Arab Muslim Women in Canada: The UntoldNarratives

AMANI HAMDAN

Abstract

This paper is a discussion of how Arab Muslim Canadian women perceive them-

selves as women, the factors influencing their gender perceptions, and if that may

have changed as a result of living in two cultures: Arab Muslim and Canadian.

The nine Arab Muslim women interviewed were exposed to life and education in

their own societies as adults and then experienced life and education in Canada.

These women were interviewed to ascertain their gender perceptions and the

factors influencing their views. The findings of the study, through Arab Muslim

Canadian women’s narratives, show that the faith of these ArabMuslim Canadian

women heavily influenced the way they perceive themselves as women and their role

in society. This research indicates that Arab Muslim women are negotiating their

cultural, religious, and personal identities and that these negotiations operate in

complex ways. In addition, for some of the participants, certain aspects of cultural

traditions may have influenced the way they perceive themselves as women. For

other Arab Muslim women, the experiences and the opportunities that became

available through their education in Canada were regarded as significant in their

lives and perceptions.

Introduction

Although the number of immigrants coming to Canada from Arab Muslim nations is

increasing, the research literature focusing on Arab1 Muslim women living in Canada

and their gender perceptions seems limited. Studies focusing exclusively on the connec-

tion between Arab Muslim women’s educational pursuits and their gender perceptions,

and how these perceptions may have changed as a result of living in two different cul-

tures, are rarely conducted. Additionally, the factors that may influence an Arab

Muslim woman’s educational pursuits are seldom investigated.

This paper is a discussion of how Arab Muslim Canadian women perceive themselves

as women, what the factors are that influence their gender perceptions and if that may

have changed as a result of living in two cultures: Arab Muslim and Canadian. Taking

into consideration that Arab Muslim women interviewed were exposed to life and edu-

cation in their own societies as adults and then experienced life and education in Canada,

Arab Muslim Canadian women were interviewed to ascertain their gender perceptions

and the factors influencing their views. The empirical findings of the study, through

Arab Muslim Canadian women’s narratives, show that Arab Muslim Canadian

women’s faith heavily influence the way they perceive themselves as women and their

role in society. For some Arab Muslim Canadian women interviewed, certain aspects

of cultural traditions may have influenced the way they perceive themselves as women.

Journal of Muslim Minority Affairs, Vol. 27, No. 1, April 2007

ISSN 1360-2004 print/ISSN 1469-9591 online/07/010133-22 # 2007 Institute of Muslim Minority Affairs

DOI: 10.1080/13602000701308921

For other Arab Muslim women, the experiences and the opportunities that were available

through their education in Canada were regarded as significant in their lives.

Indeed, over the past few years academic research and scholarly literature on immi-

grant Muslim women and their perceptions has emerged,2 but a focus on Arab

Muslim Canadian women living in Canada, their education, and their gender percep-

tions remain unexplored. The aim of this paper is to develop a more complete under-

standing of how Arab Muslim women living in Canada perceive their gender roles and

if these perceptions have changed as a result of living in two different cultures: the

societies in which they grew up and the Canadian society they were a part of at the

time of the study. In particular, this paper explores the factors that have influenced

their gender perceptions.

This research contrasts the underlying assumptions of some current literature on

women’s education. Some of this literature3 indicates that women from traditional

“Third World4” societies (e.g. Arab Muslim and Middle Eastern societies) might be

“emancipated and liberated” through Westernization and experiencing Canadian edu-

cation and living. In my view, Arab Muslim women who have immigrated to live and

study in Canada have moved from one form of “patriarchy” to another—only the

context differs. Like many feminist scholars,5 my research suggests that Western

women—Canadian women in this context—are not necessarily “emancipated and liber-

ated.” Indeed, in my research I explore the extent to which living and studying in Canada

may have helped Arab Muslim women participants to think of gender differently.

Arab Muslim Women and Canadian Education: An Overview

“The crucial feature of schooling is that all those who enter do not come out the same.”6

This raises the question of how schools and education affect people’s attitudes towards

themselves and the world. In this paper my intent is to focus on Arab Muslim Canadian

women’s gender perceptions, and what the factors are that affected these perceptions (i.e.

education, cultural traditions, and faith). The majority of the literature on gender and

education focuses on how educational institutions and education systems perpetuate

the gender divisions between the sexes.7 However, the literature has yet to address

how and what kind of education may alter the way we perceive our gendered selves or

make us capable of challenging the gender norms we were brought up to conform to.

Throughout the past few decades, since the influx of Muslim immigration to Canada,

research on Muslim women seems scarce and uncharted. It was after the 1990s that

research on Muslim women in Canada, their identity construction, and educational

experiences and realities became more topics of interest for researchers in social

science fields. There are only a few relatively recent studies on Muslim women in

Canada and the United States. One is Shahnaz Khan’s study, which discusses the

ways that Muslim women in Canada negotiate their lives as Muslims in a secular

society. The narratives of the Muslim women in the study, who are from different nation-

alities, suggest shifting strategies in terms of how these women’s identities are con-

structed in the light of race, class, gender, sexuality, and religion. The study revealed a

“nostalgia and a longing for a stable and comfortable identity”8 and the participants’

need to turn away from identifying themselves as Muslims.

