Muslim parents seek a path forward after protests over LGBTQ rights in school

When Iftekhar Ahmed's child came out as transgender four years ago, the situation was difficult for him to comprehend. Raised in Pakistan in a Muslim household, Ahmed had little experience with the concept.

But after about a year of conversations with his son, Mani, and of lot of learning about his identity, Ahmed was able to understand.

"He's my child," said Ahmed, who lives in Montreal. "How you express yourself, how you dress, how you look, those are important. But it's not everything."

So when Ahmed saw the protests last month across Canada over sex ed and LGBTQ rights, he worried for the safety of children like Mani. He says the rhetoric of parental rights doesn't make sense, as it's the children who are vulnerable.

"This is personal for me," he said. "I always think of my child and how he will face these kinds of situations. And I do have friends who have queer children who are vulnerable."

Little space for dialogue

Leading up to the "1 Million March 4 Children" protest in Montreal, Siddiqa Sadiq also had trouble understanding why so many fellow members of her Muslim community were planning to attend.

"What exactly is the issue here?" Sadiq asked. She says she was met with frustration instead of answers.

At the Montreal demonstration, protesters held up signs saying "Parents know best" and "Leave our kids alone." CBC spoke with protesters who said they didn't want gender identity discussed in school.

Sadiq, a mother herself, wondered why her community was focusing on this issue, and why they felt so strongly that many had pulled their kids out of school to attend.

"Schools are supposed to teach us how to communicate better," she said. "We go to schools to learn how to debate, how to converse."

But instead of a conversation, she saw people yelling at each other in the street. She feels the situation was poorly handled by both the protesters and counter protesters.

"Nobody is happy in this situation," said Sadiq.

Struggling to find community

Mubeenah Mughal attended the Montreal counter protest and agreed there was no place for any productive discussion.

"I just kind of degenerated to being like, 'Well, you're trash," Mughal said.

Mubeenah Mughal says it hurts to see her religion used against her. (Cassandra Leslie/Ciel Photo)

That anger and frustration comes from a life of wanting to engage in her religion while having her faith questioned because of her queerness.

"I try so hard to be part of this community that kind of hates me," Mughal said.

For Mughal, a practising Muslim and a mother, thinking about how Islam can be used to push homophobia and transphobia brings her to tears.

"[Islam] is something so beautiful that people can make so ugly," Mughal said. "This religion was meant to be universal."

'This is personal'

Ahmed says racialized children who may be queer face more danger and a higher risk of discrimination.

This is why he works to hold intergenerational conversations within the community. He does so through the Rang Collective, a Montreal-based group that encourages dialogue and awareness on social issues affecting South Asian communities.

"One of our objectives is to provide this different narrative, especially on young queer people, and how they are part of the community," Ahmed said.

"There is nothing in the religious or the cultural traditions that goes against them."

Through those conversations, Ahmed hopes relationships between Muslim and queer communities — and between the faithful no matter their gender identity — can be normalized.