Anishnaabe Muslim unpacks complexities of converting to Islam

Islam is one of the most converted religions in the world, but it's unusual to hear of First Nation people joining it. In fact, Wiikwemkoong's Tanya Osawanimiki has yet to meet someone who is, like her, both Anishnaabe and Muslim.

Osawanimiki's first encounter with Islam was through her brother, Dakota Manitowabi, who turned to that faith during his incarceration.

"I wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying," she said. "I thought maybe he was having some problems, it sounded so foreign to me." 

But she says Islam would come knocking on her door again shortly after, when she met her husband Junior Usher, a biracial Muslim convert from Nova Scotia. 

From there on she started doing more research about Islam, and found there were a lot of similarities between what she was reading and the teachings she received from elders while growing up.

"The seven grandfather teachings are about love, respect, honesty, bravery, wisdom, humility and truth," said Osawanimiki. "That, to me, is what Islam is."

For her, there are also commonalities when it comes to food. She says in both Islam and Anishnaabe culture, it's important to give thanks to the creator for the food, to minimize the suffering of the animals, and to think about the afterlife, or the spiritual world.

Converting to Islam has come at a cost

She says becoming a Muslim has enriched her life in many ways. 

"I'm a better partner. I'm a better mother. I'm a better community member." 

But she also says it has come at a cost – she's lost some friendships and has had to deal with mean and ignorant comments from some of her peers.

Osawanimiki thinks some people in the community might be suspicious of religion in general because of the role Christian churches played in residential schools. 

She says that legacy has nothing to do with Islam, but it still shapes perceptions around her. Add to that the fact that one of the symbols of her faith and identity, the hijab, really stands out in a place like Wiikwemkoong. 

"People ask me about it, why I wear it," said Osawanimiki. "I tell them I am humbling myself, and this is my crown." 

"It wasn't easy for me to put this on. I struggled with it for a long time. I was worried about how people would view me. At first I felt like it took some of my beauty away. 

"But I learned to love it, because when people look at me, they can tell I'm a Muslim, and that's beautiful." 

As Ramadan draws to a close, Osawanimiki reflects on the past month. It wasn't her first Ramadan, but it was the most challenging one so far. 

"Being converted to Islam, we have to learn it and practice it on our own, it's a little daunting at times," said Usher. 

He says it would be easier if there was a Muslim space nearby to turn to for guidance, but the nearest mosque is a two and half hour drive away in Sudbury. 

Might there someday be a space for Muslims in Wiikwemkoong? 

"Inshallah," says Osawanimiki with a laugh.