A study on Ismaili9 Muslims in Canada conducted by Damji Tasleem and Catherine

Lee entitled “Gender Role Identity and Perceptions of Ismaili Muslim Men and

Women,” concludes that men and women do not differ from each other with respect

to gender role identity and gender role perceptions. Their views were consistent with

134 Amani Hamdan

the teachings of the Quran (para. 13). Damji and Lee argue that “only education affected

gender roles and perceptions. The participants who had more education endorsed more

liberal views than the participants who had less education.”10

The same study examines the hypothesis that those who had lived in Canada more

than five years would have more egalitarian beliefs towards gender roles than more

recent immigrants.11 The results of this study supported its hypothesis and also found

that Muslims with greater levels of education were more egalitarian in gender role atti-

tudes than less educated Muslims. While the study was limited because of the conven-

ience sampling method and the young age of the respondents (under 30 years), it does

illustrate that greater exposure to Western culture and education is a predictor of

greater modernity in gender role beliefs and attitudes.12

The other significant scholarly work is Jasmine Zine’s thesis entitled “Staying on the

Straight Path.” Through an ethnographic examination of four Islamic schools in

Toronto, Ontario, she critically examines the “social, pedagogical, and ideological func-

tions of these alternative, religiously based educational institutions in Canada.”13 Islamic

schooling and the construction of gendered identities and gendered relations was a theme

of Zine’s study. Indeed, the study demonstrates how schools are sites for the construction

of gendered religious identities for Muslim Canadian girls. Zine concludes, “Muslim

girls and women are subjects to the double alienation of gendered Islamphobia in

society and in the restrictive gender-based patriarchal norms within the community.”14

A complementary study to my research, the work of B. Mensch, et al.,15 explores

gender roles, socialization, and attitudes toward marriage among unmarried Egyptian

adolescents aged 16–19 years. The researchers examine the daily activities of adolescent

boys and girls, their views about the age at which people married and desirable qualities

in a spouse, and various indications of gender role attitudes, including perceptions about

whether wives should defer to husbands and about the sharing of household decision-

making. The study points out that

Access to education and the amount of schooling completed are powerful pre-

dictors of many subsequent behaviors and attitudes. Moreover, differential

access to education is an important indicator of gender inequality in a

society. Since the decision to enroll a child in school is generally made by

parents, and their perceptions about schooling may color children’s experience,

parental attitudes are also explored here as an element of socialization.16

The study concludes that there are strong gender differentiations: girls have much less

free time than boys, are much less mobile, are much less likely to participate in paid work

outside of their homes, and have heavier domestic responsibilities, regardless of whether

or not they are in schools. The study infers that although education is central to creating

new opportunities for young women, “it does not always challenge the expression of tra-

ditional attitudes for either sex or necessarily encourage wider horizons for girls.”17

What makes Khan and Zine’s studies relevant to my study is that both researched

Muslim women in Canada, specifically in Ontario, as I have done. The other significant

aspect of their studies stems from the fact that Ontario has the highest Muslim popu-

lation in Canada: one that is expected to increase over the next ten years. Each of

these studies explores the intersections of key issues pertinent to Muslim women such

as schooling, status, identity, gender, and religion. These recent studies represent the

diversity of Muslim women’s experiences. They may also encourage other scholars to

carry on studies that disrupt the monolithic representation of Muslim women and the

Arab Muslim Women in Canada 135

tendency to universalize and typify the experience of being a Muslim,18 particularly a

Muslim woman.

Methodology

The voices of different Arab Muslim Canadian women must be heard and better under-

stood through their own narratives. In attempting to hear the experiences and under-

stand their gender perceptions, I interviewed Arab Muslim Canadian women from

diverse backgrounds. Although I focus on gender perceptions, I am aware that other

parts of these women’s identities such as race, ethnicity, and culture are equally import-

ant in the way they impact women’s lives. Race and culture are not the focus of my

research, yet I acknowledge their importance in forming one’s identity. Just as other

research looks at race and education, or culture and education, my research focuses

on gender and education. In saying this, I agree with De Lauretis that other parts of

one’s identity “may have priority over the sexual in defining subjectivity and grounding

identity at a given moment.”19 I am aware of the intersections of gender, race, and class; I

also acknowledge that one’s identity is complex, has multiple facets, and stems from an

intersection of culture, religious affiliation, nationality, education, as well as citizenship.

Data Collection

My interviews with Arab Muslim women involved open-ended questions that allowed

the participants’ ideas to flow and their narratives to be constructed. I started my inter-

views with a demographic questionnaire that posed questions about place and date of

birth, profession, marital status, number of children, and details about educational back-

ground. I provided the interview questions for the participants before the one-to-one

interview, so they would have time to reflect. I spent approximately three to four hours

with each participant and the interviews were tape-recorded. Most of the interviews

were conducted in English; three interviewees chose to speak in Arabic. Once the data

were collected, the tapes were transcribed. I transcribed the interview tapes exactly as

spoken or verbatim by tape-recorder; the researcher may subject it to content analysis

. . . “the data are analysed and interpreted in the light of the research objectives.”20

I read through all the interview transcripts and highlighted the portions of the text

related to my research question. The data were divided into themes or categories to be

analyzed. Next, I assigned a temporary label to each highlighted section by writing the

research question, what does this correspond to? At the end of the process I had a list

of the labels, which I assigned and used in subsequent portions of the text whenever

they seemed appropriate.21 In my analysis of the participants’ interviews, I want to tell

their perspectives “as they say it.”22 I draw on Patton23 who suggests that direct quota-

tions from participants are a basic source of raw data in qualitative inquiry, revealing

respondents’ depth of emotion, the ways in which they have organized their words,

their thoughts about what is happening, their experiences, and their basic perceptions.

I use direct quotations about a theme from each interviewee’s narrative. For each cat-

egory the interview data were screened in its entirety and the particular area that fits

into category ‘a,’ for example, was extracted and put into a more manageable format.

Systematic analysis was performed on each category.24 Systematic analysis involves the

development of an elaborate system of categories by way of classifying qualitative data

and preserving the essential complexity and subtlety of the material under investigation.

136 Amani Hamdan

The findings presented in this paper are part of a wider doctoral research study exploring

the gender perception of Arab Muslim women in Canada.

The Research Setting

According to Statistics Canada,25 the number of immigrants from Arab Muslim countries

is steadily increasing. The Canadian population in 1996 included 188,430 Arab

Muslims, and this number is on the rise. Additionally, “two percent of Canada’s 31

million are Muslims”26 and two-thirds of the entire Canadian Muslim population

reside in Ontario. Since 1999, Islam has been among the top ten religious denominations

in Canada. In fact, since the 1991 census, there has been a 122% increase among fol-

lowers of the Islamic faith. In the past 20 years there has been a 400% increase in the

number of Canadians who say that they are Muslim. The impact of such large

numbers of a particular immigrant group on Canadian society cannot be underesti-

mated. Further, given the way in which women are positioned in Arab Muslim societies

and in Canadian society, it is important to conduct a study that examines the perceptions

of Arab Muslim women about their role within this new context.

