If there’s one thing that my Islamic Sunday School and middle school sex ed had in common, it’s that they split classes by gender.
The overlap just about ends there.
While the former looped through CDs to attune our ears to the correct pronunciation of the Arabic alphabet as we labeled maps that sketched out historical borders of the Middle East, the latter greeted us with live birth delivery room videos as we labeled eight and half by eleven inch naked silhouettes for a crash course on reproductive organs.
The juncture at which religion meets anything remotely associated with “modern” — from objectively advanced technology to subjectively new attitudes (usually anything relating to feminism, sex, and womanhood) — more closely resembles a murky, muddy swamp than any sort of intersectionality between two perpendicular roads.
As a fundamental underpinning to guide a way of life as opposed to just “a religion,” Islam is a lens that guides how we view the world; it plays a pronounced, active, and relevant role in our relationship with the world around us.
And inside of us. Like inside of our bodies.
Teenagers know where babies come from; breaking news, they understand it’s not just directly “from Allah.”