My Life: the modern Muslim woman is who she chooses to be

Maryam Ismail
January 11, 2012
http://www.thenational.ae/lifestyle/my-life-the-modern-muslim-woman-is-who-she-chooses-to-be

Where did this image of the oppressed Muslim woman come from and when will this battle against it stop? Growing up on a diet of Saturday TV matinees, every "Muslim woman" I saw in the movies was a belly dancer with a lot of chiffon wrapped around her. Mata Hari, who was actually a Dutch divorcée who recreated herself as a Javanese Hindu princess, changed the world of exotic women forever. In the films of old it was the dance of the seven veils that would woo a man into revealing secrets of war. Today, it seems there is the idea that under one's hijab lies some mystical inner working, one that needs to be covered up by another layer of normality.

This seemed to be the idea at a recent panel discussion called "The Role of Muslim Women in Society". This discussion was part of the ICover photograph exhibit by Sadaf Syed at the Sharjah Museum of Islamic Civilization. This exhibit is a sort of official debut of the new American Muslim. This newly christened, hybrid identity is one that hopes to erase all ties with Muslim cultural, ethnic and linguistic history.

The exhibit tries to show Muslim women breaking the boundaries of so-called tradition. Muslimah rockers, surfers and boxers are some of the examples of the "modern Muslim woman". OK, that may be well and good, but I am so tired of this conversation. Muslims are people and by virtue of this essential fact, they are going to do what they want. Perhaps some might wag a finger and proclaim this is un-Islamic. Others will argue that traditional (Islamic) ideology is a thing past and shout: "Come on now, get over it."

I am so over hijab hysteria.

Standing on the sidelines of this discourse is like watching a dog chase its tail with the sincere hope of catching it. And if he does, what will happen? More than likely, he'll yelp and bite himself again for being so stupid. Why should it be a special event if a woman who wears a hijab decides to be a fencer or a ballerina? Is it out of the realm of faith? Some may not think so and others may not care. Then, there may be another premise: that wearing the hijab will show the world that Muslim women have arrived. However, I think that if this is the case, they may end up being the oldest debutantes at the ball.

This was the case during the panel discussion sponsored by the US Consulate in Dubai. On the panel were the fashion designer Rabia K, the media consultant Wafa KBR, the artist Najat Mekky and the US foreign service officer Marwa Zeini. The first three are Emirati women who have been successful in their fields despite their covering Islamically and came to discuss their experiences. I don't want to steal my sisters' thunder - they deserve their applause, because their journeys have not been easy - but they were managing their lives as they see fit, within the context of their circumstances.

"Muslim women should wear clothes that they can run and play in," Zeini said. Was she trying to tap into my unconscious and force me to do battle with my former self? Just then, I got an uneasy feeling that someone was going to kidnap me the moment I stepped into the streets, and then announce the next day that I was miraculously freed by Brad Pitt and American values.

If anything, I wish someone would rescue me from this endless notion that a woman is nothing unless she aspires to run with the big boys or tosses her Muslim soul into the sea and declares she's free at last. Can we please talk about something else?

The weight piles on, but options for losing it are scarce

http://www.thenational.ae/thenationalconversation/comment/the-weight-piles-on-but-options-for-losing-it-are-scarce

Maryam Ismail

Nov 15, 2011 

I really thought I would get some exercise when the taxi fares went up, but I didn't. I just stayed home and gained weight. I won't embarrass myself by saying how much, but I will say that it has caused me a mountain of health problems. And when my doctor announced, "Your ideal weight is 65 kgs," I thought, okay, so where do I buy the ticket to this destination? Because that's the only way that I'm getting there.

Losing weight in the UAE is just too hard.

Gyms for women are rare and expensive and even some of the fancy-schmancy ones need a class on getting rid of mold and mildew. "No one exercises in the UAE," says Lama Yamout, a diabetes educator for Eli Lilly pharmaceuticals.