The Participants

I interviewed nine Arab Muslim women who attended or were attending post-secondary

programs in Canada, who had some previous education in their home country, prior to

coming to Canada, and who all share an Arab Muslim culture.

To gain access to Arab Muslim women who were educated in Arab Muslim nations

and then moved to Canada to continue their post-secondary education, I contacted

various councils and associations, including the Society of Graduate Students’

Council, the Arab Students’ Association, and the Muslim Students’ Association that

are affiliated with universities in South Western Ontario as well as the Arab Muslim

local community, to look for potential subjects. I soon became aware that many of the

young Arab Muslim women I knew did not fit the research criteria because they had

not studied in Arab Muslim countries, as they immigrated with their families at a

young age. Almost all their acquaintances and friends were first, second, or third gener-

ation Canadians. One of the young Arab Muslim Canadians took it upon herself to solicit

participants for my research after Jumaa (Friday prayer).27 Soaad,28 who helped me find

almost all the participants, became a valuable source in my research and showed another

aspect of community cohesiveness and communication.

The nine women29 who participated in this study range in age from 19 to 55 (Table 1).

They are all Arab Muslim immigrants living in Canada; they all came to Canada as young

adults and therefore obtained part of their education in their societies of origin. As

Bateson argues, “Many women who are raised in male dominated cultures have to

struggle against the impulse to maintain complementarity without dependency.”30

This statement represents my participants; however, the majority of the Arab Muslim

women interviewed represent a certain rebellion against the cultural norms. For instance,

Fadwa’s decision to stay in Canada and pursue her education while her parents are in the

Middle East is an outstanding example. This woman with village roots constructed her

life around her professional achievement and attained her goals, undistracted by the

negative gossip she faced.

As I reflect on the women I interviewed, I remember that some were proud, while

others were embittered and frustrated. The composite lives and experiences each

Arab Muslim Women in Canada 137

lived, and still lives, are the keys to understanding how Arab Muslim women make sense

of interruptions and discontinuities in their lives. Moving from one place to another is

one explicit aspect of discontinuity, but there are also implicit discontinuities, such as

shifting dreams; for instance, in Ruba’s and Fadwa’s case, their dreams shifted from pur-

suing medical school to pursuing different paths. In each of these women’s lives there are

discontinuities and interruptions in thoughts, dreams, homes, and careers.

The Interview Dynamics

An Arab Muslim woman interviewing other Arab Muslim women and exploring their

gender perceptions and the elements that influenced their views of themselves, poten-

tially constitute a dilemma for social science research. I remain aware of the power

dynamics inherent in insider research. Yet, by concentrating on the methodological

approach to ensure that the voices of Arab Muslim women are heard through their

own narratives, Arab Muslim women were able to present their gender perceptions incor-

porating accounts of their life experiences and informed the research of various factors

that have influenced their views.

Indeed, my interest in exploring narratives of Arab Muslim women and the gender

aspect of their identity stems from the fact that I am a Muslim woman who lived in

Saudi Arabia during my undergraduate years and moved to Canada to pursue graduate

studies. My university years in Canada as a graduate student have provided me with

incredible opportunities to develop a critical sense of self. Throughout my schooling

in both countries, my gender identity as a woman was being shaped and reshaped.

Patriarchy and racism are inherent in the construction of my gendered identity as a

Muslim woman. I emphasize that as much as these experiences have been personally

challenging, they are also enriching and ultimately exciting. I also maintain that it is a

privilege to be a member of both worlds—Saudi and Canadian—which are equally

rich and have a lot to offer in terms of my personal growth.

Constructing Gender within Arab Muslim Societies

The interviewees describe the impact that their faith, cultural traditions, and education

had on their gender perceptions.

TABLE 1. Demographic and socio-economic characteristics of the interviewees

Name31 Age32 Profession

Marital

Status

Years of

Residence

in Canada

Number of

Children

(if any)

Level of

Education

Yasmine 43 Family physician Married 20 7 M.D.

Nora 36 Exercise psychology Married 5 2 M.Sc.

Morooj 48 Photographer Married 5 5 B.A.

Sahra 31 Computer analysis engineer Married 5 2 M.Sc.

Ruba � Computer analysis engineer Single 6 None M.Sc.

Fadwa 25 Teacher Single 9 None M.A.

Eman 33 Teacher Married 8 3 B.A.

Wafaa � Teacher Single 6 None B.A.

Nahlaa 19 Engineer Single 1 None B.Sc.

Note: � indicates the interviewee refused to declare their age.

138 Amani Hamdan

Some aspects of the women’s narratives reflect the superiority given to men’s edu-

cation. For example, Wafaa’s experience with education in Lebanon was unique

because of her village background. According to her, in every village there are stereotypes

about the value of boys’ education: Boys are the ones who should go to school while girls

should stay with their mothers to be socialized in a way that makes them ready for the

nurturing role of a wife and a mother. Wafaa explained that the girls only think of

getting married and then being taken care of by their husbands. Their reaction to

subtle gender patriarchy was astounding. Yet, when asked if education was a necessity

for men and a luxury for women, Eman disagreed; however, she nonetheless differen-

tiated between the men’s worlds and women’s worlds and why it is important for each

to obtain an education:

Well, education is a given right to every human being, and I believe that women

have a more important role than men in building society, thereby building civi-

lizations . . . Even the women before our time where schools didn’t exist, they

were educated and education was passed down by fathers, by brothers. It was

passed down by anyone in the community who was willing to give education.

It doesn’t have to be an institution of a school as we know it now, as long as

knowledge . . . is passed down to women or girls and boys the same way,

because they both have important roles . . . The man is going to go out there

in the world and he’s going to provide for his family . . . He’s going to basically,

be a productive entity in the community, and the woman is too, whether she

worked outside the home or worked inside the home, her role is very important

in that she needs to educate her children. I mean she’s the one that, they are

created in her, they are born from her, and she nurses them. So it’s just her

nature to look after the children.

