Montreal·My Community

Queer meetups are helping Montreal Muslims explore spirituality and gender identity

To address feelings of alienation queer members of dispora communties are creating spaces to explore both queerness and spirituality together.

Informal gatherings are slowly building into something more

Two people pose on a couch.
Bisma Jay, left, and Zahra Haider, right, say it's been incredible to connect with fellow queer South Asians in the city. (Submitted by Zahra Haider)

Lifting up their wrist, Zahra Haider talks about one of their many tattoos. They trace their fingertips across the Urdu scripture inked into their skin, spelling out the word "freedom."

Sitting in Montreal's La Fontaine Park on a spring afternoon, it was one of only a few times the 28-year-old has explained the tattoo's significance to people who can actually read the language since moving here from Toronto a year and a half ago.

It's an experience they didn't expect when attending a gathering for queer people of colour, organized through a community Haider had found on Facebook.

"I mean Montreal is very white, you know," they said. "The desi [South Asian] community here is very small, let alone the queer South Asian community. So yeah, it was definitely really nice to meet other queer South Asians there."

An Urdu script is seen tattooed on a forearm.
The tattoo on Zarah Haider’s wrist says aazaadi, the Urdu word for freedom. (Submitted by Zahra Haider)

Being in a space where the majority are queer people of colour presented an opportunity to find others with similar upbringings. Bisma Jay, 24, said it only felt natural to connect with fellow desi attendees.

"You want to get to know each other and talk about these shared life experiences," said Jay. "Seeing all of these other amazing, beautiful South Asian people who are also queer and trans was just — it was amazing."

The rarity of Queer Pakistani connections

I would have never come across anyone as openly queer and Pakistani as Haider and Jay when I was growing up.

My parents immigrated to Canada long before I was born. And even years after leaving Pakistan, their social life and connection to the diaspora community was mostly within the walls of the mosque.

We moved around a lot, but finally settled in 2005 in Vaughan, Ont., where at the time the country's largest Ahmadi Muslim mosque hosted all sorts of events, prayers and gatherings.

A young child wearing scarves and Furby keychains.
Some of my earliest memories are of playing around with my gender identity and expression — even if my drag was limited to Furby keychains and scarves. But as I grew older, I had to suppress a lot of that to evade discomfort while among other community members at the mosque. (Submitted by Ijaz Rauf)

It attracted a lot of other Pakistani Ahmadi Muslims from across Canada and around the world. Almost every Pakistani person you'd come across in Vaughan would be Ahmadi, even though only a tiny fraction of Pakistanis are part of this religious minority.

My family was very involved within the community — making being openly queer a lot harder. Queerness isn't widely accepted in Islam, especially in my own specific religious community. I felt I had to make myself invisible or even stop attending events, effectively alienating myself. All to not allow my parents or myself to feel shame or be judged by the community.

It's a reality shared by many other queer Muslims.

One way to address this alienation is by creating a space to explore both queerness and spirituality together.

A group in Montreal's Parc-Extension neighbourhood is working to do just that.

Queer spaces for Muslims

Around Ramadan this year, Faiz Abhuani worked with other community members to start hosting gatherings for queer Muslims.

"I can't comfortably be queer at my mosque," said Abhuani. "I still want to be able to pray. I still want to be able to connect spiritually … there's a need for queer spaces for Muslims."

A man smiles for the camera.
Faiz Abhuani is a community organizer and founder of Brique par Brique, an organization that assists people with housing issues in Montreal's Park Ex neighbourhood. (Submitted by Faiz Abhuani)

It started with one simple, informal gathering. Now, it's a monthly congregation for queer Muslims from different backgrounds. But Abhuani says it remains a challenge to hold these meetings out in the open while ensuring everyone feels safe.

"Some people are, like, worried that they're going to get seen through the windows … [they] don't want to be seen walking in or walking out," said Abhuani.

Abhuani says it'll take time for these gatherings to have an open door policy. But it's the start of something that Haider, Jay, Abhuani and I have been waiting for.

"It's very alienating and isolating to know that there aren't people around you, people that you can go to, people who support you," said Haider, adding that it's "essential" to build up space for those who share these intersecting identities.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Shahroze Rauf

Journalist

Shahroze Rauf is a journalist based in Montreal, originally from the GTA. Their passion for journalism is rooted in their need to showcase stories that represent their own community, and other underserved communities. You can contact them at Shahroze.Rauf@cbc.ca for tips and story ideas.