Free doesn’t mean unfiltered, unnecessary blathering. I frankly don’t care if you, man-on-the-sidewalk, like my outfit today, or the way my ass moves in my skirt. It isn’t important to me whether you think someone’s Spandex shorts are “gross!” or that guy’s purple mohawk is “faggy.” I’m pretty sure nobody else cares, either. Even if you’re going for a laugh, it isn’t funny. It’s just obnoxious.

What makes us think that our opinions are so important that everyone needs to hear them all the time? Even if you are a person who is nervous around those who practice the Muslim faith, I don’t think it’s important to share that on a bus, especially not in a way that feels threatening to others. I even feel like it is your prerogative to share your off-the-cuff thoughts (and true beliefs) in your social media feed – fine, go ahead. But directing your snotty or disparaging opinions or, worse, propositions or hate speech, at one particular person or group of people does nothing but make you a bully and a narcissist. Maybe you like Donald Trump enough to emulate him in public, but it is really unnecessary. The world doesn’t need more of that.

Perhaps two simple guidelines can help here.

You don’t need to say every single thing you think. Honestly. If it isn’t going to make the world a better place, if you haven’t been asked for your opinion, if it isn’t kind or supportive, maybe it ought to just stay inside.
Your thoughts are not facts. I know, sometimes that’s hard to wrap your head around, but just because you think something doesn’t make it right. There are many, many things we can’t know about other people’s lives and circumstances, and if you’re at all unsure of whether or not you know for certain that there even IS a “right” and “wrong” in this particular case, maybe it ought to just stay inside.

Two recent international news items have wormed their way into my consciousness of late and, while I confess that I am uneasy about my relative lack of knowledge on the subject, I am somehow still compelled to wonder out loud. Both issues have at their core, the issue of Muslim women wearing head coverings, often called hajib or naqib.

France banned the wearing of any overt religious symbols in schools in 2004. These were not limited to Muslim headscarves by any means, and the purported reasoning behind it was to somehow erase visual differences between citizens in order to promote a more cohesive society. The most recent proposal would ban women from wearing their naqib in public at all, again supposedly to promote acceptance of others in French society, but also because some lawmakers are offended by their belief that Muslim women are often forced to don these head coverings and they want to rid them of this discrimination.

Today MSNBC ran a story about women in Turkey who are effectively barred from getting jobs because of their choice to wear headscarves. Because Turkey is a “secular” country, these traditional head coverings are prohibited for public officials and women in public places. There is a fragile balance between the Muslim ruling party and the secular bureaucracy and much fear on both sides that the scales will tip in the other side’s favor. The women are left wondering if they will be able to use their education and passion for careers and lives outside of their homes and places of worship.

For me, this issue has very little to do with religious or political beliefs and simply leaves me scratching my head. For the people who claim to be advocating for women’s rights by banning the headwear, I wonder how much of their rhetoric is genuine versus an excuse to get rid of something that makes them uncomfortable. I know the issue is complicated, and it may well be that some women are forced to dress in this manner by the men in their lives, but isn’t it just as repressive to force other women to remove their naqib when they don’t want to? I truly believe in the notion that individuals ought to be free to express themselves in most any way they choose, so long as it isn’t offensive or hurtful to others. And if there really are women who are feeling intimidated or abused by their husbands or fathers, in any way, maybe the French government ought to spend their time beefing up domestic violence resources rather than telling others how to dress. At this point, there is a small minority of French citizens who are being singled out and forced to act in ways they aren’t comfortable with and, as an American, I can only see trouble coming down the tracks.

In Turkey, the issue seems that much more insidious because of the blatant nature of it. There are those who are unashamedly vocal about their discrimination against women who wear headscarves and see no problem denying them access to the professions for which they have trained. I know of no similar way in which men are set apart from society because they choose to display their religious preferences. It seems to me that, while there are some complex issues involved, this is just one more way in which society is attempting to control women and I, for one, hope it backfires by causing powerful women from around the world to band together and raise their voices in protest.

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