Eman stresses the idea of a woman as nurturer, and a man as provider. She continues:

Yes, a man can nurture them [the children] as well . . . and some people can dis-

agree with me and say, well a man cannot do that; but it’s mothering. I mean

even the verb says so. So education is important for a woman, just as it is

important for a man. And for her to acquire knowledge, it can be anywhere,

really. I mean if it was in the institution of school as we know it now, or in

any way or form; but she has to be educated . . . . It is a crime, really, I consider

it as a crime if she is not educated, if she is not given that right to be educated

because in the long run, she will affect more individuals in society.

Morooj agreed that in Arab Muslim society the man’s education is still given more

importance than the woman’s, the main reason being:

. . . he will be responsible to feed a family so the higher grades he gets, the better

his future will be. Although my parents were happy and encouraging me, they

would be more concerned if my brother fails. They were more concerned about

his education than the rest of us [girls]. The consequences are different: If a girl

fails she will stay home and wait to get married. . .If the girl repeats a year, also it

is not as a big deal as if the boy failed a year. At the end he will be responsible for

feeding his family.

Morooj continued that this should not imply, in any way, women’s inferiority and exclu-

sion from obtaining education or seeking public roles:

Arab Muslim Women in Canada 139

Personally, I believe that when a man secludes a woman and locks her up, he is

being selfish . . . because when a woman has education, it is not for the man’s

advantage . . . because then she will start asking, arguing, and discussing.

I asked Morooj, “Why do you think the double standards in men’s and women’s edu-

cation exist?” She asserted:

Islam, I do not think that it values men’s education more than women’s because

the more you are educated as a woman in all fields, religious knowledge or

science, the more you are protecting yourself from abuse and strengthening

your background. Does the religion differentiate between women’s education

and men’s education? Absolutely not, education is for both boys and girls

and there are no limits . . . I would think that some fields, women have to be cau-

tious in entering because she would be more vulnerable . . . As long as you are

strong and have morals, I believe that there is no one or anything, which is going

to stop you from what you want to achieve. The reason is, sometimes, women

are not as strong.

Ruba said, “I did not face the experiences that other women say they faced in that they

were treated differently than their brothers . . . I would hear stories like the girl would have

to do this and the boy would have to do this.” Ruba’s narratives noted that families focus

on girls’ educational progress, contributing to what I perceive as double standards of

viewing boy’s and girl’s education. Yet, Ruba’s statement “the boys can handle them-

selves,” emphasized such double standards which may be transferred to other matters.

She elaborated on girls’ safety versus boys’ safety:

. . . it’s a matter of being afraid for the safety of the girl and the perception of the

community and the culture to her . . . it’s not perceived proper conduct or beha-

vior when a girl just goes out at night.

Ruba continued, “For me, the way we were raised is everybody’s the same. Boys and girls

are the same.” Yet, equality between the sexes is another point of tension between Islamic

teaching and cultural traditions. Ruba made the distinction, “But I believe that Islam

gives us the same rights and duties in general. I believe I’m equal to a man because

this is what my faith tells me.”

In the workplace, women are faced with this patriarchy and sexism. It is a stereotypical

perception that a man is better at some jobs than a woman, that a woman is better than

a man in other jobs, or that a man is more intelligent than a woman; however, Morooj

disagreed with such views:

These are all wrong beliefs. First, intelligence is partly inherited but mostly

gained. So if a woman had an opportunity to learn whereas the man did not

have the opportunity to learn then the woman will be more intelligent than

the man. The belief that “women should be only educated to a certain age or

degree” is discriminatory . . . I believe that there are no limits for women’s edu-

cation in all fields and in any field. If a woman could obtain all the education she

wants then why not? Woman is the principle and the basis for her family . . . the

more she is educated, the broader her perspective is and the more she will

benefit her children. By raising a good generation of citizens or participating

in the workforce or both, thus, she is gratefully benefiting her society . . .

140 Amani Hamdan

Nahlaa related all the dominant traditional perceptions of women’s education to the

culture. This dichotomous thinking of man/woman, reason/emotion, and smart/less

smart should not be applied in today’s world, according to Nahlaa:

It’s actually cultural thoughts, women now should get educated so that they can

help themselves in the future . . . I don’t believe that boys are smarter or girls are

smarter. It doesn’t depend on being a female or male.

Ruba believes that men and women deserve to enjoy equality in pursuing education.

Parental financial support should depend on merit regardless of gender:

. . . when it comes to mental and intellectual growth, unless the girl is not really

into education or the guy is not really . . . then of course you put [support] the

money toward the one who is interested . . . Why should anybody be deprived of

an education?

Fadwa did not perceive that higher education was a luxury for women in Sudan:

Higher education in Sudan is very regarded; it’s been told to us that girls or boys

should go to university and get an education because you don’t want to live life

without an education. It’s just not an option. We all knew we were going to go to

university. The other thing is, my father tended to make the comparison

between educated people and influential people, so he would say to me as a

kid—I would be seven years old or eight years old—and he’d say, “Margaret

Thatcher, Fadwa? I want you to be like her. She is a powerful, strong

woman.” But at the same time, there are drawbacks to being very, very well-

educated as a woman, because as much as they want you to be educated and

have that status, when it comes to issues of getting married and playing a

certain gender role there were certain expectations . . .

I argue that Fadwa’s explanation of the importance of education to both sexes may

depend on her class status. Statistics with regard to education and gender in Sudan, for

instance, and Saudi Arabia show that there is some gender disparity. For example, the

‘Gender Parity Index’33 in 1999/2000 is 0.09 in Sudan. In Saudi Arabia it is 1.47 in

2002/2003.34 ‘Gross Enrollment Ratio’35 of tertiary education in Sudan 1999/2000 is

approximately 6 for male and 7 for female. In Saudi Arabia the ‘Gross Enrollment

Ratio’ in 2001/2002 is 18 for male, 25 for female, and in 2002/2003, 21 for male to

26 for female.36 In other words there is gender disparity between the number of

females and males in formal schooling in both Sudan and Saudi Arabia. The

UNESCO (United Nations Educational Scientific and Cultural Organization) report

indicates that “Saudi Arabia and Sudan are among the countries where the gender

parity has been achieved in access to secondary education, but these countries will face

a trend towards greater gender disparity.”37 I conclude that education still depends on

social class. Therefore, I agree that “class remains a relatively unspoken descriptor, com-

monly filtered through discourse of gender, race, and ethnicity.”38 Not only are class and

social status factors in women’s education, but also the father’s education is a major factor

in encouraging children to pursue education, more so than the mother’s education.

