Quratulain smiled when she looked at the photo, telling me how serious everyone looked except for her older sister on the end. She says they had been told to sit still for too long, and by the time the picture was taken, no one knew what to do with their hands or faces. She explains that her childhood felt like this photo, constant closeness to her siblings. Growing up in a Pashtun household, the family was extended to cousins, aunts, and uncles moving in and out of the same space. Someone would call everyone to pray namaz, and the kids would line up like ducklings, some standing on their heads during sajdah while no one else was up to see. When Quratulain moved to New York with her husband in 1998, she said it felt like she lost a piece of her liver. For the first time, she found herself without that immediate network of people who understood her without explanation. She describes those early years in New York as isolating in a way she had never experienced before. In Astoria, she says she had to rebuild her family from scratch. Over time, she formed close relationships with other Muslim women in the neighborhood, many of whom were also living far from their families. They met through the mosque, or at supermarkets shopping, or while pushing strollers to and from schools, and began to support one another through daily life. She refers to them now as “my sisters here”.

– QS

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