begin quote from:
Being gay and Muslim
What it's like to be gay and Muslim

Photos:
"I
was a pretty strong atheist," said Joey in Los Angeles. "And then I
came across a copy of Michael Muhammad Knight's novel 'The Taqwacores'
about a fictional Muslim punk movement that kind of became true after
being published. I purchased it, read it in just a couple of days and it
opened my eyes a lot more to the religion. ... In a way, I was very
orthodox in my thoughts when putting the LGBT community and Islam
together. Because on first sight, it looks dark -- when you look in the
Quran and the Hadiths, it clearly can't be OK. But then you can read
other sources, other verses of the Quran, other Hadiths, and it gets
clear that it is all a question of how you decide to interpret it."
Hide Caption
7 of 12

Photos:
"Islam
has never been a part of my life that I felt limited by. It has always
been a source of strength," said Sara in New York. "I feel that I come
out as Muslim rather than coming out as queer. Many people have a very
strong preconception of what a Muslim woman looks like and how she
behaves. And though, when I actually share this with people as something
that is really important to me, they are often very confused."
Hide Caption
8 of 12

Photos:
A donation jar holds money for an LGBTQIA Muslim support group in Los Angeles.
Hide Caption
9 of 12

Photos:
A
couple of women embrace in London. They did not want their names
published. One of them told Darjes that "the details of how we practice
(Islam) is not what God is concerned about -- for instance, what you
wear, how you hold your hands and which gender you stand beside. It is
about how pure our heart is in how we treat others, and how we live our
life in this world. Simple things: living a life of integrity and
authenticity, doing good by others and serving others. That is my
Islam."
Hide Caption
10 of 12

Photos:
"Being
queer and Muslim means to me that I can be who God intended me to be,"
Saadiya said. "And for me, that is an educated woman, compassionate,
caring and loving other people. I used to think that it was a negative
thing, but the more I learned about myself and the more I learned about
queer community, I learned that we are just like everybody else. We have
the same needs that other people have. We have the same right as
everybody else."
Hide Caption
11 of 12

Photos:
"When
I converted to Islam a couple of years ago, (being gay) wasn't an issue
for me. I had just realized that I wanted to be a Muslim," said Jason
in Los Angeles. "And being a Muslim at that moment, as a very early
young Muslim, it was all about my connection with God, and getting close
to God. A month later, I realized that I needed to look to what the
Quran and everybody says about being gay. ... And everything was
extremely negative, very, very negative. And it was very disturbing to
me."
Hide Caption
12 of 12

Photos:
El-Farouk
-- at left with his husband, Troy, in Toronto -- said many gay people
struggle with religion because they're often being told there is
something wrong with them. "I started with the notion that it was sinful
(to be gay) and that those who practiced it were problematic at best,"
he told photographer Lia Darjes. "But that didn't quite sort of seem
right in the larger construct of the Quran and the Prophet that I
believed to be true. ... In verse 49.13, Allah says, 'I created you to
different nations and tribes and you may know and learn from each
other.' I just see queer folk as one of those nations or tribes."
Hide Caption
1 of 12

Photos:
"I
am from a country where it is punishable by death to be gay," Samira
said. "In 1979, when the Islamic Revolution began, my family immigrated
to Canada, where I grew up pretty secular. Maybe that was why I never
had that moment of a coming out with my parents, I think they always
knew that I am a lesbian."
Hide Caption
2 of 12

Photos:
Photos
of family and friends decorate a wall in Paris. "In 2012, after I did
not find one single imam in France who was willing to bury a transsexual
Muslim, I founded a mosque that is open to all in Paris," said
Ludovic-Mohamed Zahed. "The reactions were quite vehement. Being Muslim,
Arabic and gay and thus a member of several minority groups opened my
eyes: Minorities are being discriminated against particularly in times
of economic crisis. We have to know more about Islam, and we have to
understand who we actually are in order to fight homophobia."
Hide Caption
3 of 12

Photos:
"As
an inclusive imam who is also gay, I understand the turmoil of
homosexual Muslims," said Daayiee Abdullah, shown here in Washington.
"When I converted to Islam 34 years ago, I wasn't speaking Arabic yet. I
was studying at Beijing University, and the first Quran I read was in
Mandarin. That was a blessing for me. To get to know Islam in the Near
East and the West, living there to continue forming my understanding
that Islam is not monolithic, was necessary. It is not only a religion
or belief. It is also a formulation that depends upon the culture it
enters. Allah demonstrates there is a great diversity already in
creation. The question is: Do we respect that?"
Hide Caption
4 of 12

Photos:
"There
is just one aspect of the whole Quran about people who are gay, but
there are multiple accounts in the Quran saying don't lie, don't cheat,
don't backfight, don't hurt other people," said Shahbaz in Los Angeles.
"And a lot of people don't focus on those things that are repeated
multiple times. They only see this one point. I think this is really
hypocritical."
Hide Caption
5 of 12