When revisiting Fadwa’s statement “There are drawbacks to being very, very well-

educated as a woman”, I asked, “How can education be disadvantageous?” Fadwa

replied, “Men tend to be threatened by it [woman’s higher education].” She continued

that some men favor less educated women. A good wife culturally, according to Fadwa,

would be the one who “cooks, cleans, raises the kids, and leaves [her] husband to do his

Arab Muslim Women in Canada 141

stuff; it’s not about your effort, it’s not about your thoughts or how you interact . . .” She

asserted, “The drawbacks of having this education for me is if I were to go back home

and marry someone who’s living back home, then it would be an issue.” Some married

men may feel threatened if they have motivated partners. This may disturb their pride

and may destroy family harmony. This certainly pinpoints the cultural emphasis on

men’s education, rather than satisfaction with any level of education a woman achieves.

Yet none of these women are content with the least; they are looking for the best.

While Arab mainstream cultural norms expect boys to go to college or university after

graduating from high school, it is culturally expected that girls get married right after

graduating or while still attending high school. Parents prefer that a girl obtain a

husband rather than an educational degree.39 This contradicts any attempt to generalize

from Fadwa’s claim that boys and girls are told that education and university is a must for

them. Many people in the Arab Muslim world subscribe to the view that the purpose of

women’s education is to produce good mothers and wives.

Many writings by traditionalist Muslim scholars, both religious and secular—and cer-

tainly the ones I was exposed to—affirm that only the roles of wife and mother provide a

woman’s true identity; all other aspects of a woman’s intellectual and social life are to be

directed toward these dual roles or are secondary to her true mission in life. Certain fea-

tures of women’s roles were emphasized and drawn to the public’s attention. These views

claim that “women are inferior, less intelligent, incapable of coping with high mental

tasks and thus the only tasks fit for women are bearing children and maintaining

homes.”40 This view is manifested through the low levels of woman’s education in

almost all Arab Muslim societies. I argue that this view negates the value of a wife and

a mother and also contradicts Islamic teaching with regard to education.41

Socialization and Gender Construction

The women interviewed are aware that gender is a socially constructed aspect of one’s

identity. Fadwa asserted:

Socialization is another thing. My mother made sure I knew how to do my own

laundry, how to cook, how to clean, and it was all about me knowing how to do

girls’ things by a certain age. And when I went to the village, [from] my aunts,

whether it be my father or mother’s side, a lot of the times I got the lecture of,

“you should be able to cook such and such, or clean such and such—you’re 8

and 9, and girls who are 5-and 6-year-olds in the village can do this already . . .”

Nora remembers how in her elementary school the differences in treatment between

boys and girls constructed some of her gender views:

. . . my girlfriend in elementary school was getting the highest marks, yet some of

the teachers used to give another boy in our class a little bit higher marks than

her so he would end up before her on the honor list. But my girlfriend used to

argue that a lot with the teachers . . . In Grade 6 she was at the top of the list in

the class and in the school list—far from the boy . . .

Wafaa perceived the need to treat boys and girls, especially with regard to education,

equally, stating that this is the Islamic tenet. Sahra also agreed, adding that, from an

Islamic point of view, women and men are equal: “They’re not the same, there are still

some differences: biological differences and psychological differences, but still they are

equal. They should have equal access to education and jobs . . .”

142 Amani Hamdan

Yet, for Fadwa, who had been to both the science and the arts faculties: “. . . Ratio wise

there are way more males to females in science . . . I had four professors who were women

out of all the years I had in science.” An interesting aspect of Fadwa’s observation is the

stereotypical images of female students enrolled in the science and arts faculties:

Well, science girls aren’t as pretty as social science girls because science girls are

the nerds . . . They’re the articulate ones. So articulate: smart girls aren’t usually

pretty. The girls that aren’t so smart are the pretty ones, which are the girls in

social science.

These kinds of stereotypes have a lot to do with culture. These stereotypes “created

invisible barriers raised by old norms against women’s pursuit of wholeness, of auton-

omy, and of authority,”42 discouraging girls from pursuing fields such as science.

Fadwa also talked about the differences between women’s and men’s abilities and the

cultural perception regarding the gendering of their roles:

. . . From a physiological and psychological perspective, it [the difference]

would logically make sense . . .because women are the ones that get pregnant

for nine months . . . that relationship with the baby that men never . . . have.

And they’re [women] physiologically prepared to be the nurturers. Part of

me would want to say, like I don’t see women as lumber jacks. They

wouldn’t be as good lumber jacks as men are at cutting wood. But, I have as

one of my earliest memories, my grandmother when I was six years old. I

would wake up to this drumming sound and it was my grandmother cutting

wood . . . There was no electricity in the village. So, my grandmother needed

the wood to [start] a fire to make breakfast . . .. So, I guess it might not make

sense that women would be better than men at other things . . . It’s just a socio-

logical construct . . . I seem to be a little ambivalent and I acknowledge that

because part of me wants to say yes we are different. The other part is the equal-

ity between men and women . . . If men can do it then we can do it too. So . . .

I’m a little in-between . . . They were created from the same (soul) or the same

spirit, so their origin is the same. Men wouldn’t be men and women wouldn’t be

women if they weren’t different. Then we would be all the same . . . I think our

biological differences might result in our societal differences. But intellectually I

. . . think the only reason that we are different . . . or believed to be different is

because society makes it to be so. I think intellectually we’re not different at

all. Maybe emotionally, of course again biological differences might result in

emotional differences . . . [men] don’t have estrogen; they have testosterone

and these hormones do relate to some, physical aspects and perhaps emotional

aspects. From a religious perspective, according to Islam, we’re going to be

judged equally, based on our individual action . . .

