| Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four | Part five |
The project seemed straightforward. I wanted to show up at the Eid al-Fitr prayer to take pictures of the people attending the prayer. I was calling the project Fashionable Muslim Women. There were two immediate steps I needed to take. First, I needed to find and talk to the organizers. After that, I needed to prepare a consent form for the participants to sign.
After Google research, and talking to people, I figured that preparing the consent form wasn’t going to be too complicated. I just needed to include a few clear paragraphs explaining what I was doing. Then, I needed to get the people who were interested in having their pictures taken to sign the form.
I was so excited for the project. Today, I think about those days and I remember my thoughts: “Failure is not an option,” or “If there is a will, there is a way.”
I called Reem to see if she knew the people who organized the Eid prayer. “I think you need to talk to Mr. Ibrahim,” she said. “I know he is an active guy. He goes to the same mosque I go to in Madison. His daughter studies at the university. I can talk to his daughter and get his number for you. Or, you can come over to the mosque this Friday,” she suggested kindly.
“Do you pray separately?” I asked. “Yes,” she said. “I’m not sure if I can go to the men’s section to talk to him. Can I call him? Do you have his number?” I asked. “I don’t have his number. But I think I can get it for you.”
Reem called me the next day and gave me Mr. Ibrahim’s number. I called him half an hour later.
“I am so tired of the media portraying Muslim women as oppressed and backward. The stories they write are incomprehensible and so far from the truth. I want to show the beauty and pride of the Muslim community in Madison. I want to show a different picture of women,” I said. He agreed to let me take the pictures on Eid.
My imagination wasn’t going beyond taking pictures at that point. I didn’t even know what to do with the pictures.
Up until that moment, I have always been sent to a field to file stories. My job as a reporter, producer, or journalist was to show up in a certain place where an activity was taking place. I needed to talk with people, ideally from different points of view, and come back to the newsroom to write the story. Or, dictate the story to a typist at the newsroom. I certainly worked with the photo department, or editors, or other producers. But, at the end of the day, my job was to write or produce the story.
I treated the photography project the same way as I treated my journalism job: to show up in the field and file the story. Only this time, the story was a picture story and not a written one. I couldn’t see what was waiting beyond that point.
To capture as many photos as I could, I needed people to help me. I talked with my best friend and she agreed to help. I found two more people who would volunteer to help out. Mohammad, my close friend at the J-school, let us use office space in his university building for a few gatherings. There were a total of eight people for the big day.
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