Prejudice and progress: Women with hijabs talk about what it's like to wear the Muslim headscarf
Wrapped tightly around her head, with no softly draping fabric to distract her during meetings at her tech startup, Dilara Sayeed's hijab is American in more ways than one.
Her hijab, or Muslim headscarf, has a sleek, professional profile that is mostly seen in the U.S.
And the spirit with which Sayeed, a former Democratic candidate for the Illinois House of Representatives, wears her hijab is American as well. When Sayeed's Indian-born father questioned her decision to cover her hair at age 19, saying, "You're in America now; you don't have to do this," Sayeed's comeback was the stuff of a high school civics class:
"It's because I'm American that I can choose to cover, Daddy."
At a time of fraught debate about immigration and national identity, the hijab has become a flashpoint and a symbol of solidarity, with New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern donning a hijab after the Christchurch mosque shootings, and Fox News host Jeanine Pirro drawing criticism for asking whether U.S. Rep. Ilhan Omar's hijab reflects beliefs "antithetical to the U.S. Constitution."
Controversy flared locally last year when WGN-TV news anchor Robin Baumgarten told Chicago fashion blogger Hoda Katebi, who wears a hijab, that she didn't sound like an American when she criticized U.S. policy. Baumgarten later apologized.
In response to such high-profile incidents, the Tribune interviewed six Chicago-area women about why they wear the hijab, what it means to them, and what