I met her at Sharjah's Kuwaiti Hospital, where she held an impromptu class on diabetes management. "You must at least walk for 30 minutes five days a week," she advised. It's easier said than done.

Someone in Sharjah had the right idea when they put some exercise equipment in Al Majaz Park. It was great. Women, some in abayas, jilbabs and the Turkish hijabs called pardessus were out there every day working up a sweat, with their children in tow getting some exercise too.

Women want to exercise and need a place to do so. In a Muslim society one idea would be to put a ladies-only exercise section in the park, instead of putting it right in the middle, in full view of peeping Toms. Better yet, why not give the guys their own parks full of equipment? Parks fitted out with a cricket pitch, a football pitch, some rowing machines and a track for walking or running might save a lot of trouble on both sides of the fence. Putting exercise equipment in parks is a great idea but it needs some culturally sensitive urban planning.

Recently, the UAE Government announced an extra Dh144 million for the Ministry of Health. I hope some of this is for preventive health care.

How many times have I heard that the UAE is the diabetes capital of the world? There are so many awareness campaigns, including the Dubai Diabetes Walk on November 25. If only there were a walk like that for us all to take part in every day.

Walking is great exercise for all, but a walking revolution will require better places to walk. There should be walking spaces for pedestrians, lanes for bikers, and access for wheelchairs. Fortunately some neighbourhoods in Abu Dhabi, and some higher-end Dubai locations such as the International Financial Centre, do have ample places to walk. But what about the other emirates?

One organisation that might offer some ideas, if not solutions, is the US-based National Complete Streets Coalition, which aims at creating more public spaces to encourage walking, biking and wheelchair access. I'd add baby-pushchair access also; how many times have I seen mothers pushing their babies down the middle of the street because there is no usable side walk?

Also, in a car culture such as the UAE's, walking is stigmatised. I remember suggesting to a friend that we could walk to lose weight. She said: "An Emirati walking? People will look at me."

Perhaps this attitude is tied to a recent Abu Dhabi Gallup Center finding that individuals aged 15-29 are likely to suffer from as much pain as those aged 30-44.

The attitude towards physical fitness has to change. The US National Center for Biking and Walking says children and adolescents need one hour of daily physical activity, and adults at least 2.5 hours weekly.

Look at the time a child spends sitting: as much as four hours on the school bus, five hours in school, three hours doing homework, three more watching TV or playing computer games or surfing the net. Total: up to 15 hours of not moving. There is a dire need for places for kids to play and walk.

In Majaz Park, meanwhile, there are a few climbing frames and two play areas - hardly enough for an area of 30,000 people.

With just some small changes, the UAE could become one of the healthiest nations on Earth.

But that goal will take effort and education, and also requires the resolve for us to incorporate community-orientated design features into our cities.

Physical activity should be a natural part of everyone's daily routine, not a special event that requires a nice T-shirt and a donation.

Maryam Ismail is a sociologist and teacher who divides her time between the US and the UAE

The treasures of our seas have lost their best advocate

http://www.thenational.ae/thenationalconversation/comment/the-treasures-of-our-seas-have-lost-their-best-advocate

Maryam Ismail

Mar 21, 2011 

Most of you don't know it yet, but UAE residents are about to suffer a massive loss. My family, and many others, has for some time appreciated a treasure trove that we discovered somewhere along the al Khan beach in Sharjah. Its gifts came in the form of a marine biologist, Kerwin Porter.

Never have I met anyone who oozed such enthusiasm for everything water-related. Dr Porter is a man who loves all creatures and plants that inhabit the sea. The smell of fish tickles his nose and the taste of salt is more than just seasoning for his favourite dish. He has an encyclopedic knowledge of fish, the antibiotic elements of the sea, the harmful effects of pollution, as well the dangers of over-fishing. I think he's turned my two girls into mini marine biologists.