While Fadwa was talking, I did not interrupt her so that her analyses are reflected when

I re-narrate her perception. It is amazing how, as she was thinking aloud, she was trying

to analyze her thoughts, which point out contradictions between her reasoning and her

emotions. Fadwa wants to think that women and men are equal, a thought that was sup-

ported by her grandmother’s woodcutting and also by referencing the Quran’s teaching;

yet, she also kept convincing herself that women and men are different. Her statements

reproduce an acceptance of the inevitability of women’s inferiority. In admitting women’s

weakness, biologically and physically, she appears unable to contradict the cultural norm.

For her, the main reason for that difference between the sexes is biological. She knew it

Arab Muslim Women in Canada 143

was an ambivalent position, but was unable to solve it since society is widening the gap

and reinforcing it:

Society wise, though, men can get away with way more than women can. Men

can do things that if women do them, they would be inappropriate, like me

living here on my own without my family . . . A female living alone would be

considered morally [and] ethically impaired as opposed to a male who’s pursu-

ing what’s best for him so he can provide for his family . . . A girl? What is a girl

doing alone in North America? So, you see where the culture comes into play.

Yes, mentally we might be equal [and] actions might be the same but the way

society evaluates us is not the same . . . as the way (God) evaluates us . . . a

woman might have to adhere to society’s norms just to make sure that society

doesn’t outcast her, or ostracize her.

Fadwa is not only illustrating the double standards, but she is also pinpointing the

reason for that mentality, which is the female ‘honor.’ Fadwa’s comments, here, best

demonstrate the social construction of gender in Arab Muslim societies. The gap

between what a woman can do and what a man can do is profound. In Arab culture, if

a man decides to live on his own, there would be no concern about his desire to be inde-

pendent. A woman, on the other hand, cannot leave her parent’s home to live on her own

unless she is married, and if she divorces she will have to return to her parents’ home.

Thus, it is deeply imbedded in the minds of Arab Muslim people that a woman cannot

live alone, perhaps because she is thought to be more vulnerable, less capable, less com-

petent, and less moral, and therefore cannot conduct herself appropriately. I acknowledge

that this thinking might be similar, to a certain extent, in many parts of the world, but it

prevails profoundly today in the Arab Muslim Middle Eastern societies. These kinds of

restrictions on women can be detrimental to women’s education. Fadwa noted:

My understanding is through both my parents, through the way they’ve pro-

moted my education by telling me since I was very, very, very young that I

need to be independent. Even living here on my own is just a part of their exper-

iment for Fadwa to learn independence . . . It shows that, in theory my parents

want me to [be independent]. My parents believe that men and women are

intellectually equal. In practice, however, things might be a little different.

Maybe part of it is because of the higher rank that is given to men culturally

. . . so that if a man’s idea comes through and a woman’s idea is a little different

. . . the man’s idea will be the one to win.

Fadwa was brought up to be an independent thinker. She crafted her path coura-

geously and was able to ignore social norms. She is able to make decisions whether it

be choosing teaching as a profession or living in Canada alone. Her comments draw

attention to many interesting points where cultural traditions, religious viewpoints,

and practices intersect, especially those related to gender discourses. Culturally

embedded gender patriarchy and hierarchy have not supported Fadwa’s independence.

Marriage and Views on Women’s Education

Morooj discussed how society and some men are threatened by highly educated women:

. . . My eldest daughter broke up with her fiancee who did not want her to be at

the same level as he is. He even told her “you are very motivated and I will be

144 Amani Hamdan

tired with you.” She said to him “my education is highly important.” The thing

is that he is a highly educated man and went to school here . . .

Although Morooj’s daughter’s ex-fiancee was educated in the West, he still holds this

backward perspective about woman’s education. Male chauvinism is embedded,

although covertly, in the West as well in the East.

Further, Morooj narrated:

I think it goes back to his upbringing . . . if a man was brought up believing that a

woman should be at a lower level than her husband and he fears motivated

woman, then he would not accept it . . . Some men cannot and don’t like to

have women around them that are at the same level, whether it be at work or

at home . . . A motivated woman will always look at the better and best . . .

This is why I told my daughter “this is your chance to do your PhD,” and

she felt that he would not stand beside her. She left him . . .

Some Arab Middle Eastern men are socialized to think of themselves as having a

higher level in the marriage whether by having higher income or more education. Also

Morooj reflected, “Society wants the man to be better not the woman . . . and even if

she is better she does not say and hides it to protect the man’s ego in society . . .

because then problems exist . . .”

In a slightly different direction, Ruba noted that a university education would influence

a woman’s choice of partner:

Also when you are educated, you start seeing things differently, start thinking

differently . . . Yet, sometimes people will tell you, “the more a woman

becomes educated, the more stubborn she gets, the more problems she finds

in every man that comes and asks for her hand in marriage.”

Fadwa explained, “People who have not been exposed to different, multiple models of

reality will have difficulty appreciating an educated woman’s point of view . . . And I’ve

seen that even within our family . . .” Fadwa sighed and related this story about one of

her friends:

The most academic girl I’ve met. Got some of the highest marks in engineering

. . . Half-way through her medical school application . . . she had gotten a pro-

posal from a gentlemen and her father said, “What do you think of this

man?” She’s like, “He’s ok, I’ll think about it.” Before she knew it, her contract

was ready and she was married to this guy. . . it’s not the marriage she would

have chosen for herself. This brought me to a point of understanding that

women, depending on their context, they have very little room for negotiation

. . . It doesn’t really depend on how educated we are, depends on whether we’re

going to be given the freedom by our parents, our family, our culture to

make that choice. Our education can only take us so far, but because we live

in a collective society . . . Maybe not Muslim, I don’t know if it’s just Muslim

women, it’s probably Middle Eastern Arabic women’s, our choices are

limited . . .

Fadwa highlights how a woman may influence maintaining some cultural traditional

boundaries. Even after reaching a high level of education a woman can be self-doubting,

which is apparent in Fadwa’s statement: “Our education can only take us so far . . . We

have very little room for negotiation.” Is Fadwa realistic? Or is she pessimistic? Is that

Arab Muslim Women in Canada 145

reflective of gender discourses that persistently reinforce patriarchy through various

contexts (i.e. culturally and socially)? Many women are subject to the gender discourses

in multitudinous and indirect ways.

