People are slowly starting to fill the seats in Clarke's Restaurant in Evanston Illinois. The hum of early morning chatter fills the room as patrons sip their coffee, thumb through The New York Times, and order eggs. Twenty-two year-old Sana Khan wants waffles with whipped cream and strawberries. She places her order and the black veil over her face rapidly rises and falls with each puff of air as she speaks. You wonder how she's going to eat those waffles. * * * * * An increasing number of young Muslim women in Chicago are choosing to express their faith by wearing the hijab (head scarf) or the niqab (facial veil). The political and religious implications of this decision have recently reentered the spotlight as demonstrated by the October comments of Prime Minister Tony Blair and former British foreign minister Jack Straw. After declaring such demonstrations of faith a "visible statement of separation," both Straw and Blair's stances were quickly supported by author Salman Rushdie who was quoted as saying, "veils suck." But Islam is the world's second largest religion with more than 1.3 billion followers, 4.5 million of which live in the United States, and these statements have overlooked the unique experiences and motives of the increasing number of young Western women choosing to cover. Many American Muslim women admit that they would not have chosen to wear the hijab or the niqab if they had been raised out of the country. "If you come to America after growing up abroad, you want to assimilate to the culture, but we were raised here and so we just want to find ourselves," says 23-year-old Sadaf Khan, a Chicago native and student at Northeastern University. She is one of many that feel the cultural traditions abroad have lost their religious meaning and stifle women. The freedom and diversity of the United States has allowed a new generation of Muslim women to learn about and embrace their religion without an overwhelming cultural influence. "Those young women born here and raised here are more religious than the older generation that came from overseas," says 21-year-old Amani Sadeeh. Her 48-year-old mother Wafeeqa Sadeeh owns and operates the Islamic clothing store El Jeeb Hijab and Gifts and immigrated to the United States from Jerusalem in 1978. Choosing not to cover until she was in her mid twenties, Wafeeqa admits that she struggled with her daughter's decision to wear the hijab at the age of 12. She worried that Amani would not completely understand the meaning behind the decision at such a young age. "We didn't speak for 3 days," Amani says. The Sadeeh family has run their clothing business for more than three years and notices the age of their clientele. "A lot of teenagers come in to buy these clothes," says Wafeeqa. Located on Lawrence Avenue on the North side of Chicago, the store originally began as both a clothing outlet and salon for young hijabis (women who wear the head scarf). Considering that many Muslim women cannot have their hair cut in public where unrelated men can see them, salons that cater to this need for privacy are sought out. But, with consistently good business and an increased customer demand for more clothing items, El Jeeb shut down the salon, which took up a third of the store, to make room for more merchandise. A call to wear conservative clothing has always been an important part of the Quranic revelations. "The Muslim population is increasing and more people are choosing to dress modestly," says Waseem Rajbut, senior manager and part owner of HilalPlaza.com, an online Islamic clothing and goods store. Founded in response to the highly priced clothing offered by other Islamic online vendors, Hilal Plaza has enjoyed great success. "Initially when we came online we had no idea that the demand would be so big," he says. Hilal Plaza sells items that are nearly half the price of their competitors and has attracted a considerable market of consumers. The majority of which, Waseem admits, are young American Muslims. Bana Atassi worries that the increasing numbers of young women in the United States putting on the hijab aren't doing it for the right reasons. Growing up in Damascus, Syria and coming to the states for graduate school in her mid twenties, 42-year-old Atassi is now a practicing dentist in Willowbrook, Ill. She is also attending Northwestern University for her second Masters degree. Atassi feels that many young Muslims are choosing to cover as a sign of defiance rather than as a sign of freedom. "There's so much more attached to this decision now, for me it was always just clothes. I understand it as a freedom, I'm free to wear whatever I want," she says. A search for greater meaning in Islam from a new generation of followers is on the rise. "Young Muslims are on a quest for authenticity," says Marcia Hermansen, Loyola University Professor of Theology and PhD. in Arabic and Islamic Studies. "Since 9/11 