Local queer iftar offers opportunity for inclusive community

By Aisha Misbah

Iftar, when Muslims break their fast at sundown during the month of Ramadan, is a beloved and sacred tradition practiced by millions of families and communities for centuries. There’s truly no words to describe eating with loved ones after abstaining from food and water for more than 10 hours. However, it can be a challenging time for some queer Muslims who face discrimination on multiple fronts and are often unable to celebrate the holy month with their families.

The U.S. has a diverse population of about 3.45 million Muslims, with about 2,700 mosques to account for them all. But only a handful are openly accepting of queer Muslims, leaving a need for spaces that foster community for that demographic.

On April 8, Noor, a gathering space for BIPOC and LGBTQ Muslims, and Queer the Land (QTL), an organization grounded in the self-determination of queer, trans and Two-Spirit Black, Indigenous, people of color, collaborated and sponsored both organizations’ first queer community iftar. Mar Aziz, a member with Noor and a volunteer with QTL, hosted the iftar gathering at the Young Women Empowered event space in Columbia City.

Aziz began the event with an inspiring speech about queer Muslims’ role in Islam. They described how Ramadan isn’t about pretending to experience someone else’s struggles but about the larger injustices of the world. Ramadan is a time to be intentional with words without cutting another down and to create different relationships with one’s desires and a power outside of oneself. Fasting is about appreciating the pleasures of the world while also returning to and remembering one’s principles and priorities.

Aziz said queer Muslims today still face erasure from Muslims and non-Muslims alike, despite the prevalence of gender and sexual diversity in Muslim societies across history. However, they said, queer Muslims are the future.

They explained how the Quran was first revealed to Prophet Muhammad at a time when social injustices were rampant within his own community. The thought of shouldering that kind of responsibility left him shaking with fear. But it was the encouragement from one person, his wife Khadija, that led to him establishing the foundations of Islam even at a time when straying from societal beliefs was a death sentence.

“But the truth of the matter is that queerness will always be the downfall of what we are told is normal,” Aziz said. “That is what Muhammad and Khadija did: rejected the status quo at the very moment that its overwhelming weight sought to crush them.”

The iftar dinner began when Aziz’s speech ended, and everyone immediately broke their fast. Shortly after, people lined up to pray once the call to prayer was announced. In the majority of Muslim spaces, prayer is segregated, with men in the front and women in the back. However, Aziz explained that in Mecca, a sacred pilgrimage site for Muslims, men and women mix freely in prayer. Queer spaces took that practice for its gender-neutral prayer. Organizers believe reclaiming spaces by inhabiting them with all people is essential.

“An iftar [and gender-neutral prayers] is the thing we really need to do. Some people just think it’s so impossible to recreate or hang back onto something that some of us have either complicated or maybe fond memories of [from] childhood,” Aziz said. “We think we just have to let it go. We think that we’ll never have some of those things that other people have.”

People from all walks of life showed up to the community iftar. Attendees exchanged stories about queerness and Islam as they feasted on plates piled with flavorful foods catered by Salima’s Specialties and Baked from the Hart. Attendees were able to pick from a selection of chicken samosas, sambal chicken and veggie fried rice. Bean pie, a traditional African American Muslim dessert, was soon served to folks looking to soothe their sweet tooth. The iftar was open to all, both queer and transgender Muslims as well as non-Muslims sharing in a sacred time together.

Fatima Elzein, an attendee at the event, said that they were a child the last time they did something religiously. Even at that age, they never felt safe in a religious space unless their mother accompanied them.

Elzein described how they knew people were going to hate them for being gay, and being Muslim wasn’t going to make a difference. After 9/11, people threw rocks at them on their walk home from school and Elzein was cornered by people threatening to kill them because they were Muslim. They said being gay was more validation for people to hurt them.

“This is my first queer and trans Muslim event, and even praying, which I haven’t done in a while, amongst my queer and trans siblings, I tried so hard not to cry,” Elzein said. “But, it just brings me so much joy, and the inner child within me is so happy and proud to be here.”

Elzein emphasized how beautiful it was to pray side by side with Muslims of varying backgrounds. They believe that the imperialist empire could be defeated if everyone put aside their own beliefs and became more open to the multitude of ways of existing, rather than fighting among each other.

QTL strives to hold space for different beliefs and ways of existing, especially within the queer community. Its foundational organizing work is shown through projects like running its community garden and providing mutual aid to community members.

Amari, Black-led initiatives and organizing coordinator for QTL, said the group wanted to help organize something for Arab History Month and build an understanding of different cultures within the community. QTL is heavily involved in community food sovereignty, the idea that people must reclaim their power in the food system by rebuilding the relationships between people and the land, and between food providers and those who eat.

So, when Noor approached QTL with the idea of a community iftar, QTL was ready to help.

“As a non-queer Muslim organization, we couldn’t really put together a space like that without queer Muslims support,” Amari said. “We have Mar [Aziz], of course, but all the responsibility shouldn’t be on them. So, it was really about co-organizing with folks that are part of that work and bringing that awareness.”

Even though they’re not Muslim, Amari empathizes with queer Muslims in the community. Their personal experience as a Black, queer and trans person has allowed them to gain insight in understanding the struggle queer Muslims deal with on a daily basis.

They said that intersectionality makes the discrimination of queer Muslims more profound. Amari believes people with multiple identities can be pressured to pick a struggle, as others may think that queerness, transness, neurodivergence and more are choices that one makes.

Amari hopes QTL continues to collaborate with Noor in the future, as it broadens QTL’s reach in Seattle. This event has kickstarted a new avenue for organizations like Noor to be able to continue making an impact in the queer Muslim community. The inaugural queer iftar brought people together, creating a sense of religious community many queer Muslims hadn’t experienced in a while.

“We know the joy of orienting our day around prayer to an agender Allah that looks neither like a man or woman,” Aziz said in their speech. “We dance in the light of our intergenerational spaces where queer elders and queer youth set intentions and laugh with one another deep into the night.”