Today, women’s education, according to Fadwa, is an economic necessity. Yet, I add

that women’s education and economic stability would lead to women’s independence

which also results in her ability to control and maintain power. I then asked Fadwa to

clarify whether she saw the purpose of a woman obtaining an education only as economic

sustainability: “That’s what culture teaches us . . . My father needed to know what my

profession was and he was very uncomfortable with me doing a double major . . . He

wanted me to be able to [have] a specialized trade . . .” Both Fadwa and her parents

expected that she would pursue education to secure her life financially. Another

reason for her to obtain a Master’s degree was for self actualization.

Through their education, Fadwa and the other women in this study managed to move

beyond the goal ascribed to them by cultural traditions. Although there is a tone of self-

limitation echoed in Fadwa’s examples, the way she is analyzing her life experiences and

her accomplishments here resonate sophistication in renouncing the traditional role of

woman—of submissiveness and silence. Wafaa, Nahlaa, and others indicated that

culture is not static; therefore, like Morooj, a woman is able to construct new models

of realities unlike those imposed, subtly and effectively, by cultural traditions. All the

women indicated that their Islamic faith has great importance in their lives, in modeling

their gender perceptions and their roles as women. It is noticeable that Arab Muslim

women living in Canada strongly bond with their faith despite their attitude towards cul-

tural traditions that prescribe women’s inferiority.

Women’s Gender Perceptions and Educational Experiences in Canada

Currently, a graduate student, Fadwa also earned her Bachelor of Science degree and a

teaching certificate in Canada, and narrated her educational experiences in that country.

She was socialized by her father, not by her mother and society, to believe that critical

thinking is important, valid, and to be rewarded:

Looking back at it as a teenager living in Canada, I realized that when I was in

Sudan, I was always reproached or scolded for being too philosophical,

meaning questioning authority . . . meaning: “why do you need to ask that

question? It’s just something that you should obey.” And that’s why someone

who does her Master’s degree or a PhD degree, depending on where

she does it, or how she goes about it, might find difficulty in my native

society . . .

Fadwa’s education in Canada encouraged her curiosity and critical thinking. On the

other hand, Yasmine spoke of the difficulties of being a student in Canada. She reflected

on her educational experience while training in Canadian medical school. She explained

what it was like getting ready to attend the Operating Room:

It was hard for me . . . scrubbing and rolling up my sleeves and exposing my

body in front of everyone was not something I would like to do . . . so I

would wait till everyone left the room and then I would do the scrubbing. At

first they thought that I was nervous but . . . I explained to them.

In retrospect Yasmine remembers that it was also hard when she was residence training

in Iraq:

146 Amani Hamdan

Yasmine: I remember that it was hard also in Baghdad. I remember a professor in

the final exam used to pick the women with the hijab to ask them to do

a hernia checkup in front of 30 people. That was really mean of him.

Author: You don’t have to take it this way. Maybe that was an important part of

your training as a doctor . . .

Yasmine: I agree with you, but if he is picking those with the scarf and asking them

to do that specifically, then yes, this is being mean. Thank god, my patient

was an eight-year-old boy.

Yasmine noted that her family’s support enabled her to overcome many barriers:

“Thanks to my family’s encouragement: my husband, my parents, and even my eldest

daughter. I remember her saying to me once, ‘Mama, it is time to go back to medicine’.”

Another aspect of Yasmine’s difficulties has to do with her conservative views of interact-

ing with men which is part of the educational experience in Canada.

Nora’s challenges for being a student in Canada were different:

I had some difficulties particularly for being a Muslim woman pursuing science.

Although the first two years for me were smooth and productive, I started

feeling an unexplainable discouragement from my supervisor (who is a male).

But then I have some male colleagues and there is no preferential treatment

. . . in fact I feel that a lot of people admire me for what I am doing. I am the

first Muslim woman in the faculty . . . another female professor (one in particu-

lar) had helped and supported me . . . She made me realize how the desk

arrangement in the first lab I worked in (with the male supervisor) was hierar-

chal . . . For instance, the women’s desks were left in a small space at the back

end of the lab’s corner . . . Now all my committee members are women and my

supervisor in fact took me as a challenge to prove that women are capable and

that women will support each other’s causes.

Wafaa benefited academically from being in Canada. Canadian education helped

increase her confidence in herself and in her abilities. “My education in Canada made

me a different person . . . when I came here I knew very little . . . I was confused with

the ‘add and drop’ system and I did not know where I was going.” For Wafaa, it was a

difficult task to adjust to university life in Canada. The system and the language were

all new to her. Everything was hard for her, including course registrations. Yet Wafaa

felt she benefited greatly from the education system and also from knowing other Arab

Muslim women. She said:

I’ve always thought a Muslim girl is shy. This is what we were taught there . . . I

was very shy and not good at public speaking. I did my first presentation here . . .

I almost cried. I’m not used to that. They told me you have to give a speech

about [a topic] and when I was speaking I didn’t look at anyone. I just put

my head to the paper and I read it off . . . I got a good mark on the information

I provided, but I got 0 marks for eye contact! . . . it helped me a lot knowing Arab

Muslim women on campus and in the prayer room because after seeing what

they can do, it kind of encouraged me to become like them. I will never

reach their level of courage, but I was able to do a presentation by my second

year . . . And with that presentation I had some eye contact and by my fourth

year I was outspoken, I would say anything . . . I opposed if I didn’t agree

Arab Muslim Women in Canada 147

with something and I would argue, and I would participate in class without any

fear.

Wafaa needed to see role models of outspoken Muslim women to be encouraged to do

so herself. It was not enough for Wafaa to be inspired by Muslim women in early days of

Islam as role models. Her real motivation was a combination that stemmed from the edu-

cation that encouraged her to speak up and meet assertive Muslim women of the same

generation.

Sahra resisted the stereotypes of Middle Eastern Muslim women by proving her capa-

bility as an engineer. She disavows the prescribed image in both the worlds, East and

West.

