Courtesy The New York Times
In the days after the December terrorist attack in San Bernardino, Calif., when pictures of the hijab-wearing suspect filled television screens and newspapers, Zarifeh Shalabi’s mother and aunts stayed at home.
With their home just a few miles from the scene of the attack that left 14 dead, they worried about an anti-Muslim backlash. When they went shopping, Zarifeh, 17, said, other mothers pulled their children away when they saw the women wearing head scarves.
“We were more afraid that someone was going to hurt us,” Zarifeh said.
But this month, Zarifeh received the ultimate symbol of teenage acceptance: She was crowned prom queen after her non-Muslim friends campaigned for her by wearing hijabs in solidarity.
“We saw it as a chance to do something good, to represent something good,” said a friend, Sarahi Sanchez, who like Zarifeh is one of a few dozen peer mentors at Summit High School. “This was a way to prove we don’t have problems with bullying or racism.”
Zarifeh said her win “proved that not all Muslims are something to worry about.”
The daughter of observant Muslims, Zarifeh has always been expected to stay close to home and to limit her socializing with boys. All through high school, she turned down invitations to parties and sleepovers and had never been allowed to attend a school dance.
When the high school senior found out that she had been nominated for prom queen, she was more worried about getting permission to attend than wondering about winning.
But her friends were determined to get her the crown.
They each wore a hijab to show their support for Zarifeh, who has covered her hair throughout her high school years. On the morning of the school vote, they huddled together to pass out dozens of colorful scarves. A few held balloons printed with “Don’t be a baddie, vote for the hijabi.” Among the more than 2,000 students at the school, just four girls typically wear the head covering.
Weeks before the dance, she pressed her mother by showing her a flier with school rules: no dirty dancing, no strapless dresses, and transportation by bus. Her mother, still not convinced, spoke with aunts, uncles and friends from the local mosque before finally giving in.
“I had no idea how much she is really respected and loved at the school,” her mother said.
On the night of the prom, while Zarifeh stood on stage, her younger sister checked Snapchat to see the latest updates. A few minutes later, she saw the news: Her sister was Summit High’s prom queen.
Her friend Sarahi said, “I feel like we have something to teach the rest of the country, it makes me really proud.”
While her friends went to a nearby diner, Zarifeh knew her mother was expecting her home. The next morning, she celebrated with friends at the Ar-Rahman mosque, where she teaches children each week.
“People there were proud, too — it was something exciting, something different,” she said. “I’m not what someone thinks of when they think of prom queen.”