Last
weekend, I had the opportunity to attend the DC Interfaith Leadership Summit at
the Latter-day Saints Chapel in Chevy Chase, Maryland. At the summit, I met
people from all around the DC metro area that work and participate in
interfaith initiatives centered on topics such as religious privilege, public
engagement, and the intersection of art and religion. Throughout the course of
the daylong conference, I participated in three sessions led by people who work
in these fields within their respective communities.
The first session I participated in dealt with religious
privilege. I was excited to see how this would be presented, as I knew I was
not religiously privileged, being that I was a Shi'a Nizari Ismaili Muslim. Even
within the Muslim community, I wouldn’t be qualified as having religious
privilege. I began to think of how that impacts my day to day interactions with
the different communities I am a part of: my religious community back home in
Atlanta, my social community of friends at Georgetown, and my academic
community of professors and faculty with whom I work and discuss my
professional aspirations.
The presenter of this lecture began by asking us to fill out
a chart, in which religion was only one of the aspects of privilege that a
person could have. This box was complemented with other indicators, like race,
socioeconomic status, ethnic background, natural citizenship status, ability,
primary language spoken, education, etc. These were all aspects of my identity that I didn’t realize gave me
privilege, and I found that although I wasn’t privileged as a Shi'a Muslim among
most of the Christians I find at Georgetown, I was indeed privileged by and
large in other respects.
Following this exercise, our presenter asked us to write
down the characteristics of our religious community in accordance with the
previous qualifications. When I reassessed my level of privilege within this
community, I was completely surprised. Ironically enough, I didn’t have the
majority of the privilege indicators within my own religious community, despite the fact that we shared similar
religious backgrounds. This amazed me, and it prompted me to think about how I
look at privilege alongside religious identity. Even though I am the minority
of several sects of Islam, could it be that I am still privileged in the rest
of my identity as an able-bodied, college-educated, middle class, heterosexual
person?
That was the moment I realized, I truly am privileged to be
a Muslim, given the rest of my identities. Looking back on the conference and
reflecting on this experience, I think the new question becomes: how can I use this
privilege to serve others in my community, however I define that to be?
