The physical isolation brought about by Covid has had many of us longing for community. It's Not About The Burqa editor – Mariam Khan – discusses the community spaces she values, as well as their importance to hold space for constructive dialogue, professional support, and friendship.

I’m always looking for community spaces. For a while, I waited for these spaces to be created by others until I realised I could create them myself. Community has always been an integral part of my life as a Pashtoon-Muslim woman. Community is everyone outside your doorstep as a Pashtoon-Muslim, and it’s important to meet the community and know them, to attend weddings and funerals and to be invested, to say hello to all the Aunties and Uncles, even the ones you don’t necessarily know the name of. These are the people you write letters for, and call their kid's school about free school meals, the same people who will ask you to go to the doctors with them because they can’t speak English. But they are also the same people who will hold your hand when you are in need, who will clean your house and look after your kids, who will cook food and throw themselves into responsibility when tragedies happen in your life. Community is complex and exhausting, if I'm honest. My understanding and need for communities has come from the absence of it and the romanticisation of it, because I felt abandoned by my community growing up and the aching absence of that has driven me to find it. 

My longest-running community on social media has been going for almost five years. A community created from everyone’s mutual love for reading is today, still thriving. For five years, every single day, we have discussed everything from books to love to heartbreaks, job losses and new jobs, family members passing, book deals, babies and motherhood. Those who were writing a few years ago are successful published authors now, and some have immortalised our group in their book acknowledgements. Those looking for jobs have found and left jobs, and started new ones. We have had dinners, helped with applications, had phone calls, the odd FaceTime sessions, and in between, we have held onto each other and carried one another. In the groups I put together there is no hierarchy, whether personal or professional. Nobody is out of reach, there is no barrier between those who are just beginning and those who have been there for a while. Of course there is understanding - there are those who have been exposed to experiences and situations that those who are at the beginning of our careers may not have been, but it is also true to say that those at the beginning of their careers have as much to offer. It takes a village to achieve our goals. None of our achievements are our own; they are an amalgamation of the people beside us who encouraged us when we were struggling, who opened up spaces to us that we had no business being in, just because they believed in paying it forward and they believed in the potential of our greatness. 

I decided that 2020 would be the year I would really embrace the freelancer writer life… and then a global pandemic happened, and the compounding isolation debilitated me. Somewhere early on, in the cusp of the first UK lockdown, I decided to do a callout for the women I wanted to be surrounded by. So I asked for women of colour working in the media to let me know if they wanted to be in the private group, and I was stunned by the interest. I’m always surprised by how these groups evolve. We talked about pitches, collated our contacts, upskilled each other through advice and opened doors for each other when we could. Eventually, knowing that we weren’t alone pushed us closer. We built on the vulnerability and compassion we all showed one another. We learnt lessons through one another. One person's hiccup became a lesson to us all and another person's success became all of our success. With so little to celebrate amidst Covid this past year, being able to celebrate gains each day felt like our sisterhood and community was a small revolution against being dragged into the darkness of the pandemic.

Isabelle Silvers, one of the members of my women of colour journalism group, said: “For me, finding supportive spaces for women of colour is a piece of advice I’d give to any aspiring journalist. When Mariam posted about the group, I was keen to join to share career advice and sense check pitches. "I expected to learn a lot, but I never expected the camaraderie and support that I’ve experienced over the last few months. We have shared opportunities, shared each other’s pain and frustrations at a mainly white, middle-class media industry, and supported every book deal, commission and radio appearance. This group is definitely the reason I kickstarted my freelance career alongside my day job and have taken a step towards publishing my first book. Now, I can’t imagine my life without them.” I believe in building communities, in holding each up and to account, in having space for healthy dialogues where you don’t all necessarily sing from the same hymn sheet. This was the same ethos I approached while curating and editing my anthology It’s Not About The Burqa, which is another thriving community I have curated. The women in this book have become a part of my life, friendships and ties have been created through the process of creativity and trust in each other, through the process of speaking gigs and signing books and supporting each other’s goals. 

These are multi-layered relationships where there is friendship and professionalism, and each has its own space. There are the women who have held me together when work or life was hard: they offered advice, a listening ear, they’ve sent cakes and mocktails via Deliveroo and held me whilst I cried. As I have done for them. These are the women who have, and will, love me when I’m being bright but also when I’ve been an idiot and they are firmly and gently telling me to get my shit together, whilst still seeing my potential beyond the haze. And yet these are the same women who expect me to challenge them to be their best selves, too. I’m all about overthrowing the patriarchy, but often wish the focus would move from men to women, to our sisters. And that is what these spaces are for. These spaces are safe havens for us all and it seems very few of them exist for women, and even less for women of colour, especially in a professional capacity. These women and communities have been a reminder that when I am turning away from the world or the world is turning away from me, these are the women who orbit around me and are constantly turning towards me and I towards them, because there is nothing more powerful than sisterhood.

Join the Digital Sisterhood

We have launched the Digital Sisterhood to provide women everywhere with the community and support they need. Be that a safe space to ask questions – and receive honest answers – or somewhere to find a digital event that will offer you the information, or perhaps the encouragement, you need to supercharge your career. We’re here for you, so please do head to  digital.allbrightcollective.com  to claim your 14 day free trial and join our community.

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