Dr Porter, the curator at the Sharjah Aquarium, once told me that despite coming from a family of doctors, he chose not to follow in their footsteps, opting for the life aquatic. His closeness to the medical field, however, has instilled in him a fascination with the potential medicinal powers of sea-life. Luckily, as he has taught my family and many others, these can be found in the waters surrounding Sharjah.

Every Saturday, the Sharjah Aquarium offers an educational programme called Underwater with Kerwin Porter. Attending these programmes, I learned that the Arabian Gulf, which faces the aquarium, is home to an abundance of fish, turtles, sea horses and other animals, that unwittingly contribute to the world of healing.

Many of these sea creatures create their own forms of antibodies that help to protect them against the carcinogens produced by pollution. There are some others that have venoms that can be used in the production of medicines called bioactive compounds. Sea sponges, for example, are used to make a medicine that treats HIV. And interestingly, invertebrates, which lack immune responses such as the white blood cells humans have, use chemicals to fight off pathogens, many of which are being tested to for use in all sorts of medical treatments.

Dr Porter also revealed a deadly beauty found on our beaches. It's a poisonous creature that lives in those lovely little spiral seashells that kids love to collect. The conical mollusk, or sea snail, is luckily long gone by the time the shells wash up on our beaches. Now the snail is currently being studied to find a possible treatment for brain damage. Scientists at the University of Utah found that the venom that these creatures, genus Conus, possess, has qualities that can help protect the brain and heart.

The curator's biggest peeves are, not surprisingly, beach pollution and littering. "We found a dead dolphin and its stomach was filled with five plastic bags," Dr Porter laments. He also worries about how pollution is both harming the animals and affecting the healing properties of the sea. As plastic breaks down, it releases chemicals that harm fish and can reduce the healing properties of the water.

Dr Porter's infectious enthusiasm has captured the hearts of children who enjoy his discussions about the kingdom of the sea but he has also helped adults understand better what they can do.

Dr Porter has also been an advocate of safe fishing and expressed fears about over-fishing of species such as the UAE's national fish, the hamour, and sherri, long before their prices began to rise astronomically at the market. He taught my family, for one, how to choose wisely when shopping for fish by using a pocket flipbook available at the Sharjah Aquarium and published by the Emirates Wildlife Society (EWS) and the World Wildlife Fund (WWF), that shows which fish are at most risk from over-fishing or near depletion.

Just one session with Dr Porter is equivalent to a series of seminars on marine life. Unfortunately, I recently found out that he will be leaving the Sharjah Aquarium at the end of this month. It is a major loss for all of us who want to know more about our local aquatic environment.

It now falls upon all of us, big and small, who continue to be fascinated by the sea, to share the knowledge that Dr Porter shared with us.

Maryam Ismail is a sociologist who divides her time between the US and UAE

Amid the din of reform, teachers' voices are drowned out

http://www.thenational.ae/thenationalconversation/comment/amid-the-din-of-reform-teachers-voices-are-drowned-out

Maryam Ismail

May 22, 2011 

If I was a teacher getting a Dh20,000-a-month salary, free rent, utilities, a car allowance and free airfare home in the summer, I would do my best to keep my pupils, their parents and the administrators all in smiles. Right?

No thanks. Teaching in UAE is akin to being a lab mouse in a labyrinth. One minute it's rote learning, worksheets and a regimented classroom. Then it's technological theories about what makes learning "meaningful". You have to make it fun, they say. Now pupils only respond to comedians, wizards and tyrants. With a little dazzle and some child-friendly jokes, you might be a success.

They couldn't pay me enough. What starts out as a seemingly good job turns into a scene out of the movie Gladiator.

"State-of-the-moment" teaching relies too much on instructional acrobatics. Just as you stop to catch your breath, the principal catches you sitting in your chair. "Teachers don't sit anymore, that is so 19th century," she chides. Gone are the days of teaching "my way", the days of closing the door, creating a world between you and your pupils where learning and growth go together.

