It's time for the Asr prayer. We near the Toronto Masjid and Wendy stops to take put her hijab on. 
She hopes to soon wear the hijab full-time but admits it takes a lot of courage.
The reaction of her family, friends and coworkers play a factor in the decision, for now.
She says she looks forward to the day when she can say 'salam' to a stranger without them becoming surprised or confused by her greeting.
 

Before going out, Wendy visits the prayer room at Ryerson to pray magrib, then waits for iisha and prays that as well.
Her plans for the night are to go to dinner for a mini-reuninon/ birthday party with old friends.
They know of her conversion and have no problem with it.
 

At the restaurant, Wendy and her friends catch up, reminisce and share recent stories.
For her birthday one of her friends gives her toy wine bottle filled with confetti. Everyone laughs hysterically.
 

Coming from jummah, Wendy continues to sport her hijab as she travels across the city.
 

In the women's prayer room at Ryerson University, Wendy makes dua and wipes her face to complete it. I ask: Were you praying the istikhara prayer (prayer for guidance)? She replies: Yes.

Before I can ask her what she was praying it for, we move out. She's always keeping busy.

She's done her classes for the day and goes to get some shawarma. We talk about Islam, school, work and everything in between.

Wendy's been Muslim now for about half a year.

She walks some more. 

We're stopped abruptly by a tourist who wants to take some pictures. She kindly stops to take his photo... and again, and again and again and one more time, and again. I find it hysterical.

At the request of the second subject of the convert essay we have pulled her segment.

We at kih and Shanele (photographer) apologize for any disappointment  this may have caused.

As we near her home, I notice her take out a pin from her hijab. I figure she’s just getting comfortable and I look away... I look back and her hijab is pulled down and wrapped around her neck like a normal winter scarf. I can’t show this photo for obvious reasons.
I had forgotten the situation with her family at home.

We reach her home, enter and are greeted by her mom and her rabidly barking dog. She exchanges a few words with her mom before openly saying “My mom’s angry at me.” She later tells me that they had an argument: her mom was driving her to work, which she was late for, and protested the idea of picking up a friend on the way. Although religion was never brought up in the argument, she feels one of the reasons her mom acted this way was because the friend was Muslim.

Usually she’s at school, at work, or with friends. But when she’s at home she spends most of her time in her room. I ask her: “do you think that your religion brought you closer to God but further from your family?”. She pauses to think. “I guess. Yeah, I do, sadly. I never regret it. They [referring to her family] are never going to think like I think. They just can’t get it.” She tells me her dreams of living in a house with other Muslims; a common dream espoused by many converts. She longs to constantly be around others who share a similar lifestyle and belief. She feels that a surrounding like this would help her grow in faith.

Regardless of where she’s currently living, she has still managed to come a long way in her faith. There are things in her life she is not completely happy about, as is the case with any person, but she tries constantly to be grateful for the many good things she has.
This is her life as a convert.

  T minus 10 minutes until work starts for her. The subject in this photo essay does not want her name to be shown as her Catholic parents fear that their relatives might stumble upon this site and learn about her conversion to Islam.

Time’s up. She rises and prepares for her shift in a job she’s held for over 5 years. She whips on her hijab, followed by a hat. She completes the look with her hood. Puzzled by the unique ensemble, I ask “why do you wear a hat and a hood on top of your hijab?” She pauses, and then laughs. “It’s warmer,” she says. Another pause. This time, in a more serious tone, she says:
“but I guess it also makes the hijab a little less apparent... and less threatening... and less uncomfortable.” 

Her boss has seen her before her conversion and knows what she looks like without her hijab. But is this the reason that she hides her hijab beneath a hat and hood? Or is it because of the consequences that would ensue within her predominately Italian community? She later tells me the story of one of her students who approached her after she had chatted with a niqabi woman. The student asked “why were you talking to that lady?” To which she replied “why not?”.
“Because they’re scary” the student said. 

Aside from the incident with her student, she hasn’t experienced any other negative comments regarding Islamic dress at her workplace. She sits with coworkers who freely chat with her, clearly free of prejudice.

Shanele Soares is an indie filmmaker living and working within the Greater Toronto Area. Although most of her films have been fictional pieces her love for documentation and exposition lead her to the realm of photojournalism.

This is Shanele's first publicized photo essay and is on a topic very dear to her heart as she is a convert herself.

For more information you can contact Shanele at: Shanele@movingimagephotos.com"