As I wove my way through a crowd of protesters down on Wall Street, part of me wanted to march with them while the other part just wanted to get to the subway entrance on the other side of the street.
Growing up I had secretly lamented that mine was not a generation of revolutionaries. I didn't think I would ever experience the likes of Malcolm X or Che Guevara; the world had already been divided into its blocs of nations and we just had to work within the system. But over the past year I have come to realise just how wrong I had been.
When the revolutions in Tunisia, Egypt and Libya were taking place, I was glued to the computer screen and the television, watching as people stood together to fight for their rights. I had assumed that mobilisation of the masses was something of the past, replaced by comfortable complacency. Now I got chills as I watched the events unfold in Tahrir Square.
I wanted to go to Egypt, but that wasn't my fight. Neither was anything else occurring in North Africa. Walking through the crowd on Wall Street, I also felt that this was not my fight. I support it, and share the connection to "humanity" and the desire for justice, but I'm not American, so I wanted to save my chanting efforts towards something I feel I can actually change. Years of becoming too attached to issues across the world have made me more pragmatic. We can't all start revolutions, but we can do our part for our community. And these changes don't have to be strictly political or ground-breaking. I've always been more fascinated with prevailing values that I feel need to be changed, first at the social level and then on the political field.
Confusion between what is traditional and what is religious is common in many Muslim countries. This pains me, since in many cases, religion becomes an excuse to subjugate women to second-class citizens. As an Arab and Muslim woman I look at countries such as Saudi Arabia and wonder why women need to navigate most of their public lives under the chaperonage of a male family member. Or on a basic level, why would a woman not be allowed to drive? Islam was a revolutionary religion in terms of the rights it granted women during the times of the Prophet (PBUH). But what about now? What is the reasoning for regression into male chauvinism?
I've always felt blessed that I come from a family of independent, strong women to look to for inspiration, and that I was brought up in a household that treated me and my brothers on an equal level. And the UAE has always been progressive in giving women equal opportunity, as championed by Sheikha Fatima bint Mubarak, but as a society we still have much work to do. While I see the value of wanting to "protect" women in society, putting limitations on them but allowing men to do as they please can mean an unequal balance of power. Protecting daughters from being harassed or disrespected by men starts with educating boys to respect girls.
Furthermore, the whole tradition that women go from the care of their fathers to the care of their husbands shouldn't be a babying or limiting factor; men are supposed to make sure the rights and freedoms of their wives, daughters and sisters are upheld.
We all have something that we feel passionate about. Much like the protesters on Wall Street, I believe that everyone needs to give back to society, especially if he or she has been blessed. Having been blessed by growing up the way I did, I'd like to work towards ensuring education for young girls in the Arab world, because I believe that education is the cornerstone of any thriving society.
Fatima Al Shamsi is an Emirati based in New York