Photos:
Chairs are stacked in a simple room in Toronto that becomes a "unity mosque" every Friday.
Hide Caption
6 of 12

Photos:
"I
was a pretty strong atheist," said Joey in Los Angeles. "And then I
came across a copy of Michael Muhammad Knight's novel 'The Taqwacores'
about a fictional Muslim punk movement that kind of became true after
being published. I purchased it, read it in just a couple of days and it
opened my eyes a lot more to the religion. ... In a way, I was very
orthodox in my thoughts when putting the LGBT community and Islam
together. Because on first sight, it looks dark -- when you look in the
Quran and the Hadiths, it clearly can't be OK. But then you can read
other sources, other verses of the Quran, other Hadiths, and it gets
clear that it is all a question of how you decide to interpret it."
Hide Caption
7 of 12

Photos:
"Islam
has never been a part of my life that I felt limited by. It has always
been a source of strength," said Sara in New York. "I feel that I come
out as Muslim rather than coming out as queer. Many people have a very
strong preconception of what a Muslim woman looks like and how she
behaves. And though, when I actually share this with people as something
that is really important to me, they are often very confused."
Hide Caption
8 of 12

Photos:
A donation jar holds money for an LGBTQIA Muslim support group in Los Angeles.
Hide Caption
9 of 12

Photos:
A
couple of women embrace in London. They did not want their names
published. One of them told Darjes that "the details of how we practice
(Islam) is not what God is concerned about -- for instance, what you
wear, how you hold your hands and which gender you stand beside. It is
about how pure our heart is in how we treat others, and how we live our
life in this world. Simple things: living a life of integrity and
authenticity, doing good by others and serving others. That is my
Islam."
Hide Caption
10 of 12

Photos:
"Being
queer and Muslim means to me that I can be who God intended me to be,"
Saadiya said. "And for me, that is an educated woman, compassionate,
caring and loving other people. I used to think that it was a negative
thing, but the more I learned about myself and the more I learned about
queer community, I learned that we are just like everybody else. We have
the same needs that other people have. We have the same right as
everybody else."
Hide Caption
11 of 12

Photos:
"When
I converted to Islam a couple of years ago, (being gay) wasn't an issue
for me. I had just realized that I wanted to be a Muslim," said Jason
in Los Angeles. "And being a Muslim at that moment, as a very early
young Muslim, it was all about my connection with God, and getting close
to God. A month later, I realized that I needed to look to what the
Quran and everybody says about being gay. ... And everything was
extremely negative, very, very negative. And it was very disturbing to
me."
Hide Caption
12 of 12

Photos:
El-Farouk
-- at left with his husband, Troy, in Toronto -- said many gay people
struggle with religion because they're often being told there is
something wrong with them. "I started with the notion that it was sinful
(to be gay) and that those who practiced it were problematic at best,"
he told photographer Lia Darjes. "But that didn't quite sort of seem
right in the larger construct of the Quran and the Prophet that I
believed to be true. ... In verse 49.13, Allah says, 'I created you to
different nations and tribes and you may know and learn from each
other.' I just see queer folk as one of those nations or tribes."
Hide Caption
1 of 12

Photos:
"I
am from a country where it is punishable by death to be gay," Samira
said. "In 1979, when the Islamic Revolution began, my family immigrated
to Canada, where I grew up pretty secular. Maybe that was why I never
had that moment of a coming out with my parents, I think they always
knew that I am a lesbian."
Hide Caption
2 of 12

Photos:
Photos
of family and friends decorate a wall in Paris. "In 2012, after I did
not find one single imam in France who was willing to bury a transsexual
Muslim, I founded a mosque that is open to all in Paris," said
Ludovic-Mohamed Zahed. "The reactions were quite vehement. Being Muslim,
Arabic and gay and thus a member of several minority groups opened my
eyes: Minorities are being discriminated against particularly in times
of economic crisis. We have to know more about Islam, and we have to
understand who we actually are in order to fight homophobia."
Hide Caption
3 of 12

Photos:
"As
an inclusive imam who is also gay, I understand the turmoil of
homosexual Muslims," said Daayiee Abdullah, shown here in Washington.
"When I converted to Islam 34 years ago, I wasn't speaking Arabic yet. I
was studying at Beijing University, and the first Quran I read was in
Mandarin. That was a blessing for me. To get to know Islam in the Near
East and the West, living there to continue forming my understanding
that Islam is not monolithic, was necessary. It is not only a religion
or belief. It is also a formulation that depends upon the culture it
enters. Allah demonstrates there is a great diversity already in
creation. The question is: Do we respect that?"
Hide Caption
4 of 12

