Recently, I was procrastinating in a library study room around 10pm (as one does) by scrolling aimlessly through my Instagram Explore page. I then happened upon a meme with a punchline that focused on forgetting to say ayat al kursi before bed. I didn’t pay it much mind at first, but I realized after the fact that I wasn’t used to seeing memes geared towards Muslims. It reminded me of our stand up comedy unit. Really, memes are just a more accessible, more modern, more young version of stand up comedy. They are the creative-humorous outlet of our generation.

Clicking through the account, I was incredibly intrigued by its structure and posts. Run under the handle @muslimgirl and proudly proclaiming to be based out of Brooklyn, NY, this meme page had a remarkable following of 44.7k instagram users. “Muslim women talk back,” announced the minimal biography.  Continuing to scroll through their content, I saw various posts that joked about strict parents, more lenient interpretations of Quran, various fashionable ways to wear the hijab.

all posts courtesy of @muslimgirl

 

 

Observing these jokes, my reaction is a bit mixed. On one hand, I think it is great to give a platform catered specifically to a largely unrepresented Muslim youth community. This gives voice — and in particular, a light humorous voice — to the issues relevant to young Muslims. And specifically young Muslim women, which is interesting to unpack in its own light. On the other hand, I find some issue with the fact that this account claims to give voice to “Muslim women,” while clearly just representing a very specific type of Muslim woman. One who is more liberal than conservative in her interpretation, one who lives in the Western world (largely the US), one whose parents don’t understand her, etc. etc. I have to wonder what Muslim women who don’t fit this bill would think of the page. For instance, the accompanying website offers the following introduction to the mission of Muslim Girl.

“When you first heard our name “MuslimGirl,” one of two things probably happened.

If you’re a Muslim, you were like, “Yes, finally — that’s me!”

If you’re not a Muslim, you might have flinched and thought something along the lines of, “Ugh, not these people…”

As much I recognize the subversion tactic being employed by the site’s creators, as well as its power for bringing voice, representation, and sense of community to those that do say “yes, finally — that’s me!” I have to wonder about the exclusion or frustration that Muslim women who don’t identify with this branded version of themselves may or may not feel.

But moving forward, it is important to note that the page serves as more than a platform for humorous memes. It also takes measures to extend its message to more serious issues, from fighting Islamophobia, to practicing inclusivity, to promoting the work of female activists within the Muslim American community.

 

 

 

It is important, in my opinion, that our discussions of popular culture do not overlook Millennial-specific user-generated examples of popular culture. Instagram and meme culture provide an incredible insight into the lives of communities and individuals. Through this blog-like, low-effort platform, we are able to witness jokes between members of the diaspora, issues relevant to Muslim life in the US, and avenues for solidarity in times of hardship (like the Trump administration).