The debate in France over banning burqas is one of those issues where geopolitics, gender and religion all collide in a train wreck. In terms of media coverage, that collision has raised a cacophony of voices, ranging from Americans aghast at the notion of government intervention in religious expression to the nationalist, anti-immigrant rhetoric of xenophobic French politicians.

But the one voice that seems to be missing from mainstream media coverage of the issue in the U.S. is that of the burqa wearers themselves. While a few have been quoted as saying they wear the garment by choice, there are seldom questions inviting the wearers to explain why they prefer it over the dominant clothing styles.

The French "burqa" is known elsewhere as a niqab, a skullcap and tight scarf over the chin and neck with a slit for the eyes. Supporters of the ban say the burqa is a symbol of female oppression, and a French parliamentary report on Tuesday called it "unacceptable" and recommended forbidding it in many public places. The anti-immigrant tone from many of the ban's supporters is amplified by the fact that even some French Muslims see the burqa as a sign of extremism spreading through Europe.

But it's estimated that 90 percent of the 1,900 French women who wear burqas are under 40, two-thirds are French nationals, half are the children of immigrants and nearly a quarter are converts to Islam. So the Economist concludes the burqa doesn't represent an influx of women from fundamentalist Islamic countries; rather, it's an assertion of religious identity by young French Muslim women. Others say the burqa is an anti-Western statement, and any ban on it would amount to cultural imperialism.

Non-burqa wearing women see a parallel in efforts to control clothing in their own lives. Vicki Woods, a columnist with the Telegraph in the U.K., wrote, "I've met a few men in my time who have wondered if perhaps I mightn't like to remove items of clothing so we can all feel more comfortable. Mostly, reader, I kept 'em on."

Woods points toward a sentiment that's worth exploring further, preferably with a French woman who actually wears a burqa. That sort of questioning probes what it means to live and practice a religion in the dense context of daily life, something that reporters often overlook in favor of more easily gotten "official" pronouncements from pastors, clerics and politicians.

Philip Seib, author of The Al Jazeera Effect and director of the USC Center on Public Diplomacy, spoke to our class yesterday and helped fill in some gaps. He recounted a story in which a prominent American journalist put his foot in his mouth as he was trying to make sense of this issue.

When New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof asked women in the Middle East how they felt about being oppressed, they shot back that Western women are the ones being oppressed because they are the ones whose exposed bodies are exploited and used to sell products. For the women Kristof interviewed, covering their faces and bodies was a way to declare their freedom from that oppressive gaze.

The lesson here: it's all about context.