and the Iraq War there has been an increased fascination to learn more about Islam," she says. Creating a shift from traditional dogma to internalized ideology, this fascination has revived Quranic and Islamic studies for many Muslims, especially young women. This revival has provided a foundation for those struggling to find themselves in the United States in addition to sparking interest in the hijab and the niqab. The Islamic Institute of Education (I.I.E) in Elgin, Ill. is one of 13 Islamic schools in the state that offer Quranic and Islamic studies. Founded in 1995 by Sheikh ul Hadith Hazrat Maulana Muhammad Naeem, the institute boards and teaches more than 50 students in grades 6th through 12th and is accredited by the state to issue diplomas. I.I.E. is similar to a private Catholic school because it combines secular and religious studies in the curriculum. English, Science and Math courses are required along with classes on Arabic, Quranic recitation, and Islamic law. The institute also provides a 4-year intensive post high school program in Quranic Studies, and issues certifications known as ijaazas, which allow individuals to provide religious counsel within the Muslim community. Twenty- two year-old student Tahera Ahmad enrolled in the intensive 4-year program after grappling with her identity as an American Muslim in high school. "I decided, I'm going to study in a traditional school and check this out for myself and study with the guys that wear beards and look like bin Laden and see whether or not they're crazy," she says. Daughter of Persian and Arab parents, Ahmad moved with her family to the United States from Saudi Arabia when she was 5. She played varsity basketball at Niles West High School in her hijab and often felt her role as an American citizen was different from other American women. Her desires to learn more about her faith lead her to enroll at I.I.E., an experience that has encouraged her to make a difference both in and outside the Muslim community. Boys and girls learn in same sex environments where a dress code is mandatory for men and women. Men wear long tunic like shirts and shorter pants in imitation of the prophet Muhammad, while women wear hijab and clothes that provide complete coverage from their wrists to their ankles. Niqab is not mandatory. The institute provides room and board for 50 students while 20 students commute. The school is separated into two buildings about a mile and half apart. One houses and teaches the women and the other, the men. Although the school is incredibly small it attracts students from all over the country. I.I.E. embraces a conservative and traditional format. Admitting that the connection between young men and women is one of the strongest attractions on earth, principal and Islamic scholar Ubaidullah Saleem insists that Islamic teachings help to temper these passions with modesty and prevent crimes against women that can result from such intense infatuations. "We want to provide a space for the youth to comfortably live in accordance with the teachings. We want to allow them to find a small environment where they can live as they want. They have that freedom," says Saleem, son of Sheikh Naeem founder of I.I.E. Many of the young women that have attended the institute have decided to wear the niqab. Saleem insists that these decisions were entirely their own. "We have an endearing strategy. We wait, we let them read and explore. The time will come when it will be their choice. We want the change for them to be both public and private," he says. This open dialogue is considered imperative to the learning process. Choosing not to wear niqab, Tahera Ahmad says her teachers encouraged her to question Islamic laws and avoid reliance on dogmatic tradition. She says that it was a personal decision. She prefers to show her face because she feels it facilitates communication, but maintains an absolute respect for the young women that have chosen otherwise. Ahmad was recently recognized for her knowledge and dedication to Islam. McGraw Hill publishing asked her to star in a short video segment on American diversity for an upcoming 7th grade film series called "How to Stay True to Yourself". A successful student, she splits her time between religious studies at I.I.E and biology courses at Elgin Community College. Like many women her age, she is debating her next step, and is considering either pharmacy school, or graduate school. A desire to attend university is something held by most of the women that attend the institute. Eating in the lunchroom at I.I.E seated traditionally on the floor and barefoot, the young women, some in niqab and others in hijab, are abuzz over their goals and dreams. Some want to attend medical school or pharmacy school or obtain degrees in education. They are confident and proud young women, enveloped by excitement for their futures. An air of liberation fills