We Have Always Been Here
Ratings11
Average rating3.5
15
Ratings11
Average rating3.5
CANADA READS 2020 WINNER NATIONAL BESTSELLER 2020 LAMBDA LITERARY AWARD WINNER How do you find yourself when the world tells you that you don't exist? Samra Habib has spent most of her life searching for the safety to be herself. As an Ahmadi Muslim growing up in Pakistan, she faced regular threats from Islamic extremists who believed the small, dynamic sect to be blasphemous. From her parents, she internalized the lesson that revealing her identity could put her in grave danger. When her family came to Canada as refugees, Samra encountered a whole new host of challenges: bullies, racism, the threat of poverty, and an arranged marriage. Backed into a corner, her need for a safe space--in which to grow and nurture her creative, feminist spirit--became dire. The men in her life wanted to police her, the women in her life had only shown her the example of pious obedience, and her body was a problem to be solved. So begins an exploration of faith, art, love, and queer sexuality, a journey that takes her to the far reaches of the globe to uncover a truth that was within her all along. A triumphant memoir of forgiveness and family, both chosen and not, We Have Always Been Here is a rallying cry for anyone who has ever felt out of place and a testament to the power of fearlessly inhabiting one's truest self.
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In the interests of total transparency, I did skim some parts but I found it a great read. The description of being emboldened in relationship with others, and visiting the queer mosque were particularly beautiful.
Samra Habib, the creator of queermuslimproject.tumblr.com, shares her life story. From escaping the war in Pakistan, to experiencing Islamophobia and the toils of immigration in Canada, to escaping her arranged marriage and to strengthening and reconciling her queerness with her identity as a Muslim. As with her photography project, her goal with the book is to encourage and help a younger generation that's facing similar struggles.
With incredible resolve, Samra Habib ably navigates leaving her troubled Pakistan, complies with an arranged marriage, immigrates to Canada, and discovers her own queer identity. Despite all that she has endured from such a young age, she still has space in her heart for understanding and grace. And even the capacity to build something from her own experiences.
It is an important book that offers representation for those struggling to define their own identity within the confines of their faith and culture. Samra offers hope that there is a way to balance the two, that becoming her own queer self doesn't mean she still can't embrace and celebrate her faith. To that end there is a truly beautiful moment when she finds sanctuary at Toronto's Unity Mosque where she is free to be queer and Muslim.
For me though, it felt like there were no stakes in this and I find myself struggling to recall the narrative even a few weeks later but I'm still glad this book exists out in the world.