Then comes the day when you hear your dream of becoming a great teacher burst overhead. Although your brand-new briefcase is overloaded with the latest edition of pedagogy, the other teachers in your group missed that workshop so they are often at your door, creeping in to steal your ideas and techniques. Then they run over to the department head and claim intellectual rights, leaving you in the dust.

For those teachers who stay in the job, life in the classroom can be as funny as it is bewildering. Some might dazzle you with rap lyrics or moonwalking.

Then again, if you are a foreign teacher, that strange look on pupils' faces has an explanation. "Is she Kate from Lost or Nia Long from Big Mamma's House?" they ask each other. If you are a Muslim wearing an abayah, they will think their eyes are playing games on them because you look so familiar but act so differently.

Actually, I'm just playing. Really, the children aren't thinking that hard. For the most part they are just trying to figure out what you want them to do or patiently waiting for that one student who understands the assignment to finish so that they can start copying.

If you are really lucky, you work in one of those outstanding schools where all the head teachers are all on the same page. Your children are attentive and try hard to do well. The money is good, too. Most outstanding schools have career teachers who have to be up to snuff. No second chances or slipping through the cracks at a school like that.

For those of you on the front lines of education, I would suggest a jar of lavender oil for relaxation and headaches, some really soft sofa pillows for when you pass out 10 minutes after you arrive home, and a vibrating foot bath so that when you wake up in the morning, you won't feel like you still have your shoes on.

Teaching is hard work and you'll need these creature comforts just to survive. Stress is the reason that many teachers are leaving the profession. It's stress that hangs around like an unwanted freeloader, eating up every minute of your day.

In all of the news about education, the voices of teachers are ominously missing. They should matter the most in this conversation. Some think that schools are better now than before, others are not so sure.

The key to any successful school is consistency, dedicated staff, recognition for hard work and adequate pay. The lack of any of these infects teachers, pupils and their parents with a bad case of wanderlust, as they make their way through the school-reform maze hoping for a better life both inside and outside of the classroom.

Maryam Ismail is a sociologist and teacher who divides her time between the US and the UAE

My life: Bullying and rivalry

http://www.thenational.ae/lifestyle/my-life-bullying-and-rivalry

Maryam Ismail

Jun 29, 2011 

Home school means more than a place where kids read books in their bedrooms and mums teach from the sofa. It means home training. Here children learn not only how to be good people, but also that what they see on TV is not real. They get to see other images of women, realising that the ones who stay home are not losers and that sultriness does not constitute talent. Not everyone dreams of being Jennifer Lopez, Peoplemagazine's Most Beautiful Woman of 2011.

If you have a sinking feeling that the feminist banner has been thrown down on the side of the road, well, I guess you're right. Since the emergence of lifestyle icons such as our cover girl Martha Stewart and Nigella Lawson, many of us have been backsliding, returning to the days of domestic bliss, homemade pasta and colouring with the children.

I used to be a working woman. Back then, I was a ferocious monster who wrestled people to the ground when they got on my nerves. It was not pretty. So when I got the chance be a Stepford Wife, I went for it.

The voyage back from the world of work to home has emerged from the realisation on the part of many women that sometimes working is not worth it - also that raising a family is part of raising a nation. No, this is not some neo-con programme coming out of a US think-tank. What I am talking about is nation-building one child at a time. Teaching, housekeeping and cooking have their ups and downs, but for Allah and my family's security, I do them.

"The housewife is called upon to be an amateur electrician, mechanic, chemist, toxicologist and dietitian," said the late US president John F Kennedy. That's hardly a feminist viewpoint, but when he made this observation he gave honour to the multitasking challenges of maintaining a home.

Some argue that homemakers should earn a salary. How can you put a value on love, care, kindness and comfort? Imagine motherhood and homemaking becoming the epitome of an over-zealous Marxist political economy - a creepy scenario. Who would want a mother who takes weekends off and a two-week holiday?

