[LINK] "The Appearance of Devotion: Babies, Booze, and the LCBO"

[rfmcdonald]

Writing at Torontoist, this weekend Natalie Zina Walschots wrote a wonderful reaction in relation to the Toronto Sun's latest attempt to kickstart anti-Muslim sentiment in Ontario. You might remember that recently, the Sun devoted its front page to condemning a Muslim street preacher at Yonge and Dundas who favoured passing laws making the niqab mandatory for women on the grounds that unclad women invite sexual assault, not noticing that they have a columnist who compared women in unspecified dress to deer in an area with an active hunt. Most recently, the Sun--in Walschots' words--"clothed a 14-year-old boy in the garments of a devout Islamic woman, including a hijab, which covers the hair, and a niqab, a veil over the face that leaves the eyes exposed," this religious wear then allowing the teenager to "walk into three separate LCBOs and purchase a bottle of sambuca with cash," without anyone asking for identification.

(Am I alone in being amused at the idea of the spectre of burka-clad underage drinkers buying booze?)

The only thing the article actually revealed was a deeply racist discomfort with a particular culture and set of religious practices, and an almost pitiful attempt to generate web traffic. This is an example of invented news, revealing a “crisis” that does not exist in an attempt to further a specific agenda: in this case, distrust of members of a specific group. There has not been a rash of young boys trying to buy alcohol from the LCBO dressed as Muslim women. There was no specific incident the Sun was following up on. Instead of using that front page to cover something important, something with weight and meaning and teeth and heart, they put a little boy in a costume they found frightening and instructed him to buy booze, hoping to make a few more people in the world more scared of those clothes and what they represent—what the Sun thinks they represent—as well.

[. . .]

I was 14 the first time I bought a bottle of alcohol, too—my parents’ earnest desire to mark my 19th birthday notwithstanding—in the small town in Southern Ontario that recently earned the title of the safest municipality in Canada for the third year in a row. My face was not obscured, I carried no fake identification, and I was not prompted by anyone else, not even a goading friend. I took some of the cash I had earned babysitting, walked in, and walked out with a bottle of malt liquor that I hid in my closet and drank lukewarm. I hated it. I rarely bought alcohol after that, preferring to simply pour myself a surreptitious glass of whatever bottle of wine might be lingering in the fridge after my parents had company. I had no idea what I should buy and my random guesses tended to be disgusting. Every now and again, though, I would stroll in and walk out with a bottle.

[. . .]

In many ways, the boy the Sun sent out was dressed exactly as I was in those days. We were both cast as mature members of our community, not children or stereotypical rowdy teenagers. We were quiet and demure, and displayed cultural signifiers of religious devotion. We seemed the very opposite of suspicious for these reasons, and so both of our costumes worked. The boy’s success says far less about the usefulness of the niqab as a disguise and more about the general belief that religiously devout, quiet women are probably not getting into any trouble.

While most LCBO employees are positively militant when it comes to carding customers who display even the remotest chance of being underage, the Sun happened to find a disguise that worked. Saying that the effectiveness of such a disguise means that the niqab is dangerous is about as ridiculous as saying that children being allowed to wear any clothes typically worn by adults, or by devout members of any religion, is dangerous. It is declaring any outward sign of devotion, be it a crucifix or a kippah or a hijab, suspect, because it carries with it the implication the wearer is pure of spirit and intention—an implication that can be exploited by thirsty teenagers (or Sun editors on a mission) for other ends.

If anything, it reveals that a greater measure of openness, education, and cultural awareness is needed, perhaps for employees of the LCBO and more definitely for members of Sun Media. We’ve become so uncomfortable asking questions about cultural and religious practices we don’t understand that we simply decry their existence as dangerous and scary, or pretend they don’t exist. A curious and polite question from a cashier about an appropriate, respectful way to handle the situation would have completely defused things. Better training on the best way to handle potentially identity-obscuring modest clothing is certainly called for. Framing a religious or cultural practice as dangerous out of fear and bigotry is not only wrong, it is also terrible journalism.