their space. These women love and value themselves. Firmly rooted in their choices to wear hijab or niqab, their self-respect liberates them. But 25- year-old I.I.E. English teacher Saba Umer knows what it's like to feel oppressed. Growing up in Kitchener, Ontario, she handled the stress of her family's financial problems by constantly changing her looks. She admits to changing her eye and hair color every week in an attempt to find her beauty through an unhealthy obsession. "My happiness depended on that. I fed on compliments and it came to a point where I was sickened by it," she says. Umer's family immigrated to Canada from India and was not religious. Her mother did not wear hijab. However, Islamic scholar Hafiz Azeem, the brother of a family friend, encouraged Umer to search for answers in her faith. Remembering his confident presence during their first meeting she says, "He was my age and he was so happy and peaceful and I was so miserable." Now wearing the niqab, she says this choice has liberated her. "I can get ready in five minutes, it's amazing. When I was younger, even if I did look beautiful I didn't feel it until someone told me, now I look at myself and can say that I AM beautiful." She says wearing the face veil and learning about Islam has taught her the sacredness of her beauty as a woman because it can't be marginalized. She is not made a sexual object and devalued. For these women, covering has given them self-confidence and in most cases, a sense of protection. "I feel empowered," says 19-year-old Kausar Khan. A sophomore studying journalism and psychology at Northeastern University, she hopes to become a journalist. She chooses to wear niqab. Khan is a second generation American raised in a Muslim family. She decided to look into face veiling after being followed home from school by an older man. A trip on a public bus and train everyday served as her means of transportation to and from Whitney Young College preparatory. Wearing regular clothes and only the hijab at the time, she was aggressively pursued by a man. And even though she made it home safely Khan was both afraid and infuriated. "I thought what the hell is wrong with this guy? This is so ridiculous, why should I have to put up with this even once?" she says. For Khan, wearing the face veil provides a sense of safety and protection. Redefining her interaction with men, she has not dealt with such an incidence since. Islam has taught her that women deserve to be valued as much as men, and they should not be characterized only by their outward appearance. She says that she is now seen and respected for who she truly is and is not defined by her looks- a problem that she says all American women deal with. "You look at guy's magazines and their content is about a variety of things. You look at girl's magazines and the majority are about how to look good and attract a guy." She uses Cosmopolitan magazine as an example. She references the American feminist movement and asserts, "We want the same goals, but pursue them in different ways." Despite the intended objectives and inner satisfaction, the decision to veil has not been an easy one. For many young American Muslim women it has been a personal struggle. "It's natural to be afraid because it's scary to be different," says 21-year-old Northwestern University senior Aisha Arif. First deciding to wear the hijab in seventh grade, she says the choice was a difficult one where she struggled to become comfortable in her skin, but she feels stronger as a woman to have made the decision. "It's hard, but part of American culture is accepting this diversity so I feel that it is in the spirit of the culture to have my own religious faith and stand by it. I'm able to distinguish myself," she says. Kausar Khan agrees. She says living in the United States allowed her to truly discover her religion. "It was the American ideal of wanting to be free that helped me make this decision," she says. * * * * * The waiter places the plate topped with whipped cream and strawberries in front of Sana and hands her a straw for her water. She cuts a piece of the waffle and then in one smooth and fluid motion she draws the veil slightly to the side and brings her fork to her mouth. It's a mundane act that is oddly graceful and simple. It's an adjustment to meet this woman in this environment. Her choice has made her stand out in a way that many feel is dangerous and oppressive. She is different, but she is still an American. At the end of the day, she is a young woman seeking respect and personal fulfillment. It is hard to ignore how happy and content she is. "Living in America has made it easier for me. It's hard to cover and be here, but at least I am given the freedom to do it. I am so grateful," she says. "I think it's so beautiful how things work out." She's smiling. I can tell by her eyes. Comments, email Malorie at m-medellin@northwestern.edu.