These days, children lack good old-fashioned home training. Golden rules such as respect your elders, study hard and make your parents proud seem out of date to some. Kids raise themselves or are raised by maids, while parents use their homes as a place to lay the briefcase and heat up the takeaway.

Every time I go to the doctor with my children, she says: "Still, you're keeping them at home? It's not right." Could I be a megalomaniac who wants to control everything her kids do? No, I just want them to learn and not waste time with other stuff that comes up in school. Nor do I want the hassle of tussling with administrators over fees and poor pedagogy. I just want the best for my kids.

I'm no Tiger Mum who loads youngsters down with activities, academic goals and a backslap when they slip up. My kids do only one or two activities a month. However, they do a lot in the way of interacting with their friends, family, neighbours and our community. They're learning to understand how different cultures coexist and that what's appropriate for one is not for another. This they could never learn within the realm of playground politics. With bullying and competition, they may learn only what makes people hurt, not heal. Empathy, thoughtfulness and healing are what I hope to teach them at my home school. It's the best school money can buy.

Maryam Ismail is a sociologist and teacher who divides her time between the US and the UAE.

Reading, writing and 'rithmetic - it all adds up to high fees

http://www.thenational.ae/thenationalconversation/comment/reading-writing-and-rithmetic-it-all-adds-up-to-high-fees

Maryam Ismail

Jul 4, 2011 

What is at the heart of the foggy, tangled maze of why schools cost so much? It's a lack of transparency about what, exactly, parents are paying for.

Every parent I know can list their problems and questions relating to their children's schools - not to mention suspicions of outright thievery. Even after Dubai's inspections, schools are still putting one over on parents and laughing all the way to the bank.

Don't get me wrong, the inspections by the Knowledge and Human Development Authority (KHDA) have been very useful, putting a speed bump in front of breakneck fee hikes, but many parents feel that more needs to be done.

Preparing for the start of the new term in September, my nephew had been looking for a school for his daughter. Since he's new in the country, he asked me to look around for him. I went straight to the grapevine, asking my friends and neighbours how they felt about their children's schools.

One of my friends has a child at one of the schools my nephew was interested in. She liked the school, but I wasn't so impressed when I checked its website and found out that the school charged extra for Arabic and English-language classes. How can they get away with charging extra for core classes?

Transportation fees are another thing that irks parents. One parent told me that she and her husband were being charged Dh8,000 a year for their child to be driven 15 minutes to school. For that kind of money, it just makes sense to drive them yourself.

Many of the schools use buses that can seat 50 pupils. Fifty times Dh8,000 adds up to a lot of money. Are we supposed to believe that Dh400,000 in transport fees is simply to cover costs as some schools claim?

I had to take my heart pills after seeing the fees that some schools have been demanding. "It's a mafia," my neighbour told me, and I couldn't argue with her. Another school was asking for a deposit of nearly Dh30,000 on top of regular tuition and registration fees, which totalled nearly Dh50,000 for kindergarten. Why am I thinking of The Sopranos instead of the A-B-C's?

It wasn't long ago when you could find advertisements in the classified ads with parents offering used books for sale. Also, uniforms were passed down from older siblings who attended the same school. It was a way of defraying costs, but not anymore. Parents are forced to buy new uniforms and books that they don't need and to pay for materials that come late or not at all.

When searching for a school these days, you need to keep your calculator handy. My Quran teacher told me that she had been asked to pay Dh490 ($133) for a book that I know costs $49 on the publisher's website. She refused, saying: "Why should I buy it when I can get it from my friend?"

They rejoined: "We've changed the books this year." She didn't budge however.

Another trend is that some schools are teaching only a portion of the curriculum in school, while offering another portion of the lessons for an extra fee. There are the usual, non-refundable registration fees, but Dh12,000 for an extra intensive English class for Grade One? That's outrageous.

