In 2020, I wrote an article titled “On Being Othered In Muslim & Non-Muslim Spaces” where I discussed the anti-black racism, colorism, prejudice, and Islamophobia black Muslim women face. Five years later, I wish I could say these issues have faded, but, sadly, they persist. Some might say this topic has been discussed endlessly, but how can one grow tired of a story that keeps repeating itself? How can you ignore an experience that continues to shape your everyday life?
Islamophobia is an irrational fear, hostility, or hatred directed at Islam and Muslims. It can manifest in hate crimes, stereotypes, negative media portrayals, employment discrimination, and policies designed to exclude or monitor Muslim populations. This hostility is often fueled by misinformation, political rhetoric, and a fundamental lack of what Islam teaches.
On the other hand, anti-black racism is deeply rooted in the legacies of slavery, colonialism, and segregation. It shows up racial profiling, economic disparities, police brutality, cultural erasure, and exclusion from professional and social opportunities.
For black Muslim women, these two forces collide in ways that create a distinct and often overlooked form of discrimination. In most environments, we are either being racially discriminated against or religiously profiled, and many times, both experiences overlap, intensifying our challenges.
The Crossroad
In the West, Islamophobia is heavily racialized, centering predominantly on Arab and South Asian Muslims. When stories of Islamophobic violence, discrimination, or prejudice make headlines, the faces and names that dominate the conversation typically belong to these communities. For decades, the media and political discourse has portrayed Islam as something foreign, as something that belongs to the Middle East or South Asia. This narrow framing erases the presence of black Muslims, despite the fact we make up a significant portion of the global Muslim population.
Black Muslims have played an integral role in shaping Islamic history and culture, yet our struggles with Islamophobia are frequently dismissed or ignored. This erasure is so common that when black Muslims face discrimination, it’s rarely recognized as part of the broader Islamophobic landscape. Instead, these experiences are often categorized solely as anti-black racism, as if our religious identity has no bearing on the biases we encounter.
This creates what can be described as double invisibility, which leaves black Muslims vulnerable to both anti-black racism and Islamophobia while receiving little to no advocacy or support. Hate crimes, workplace discrimination, police surveillance, and racial profiling affect black Muslims just as they do other Muslim communities. However, because mainstream narratives rarely associate blackness with Islam, these stories remain in the shadows, leaving black Muslims to navigate these injustices alone.
Unique Struggles
Imagine going to work, knowing you have the experience, knowledge, and qualifications for a leadership role, yet continually being overlooked. When promotions arise, they always go to someone else, someone who never looks like you. Or learning that you have more years of experience, yet your salary is significantly lower than that of your lateral colleagues.
Then, after enduring these challenges, you arrive at your local masjid, only to be met with skepticism about your faith. You’re questioned about how authentic your Islamic knowledge is, how much of the Qur’an you’ve memorized, or whether you are a “real” Muslim because your ancestry oftentimes isn’t seen as valid, or does not trace back to a Muslim-majority country.
These are not hypothetical scenarios. They are realities many black Muslim women have experienced for decades and continue to face today.
In addition to racial and religious discrimination, black Muslim women also face colorism and identity policing within both Muslim and non-Muslim spaces. Western beauty standards, which glorify fair skin, straight hair, and uncovered femininity, dominate mainstream media and pop culture. These ideals infiltrate Muslim spaces as well, where black Muslim women often are placed at the bottom of the hierarchy. For example:
- We’re often the last to be invited to speak at Islamic lectures.
- We’re frequently the last to be acknowledged for our religious or secular scholarship.
- We’re usually the last to be represented in Muslim media.
Within the broader Muslim community, our voices are almost always excluded from mainstream platforms; within non-Muslim spaces, we’re either tokenized or ignored. It’s an exhausting cycle of invisibility and hypervisibility, constantly proving we belong while fighting against the forces that try to erase us.
Black Muslim Women Own Their Narratives
Despite these challenges, black Muslim women have never allowed these barriers to define or limit us. Instead, we’ve built our own platforms, movements, and communities, using our voices to reclaim space and tell our own stories.
For over a decade, the strength and resilience of black Muslim women have been magnified through social media platforms like X (formerly Twitter), Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok. Through these digital spaces, we’ve shared our experiences, built communities, and documented our histories; stories that mainstream Muslim and non-Muslim platforms often ignore.
Take for example Dr. Su’ad Abdul Khabeer, the creator of “Sapelo Square,” an award-winning media and education collective that produces and archives the black Muslim experience in the U.S. Her work has been instrumental in preserving the voices and histories of black Muslims, ensuring our narratives are not erased.
Or Hakeemah, the visionary behind “Double Pin It.” While her platform is centered on modest fashion, she’s spoken openly about facing both Islamophobia and anti-black racism in Muslim spaces. Her work not only highlights the intersectionality of these struggles but also serves as an example of a black American Muslim woman staying true to her faith and identity despite societal pressures.
Black Muslim women have always been at the forefront of community-building, advocacy, and storytelling. We refuse to be invisible, and we continue to create spaces where we are seen, heard, and valued.
Moving Forward
One thing that remains true about black women is that we are always on the front lines of solidarity and support for others. But how often are those sentiments truly reciprocated?
It’s time for other ethnic communities within Islam to amplify black Muslim women’s voices, not just in moments of crisis but as an ongoing commitment to inclusion and justice. Here are a few ways this can be done:
- Support black Muslim-led organizations and initiatives.
- Invite black Muslim women onto your platforms and into your spaces, not as an afterthought but as valued contributors.
- Educate yourself on the history of black Muslims, particularly in the U.S.
- Speak out against racism and prejudice within your own circles, families, and ethnic communities.
True solidarity isn’t just about sharing hashtags, it’s about creating inclusive spaces where all Muslims, regardless of race, feel a sense of belonging.
When we push past our discomfort and engage in honest conversations, we often realize that our struggles, though unique, are deeply connected. Instead of allowing our differences to divide us, we can use them as opportunities for deeper understanding and community-building. Because at the end of the day, justice is only justice when it includes all of us.
