Hijab Butch Blues is more than a must-read. It's also a study guide on Islam, a handbook for abolitionists, and a queer manifesto. It inspires critical thinking, upholds activist self-care, and permits the defining of one's own queerness. Good vs. bad Muslim, straight vs. gay: That's all a trap. There are third options, too.
Generous, probing and candid ... readers will feel a growing appreciation for Lamya’s intelligence, eloquence and courage. Along the way, we learn vivid details about her life and outlook ... she is observant, passionate and anything but voiceless.
The memoir is masterfully constructed and mapped out, split between three parts with each one spanning time and space instead of going in chronological order ... Lamya shares poignant and incisive reflections on queerness and gender and how we perform them both, white supremacy in the U.S. and abroad, friendship, familial love, and the importance of carving out a path for yourself that works for you ... There is not a single hard transition in any of the essays here, and their ability to move so easily through the stories of the Quran and their own life emphasizes the weight of the importance of Islam in their life.
The book probes internal conflicts around what coming out is meant to accomplish and to whom. The author persistently challenges a world that classifies identities in rigid absolutes. The book’s relevant and timely discussions of race, sexual orientation, and religion offer an empathetic approach to understanding them.
As the author examines her evolving relationship to her religion, she also vibrantly explores what it means to live with an open-minded, open-hearted activist seeking to change the world for the better. A hopeful and uplifting memoir.
The narrative is profoundly emotional, and Lamya’s determination to fight for a better world hits home ... This will inspire both compassion and reflection.