They use the excuse that there's no time to finish during school hours. Another friend was livid when she learnt that in order for her son to graduate, he would have to take extra lessons that cost up to Dh1,500 per subject.

Parents just want a fair deal for their hard-earned money. They want schools that are keeping their promise to do what is best for the pupils in their care. I know that authorities have put restrictions on fees that schools can charge, but it might be helpful to look into the epidemic of hidden charges that seem to arise. This would help to ease the minds of parents who are lying awake at night wondering where they will find the money to pay for their child's education.

Maryam Ismail is a teacher who divides her time between the United States and the UAE

My Life: Why pop stars' clothes are unsuitable for children

http://www.thenational.ae/lifestyle/fashion/my-life-why-pop-stars-clothes-are-unsuitable-for-children

Maryam Ismail

Aug 17, 2011 

When I went to do some beat-the-rush, early Eid shopping, I ended up empty-handed.

"Maybe I should just wear boys' clothes," my eldest girl sighed in frustration. Was she reading my mind? I confessed that when she was a toddler, I had no choice but to buy her jeans and T-shirts from the boys' section of the store. Walking around with a baby-sized Bratz doll in a pushchair was not my idea of cute.

As I looked for the dust on the windowsill in this Orwellian fashion nightmare, I couldn't help but think that somewhere in the upper rooms of kiddie couture there was a group of clothiers conspiring to convince me that 8-year-olds and 10-year-olds are ready to enter the scantily clad adult worlds of Nicki Minaj, Britney Spears and Keyshia Cole.

Booty-choker jeans, micro-mini skirts, camisoles and shorts that resemble unmentionables crushed my little tweens' hopes of getting something dazzling to dress up in for Eid. They seemed sad, but what kind of decent mother would dress her daughters in clothes that some would consider lingerie?

I looked at some other little girls at the mall, whose mothers didn't seem to mind that their daughters were dressed inappropriately. Some seem to think of it as a trend. To my relief there was one parent who in exasperation said: "There's nothing for us here." Perhaps the "us" was us mothers who had our senses about us.

I want my girls to dress in something that doesn't make them look like what my father used to call a "jezebel". To him, a farm boy from South Carolina, this meant a girl with questionable values. For my three sisters and me, his fashion sense was mind-boggling: no hoop earrings, lip gloss or hot pants, which could get us sent upstairs until further notice. Daddy obviously knew the lurking dangers out on the streets that we weren't aware of. If he were around today and had to shop for clothes for us, he'd have locked us upstairs forever.

M Gigi Durham wrote The Lolita Effect, which examines the trend of fashion and media portraying little girls as objects of desire. This is dangerous and misleading, sending mixed messages to our daughters. They're told they have to stay in a child's place, but they aspire to look like adults. Of course, it's up to the parents to take control and let them know this is not acceptable. That's what my mother did.

Hot-glued on my memory forever is the Shakespearean-inspired, grey-white-and-yellow plaid blouse with billowy sleeves that had tapered, purple, crocheted wrists. I was my mother's signature model who introduced her eclectic genius to the world. I wore her clothes without complaint because sewing was her love. When she showed off her latest line to the neighbours, she got a lot of nods and smiles and remarks such as "That's really cool".

Searching for my own inspiration, I've found a love for Indian cottons and African prints; with these and a store-bought pattern book, look out! I'm cutting a new haute couture line. My girls, who love long skirts, brightly coloured hijabs and Fulla-inspired styles, will play muse as I craft my own line especially for them.

Last weekend, I created a pattern for an Eid skirt, and that's how I'll be doing it from now on. No doubt, I'll spare them the Shakespearean chic. Instead, we'll be creating a Muslim-inspired moda together, one that little Muslimahs can love and feel great in.

As for those shops at the mall, sorry, guys, denim Bermudas are just not our shtick.

Maryam Ismail is a sociologist and teacher who divides her time between the US and the UAE.