Photos:
"There
is just one aspect of the whole Quran about people who are gay, but
there are multiple accounts in the Quran saying don't lie, don't cheat,
don't backfight, don't hurt other people," said Shahbaz in Los Angeles.
"And a lot of people don't focus on those things that are repeated
multiple times. They only see this one point. I think this is really
hypocritical."
Hide Caption
5 of 12

Photos:
Chairs are stacked in a simple room in Toronto that becomes a "unity mosque" every Friday.
Hide Caption
6 of 12












Story highlights
- Lia Darjes photographed people in various countries who are both gay and Muslim
- Among those she interviewed were openly gay imams in Europe and the United States
(CNN)Lia Darjes
spent some time taking photos in the blissfully lilac bedroom of
El-Farouk and his husband, Troy, in Toronto. The men, both Muslim, are
naturally lit in a peaceful aura of domesticity, sunken into a
comfortable bed with their black cat.
But as with many gay Muslims she interviewed and photographed, unsettling inner dialogues are taking place beneath the surface.
"I
could tell you where I am now and it would sound rather a happy place,"
El-Farouk told Darjes. "But the journey to that place has not been an
easy one."
He told the
photographer that many people like him have suffered "spiritual
violence, where you are being told that there is something profoundly
and deeply wrong with you.
"As a
result, a lot of queer people end up leaving religion or stepping out of
religion or having a very unhealthy relationship with religion."
Over time, El-Farouk has managed to reconcile his spirituality with his sexuality.
"I
started with the notion that it was sinful (to be gay) and that those
who practiced it were problematic at best," he said. "But that didn't
quite sort of seem right in the larger construct of the Quran and the
Prophet that I believed to be true. ... In verse 49.13, Allah says, 'I
created you to different nations and tribes and you may know and learn
from each other.' I just see queer folk as one of those nations or
tribes."
Darjes wanted to learn
more about gay Muslims and their personal struggles. So she visited
several cities in Europe and North America, hoping to gain people's
confidence for her photo project "Being Queer. Feeling Muslim." It
wasn't easy.
"You are asking about
their religion and their sexuality, the most two private things for most
people. You really have to convince them," she said. "I am not gay and I
am not Muslim, and I come as an outsider."
Social media
Follow @CNNPhotos on Twitter to join the conversation about photography.
Follow @CNNPhotos on Twitter to join the conversation about photography.
In Paris, Darjes spent time with Ludovic-Mohamed Zahed, an openly gay imam who opened the city's first gay-friendly mosque.
"The
reactions were quite vehement," he told her. "Being Muslim, Arabic and
gay and thus a member of several minority groups opened my eyes:
Minorities are being discriminated against, particularly in times of
economic crisis. We have to know more about Islam, and we have to
understand who we actually are in order to fight homophobia."
Darjes attended prayer sessions at the mosque, which is perched in a Muslim neighborhood.
"I
just sat there in a corner during the sessions when I met this woman
who was, for the first time since coming out, able to attend prayer
without feeling guilty," Darjes said. The woman was also "feeling
relieved to be in a community again."
The United States proved to be Darjes' first major challenge, the photographer said.
"There were no events, and people were being extremely private," she said.
That
was until she met openly gay imam Daayiee Abdullah, a former Southern
Baptist turned Muslim who studied the Quran in Beijing and opened a gay
mosque in Washington.
"As an
inclusive imam who is also gay," Abdullah told Darjes, "I understand the
turmoil of homosexual Muslims. When I converted to Islam 34 years ago, I
wasn't speaking Arabic yet. I was studying at Beijing University, and
the first Quran I read was in Mandarin. That was a blessing for me. To
get to know Islam in the Near East and the West, living there to
continue forming my understanding that Islam is not monolithic, was
necessary.
"It is not only a
religion or belief; it is also a formulation that depends upon the
culture it enters. Allah demonstrates there is a great diversity already
in creation. The question is: Do we respect that?"
Interpretations
abound in the constant debate on whether it is acceptable to be gay in
the Islamic faith. Some Muslim-majority nations are more tolerant toward
the issue and accepting of the LGBT community. But there are also
countries where homosexuality may be a capital crime.
"I
am from a country where it is punishable by death to be gay," said
Samira, one of Darjes' subjects who was born in Iran. "In 1979, when the
Islamic Revolution began, my family immigrated to Canada, where I grew
up pretty secular."
Darjes said the
LGBT communities she worked with were "very positive" and more defiant
than ever. Her resulting photographs, naturally lit, often carry
discreet hues of blue, a spiritual color that also creates an atmosphere
of serenity in the individuals portrayed.
"I
rarely got the feeling I was going to work with traumatized people,"
she said. "You had a feeling they had arrived at something, that they
had found something good in these associations and meetings."


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