After my first World Hijab Day in 2017, I assumed participating this year would be easy. What wouldn't be easy? Why wouldn't I do it every year? But as February crept closer, I had to ask myself exactly why I was participating. Out of habit? Because I desire to see an increase in tolerance and understanding? To make waves on my conservative Christian college campus? Was I called by God to participate? Questions swirled in my mind for weeks as I tried to decide whether I actually wanted to participate in World Hijab Day 2018.

On February 1, 2018, I changed my outfit three times, trying to decide which scarf I wanted to twist into a hijab. I was participating for multiple reasons.Firstly, I believe that Muslim women have the right to wear hijab. They should not be discriminated against because they are following their faith. Related to that, I hope that if I am ever discriminated against because of my Christian faith, fellow people of faith would stand up for my religious rights, even if they follow another religion. Third, I wanted to educate my college campus. We're a beautiful mixture of many backgrounds and despite what the news seems to say, most of us are loving, tolerant people. Although I was worried about encountering the few people who are intolerant, I wanted to educate the people who are simply ignorant.

Last year, I was ready for confrontation. I almost wanted someone to call me a terrorist or some other horrible name, just so I could have the satisfaction of telling them how wrong they were. This year, I wanted to hide. Perhaps I was less prepared this year since I'd done most of my research last year. Perhaps Trump's election and overwhelming support across campus caused the nerves. Perhaps it was because this year February 1 fell during the second week of school instead of nearly a month into the semester, meaning my professors and peers didn't know me nearly as well.

Walking to work, though, I didn't hide. It took extra effort to walk as casually as always since I was suspicious that most people were doing a double take of the girl walking through the East Campus tunnel with a light blue hijab. This suspicion, an increased awareness of what everyone around me was doing and thinking, stuck with me the rest of the day.

Even in my hour at the front desk at work, I had to repeatedly remind myself to focus on the tasks at hand, not on the people walking by the glass doors who either did not care or were extremely confused by the hijabi woman the library apparently employed. When my co-worker came to the front for a minute, she told me that a passerby had done a double take and told me that she was available if anyone opened the door to say something nasty. Thankfully, no one did.

Actually, no one said anything rude all day. I picked up my books off campus and no one said a word, even the man I stereotyped as a redneck who might hate people that look like I did. That's another thing I did more of while wearing my hijab- stereotyping. Everyone nearby was subject to a quick, but thorough mental test of whether they seemed like the type of person who might be rude to me based on how they looked, walked, and spoke. It probably wasn't fair, stereotyping never is, but it made me feel a tad bit safer, although also a little paranoid. My evaluations would help me predict and avoid confrontation or they might fail me completely. After all, how do you look at someone and know the type of people they hate?

The organizers of World Hijab Day suggest going about your entire day as normal while wearing hijab, so that's what I did. I ate in the dining hall, where a friend wished me an enthusiastic "Happy World Hijab Day!" before eating with me and explaining the scarf on my head to her friends. I read in the library, where my friends stopped by to say hi and where a kind stranger asked about my hijab, commenting that he believed head coverings were a part of many religions and that Mary, the mother of Jesus, probably wore something similar to a hijab. I skipped my grammar class to catch up on my reading for writing as cultural engagement, making writing my only class of the day.

Since it was my only class that day, I was a mixture of nervous, excited, and curious. It's a small class of only sixteen people and I only know about half. The class only meets once a week, so the people who don't know me had only seen me once before. What would they think of my sudden hijabi appearance? What would the professor think?

One of my friends greeted me with a "Happy World Hijab Day" and a comment about reading my article about participating last year. Another friend briefly asked me about it. The strangers in the class said nothing. The professor said nothing. Although I knew there must be some curiosity in the people surrounding me, I participated in class as always. I had fun, not only because I love writing, but because causing curiosity is a bit fun, especially since I had supportive friends and I knew the professor. My participating in World Hijab Day wasn't completely fueled by my desire to make waves on campus but making a few small ones during class was a little bit thrilling.

The biggest thrill of the day was discussing turning my experiences from last year and this year into a published article. Odyssey is my primary source of publication, but my writing class requires us to submit a blog, a short essay, and a long essay for publication on other sites, so I was hoping to brainstorm ideas with my professor. She was enthusiastic as I explained some of my ideas and I walked back to my dorm that night buzzing with article pitch plans, one of which I actually submitted with her help.

Overall, it was a good day. No one called me a terrorist. No one looked at me with hate or judgement. Perhaps expecting such things puts the bar too low, especially on a campus dedicated to loving people like Jesus does, but I am continuously aware that humans are flawed. They listen to the wrong information and say hurtful things. It's simply a fact.