Well, when I think of my experience here and there it is almost the same . . . if I

talk about old-fashioned people [in terms of their views of women’s roles] in

Cairo, I . . . find some old-fashioned people here . . . People everywhere

[meaning East and West] stereotype Muslim women . . . they think: “what is

she doing in a faculty of engineering?”. . . and I have to deal with it . . . I have

to prove myself . . .

Eman confirmed that even though there are many slogans about equality, the slogans

vanish in practice: “. . . in most societies I have lived in, from the outside you can see that

they’re equal, but when you really look into certain issues . . . a woman is not considered

equal.” When I asked Ruba about equality, she laughingly narrated her memories of an

engineering professor:

. . . he made a comment in the class while he was talking about his education in

England in Oxford University. He proudly said “back in the good old days

before females were allowed in engineering . . .” And I thought that remark

was kind of weird . . . we were only two girls, me and another one. He said it

in a very subtle way . . . I was so surprised that he made that kind of remark

or comment . . . This is a professor who is white, middle class with jeans and

long hair . . ., so he’s supposed to be the hip and cool guy, but still his mentality

was a little bit different . . . Another incident was in the engineering lab while I

was assisting a male instructor . . . he was uncomfortable answering my [casual]

question . . . I realized that he was avoiding eye to eye contact . . . later he told me

that he thinks that women hinder the progress of things . . . he thinks they’re a

distraction . . . These two incidents did not bother me. It surprised me, and

actually I expected it . . . There are a lot of free sentiments about equality out

there, but I don’t think a lot of people believe [in] it . . . But there was always

a push to get more females into engineering . . . which I found very strange . . .

Although Ruba was among few girls in the faculty of engineering, she said that

encouraging women to enter engineering is “strange.” She said that two to three girls

utmost were enrolled in engineering in the late eighties in Canada. Ruba draws an

analogy with the faculty of engineering in Jordan, where she was enrolled first. She

affirmed, “In Canada the majority of the class is men, unlike in Jordan . . . you could actu-

ally see that the class was split between girls and boys in engineering school.” I revisited

Ruba’s thought that persuading girls to enter engineering is ‘strange.’ She narrated:

It was a big university event at the engineering school, an all-day professional

day for girls, where girls visit from high school and inquire about engineering

and women’s position in engineering . . . I remember that I participated and

148 Amani Hamdan

just to be honest and truthful, not for the cause of women because I’m not like

that. I’m not trying to raise awareness of women’s issues or anything like that.

I’m absolutely actually not interested in that, but to me it was an extra curricu-

lar activity and I needed it as a credit.

She persisted, “It’s very sad when we get into this competition of trying to actually do

everything because men do it. . . . If you want to explore something, try it, but don’t do it

just for the sake that men are doing it.” I examine why Ruba, and many other women—

Eastern and Western—do not perceive that there are women’s issues, or they overlook

the need to support women’s causes. Is Ruba denying something about her life? Is she over-

looking her femaleness? Or is she discounting the fact that she is an engineer now as a con-

sequence of other women’s struggle, mostly Western and Eastern women who created the

feminist movement early in the West and the East? Another possibility is that Ruba and

other women, who disclaim the existence of women’s issues, are relieving themselves

from the responsibility towards other women. I contend that by taking this approach

Ruba and other women who oppose women’s issues are limiting their options and narrow-

ing their worldview.

I asked Sahra if she personally ever felt that engineering is a man’s field. She replied

adamantly:

No, no, absolutely not. I worked in civil engineering for three or four years in

Egypt, and one year I was my husband’s supervisor [laughs], kind of or at

least my job was to make sure that he’s doing his job correct . . . In the same

year I graduated, it was a female who got the top highest mark . . . eventually,

she got the department support and they took her as a part time faculty

member . . .

Referring to equality between the sexes in terms of gender roles, Ruba asserted, “to start

with women and men are different: I don’t think we’re physically compatible . . . Men are

physically different . . . Emotionally we are different . . . Men can do things better than

women and women can do things better than men.” However, she emphasized that,

through her personal experiences, interaction with intelligent men in the family and in the

work place, they were unlike her encounters with women who, according to Ruba, tend to

be emotional and manipulative. She also concluded, “Men have proven to be wiser

because they tend to be calm and not emotional when they are trying to reason with things.”

What is special for Morooj is that her educational experience in Canada offered what

was not feasible for someone her age in Libya:

What I appreciated the most is the fact that there is no limit on the student’s

age. In Libya43 whenever you graduate from high school or university and

work . . . it is extremely hard to go back to school.

Also Fadwa’s educational experiences here empowered her. She pointed out that being

able to give back to the school and being an active member in the school culture built her

confidence and gave her insight into what she wanted to do in the future:

What I love about Canadian schools is the ability to be socially active. In high

school, I learned about all the associations that I could participate in. I could

stay after school [for extra curricular activities]. There was leadership . . . a

choir, I was a peer mediator, I was a teacher assistant . . . it is giving back to

the school. Also in Canada, volunteering is a big theme, and being able to

Arab Muslim Women in Canada 149

participate at the organizational level, not only be at the receiving end, was a

very empowering feeling as a student.

This freedom of choice can be difficult to handle sometimes, according to Fadwa. She

remembers there were issues that she faced as a student. What was most difficult for

her was choosing what she wanted to specialize in, and choosing a profession: “choosing

the final career was a little hard.”

The findings from these narratives suggest that Arab Muslim women remained com-

mitted to their faith that supports women’s education. According to the study partici-

pants, there are many ways in which Canadian education represents a great

opportunity for them. One of these factors is the absence of age limit on attending

schools, as in Morooj’s case, which allowed her to complete her education. These narra-

tives explore how women perceived the impact of their educational experience in Canada

and the way it impacts their perception of themselves as women.

Analysis

This paper has explored some of the factors influencing Arab Muslim Canadian women’s

gender perceptions. Cultural tradition has its own set of important delineations. The

overall findings suggest how important Islam is for the Arab Muslim women interviewed

in this research in shaping their gender perceptions and worldviews. The Arab Muslim

women’s faith had an overriding importance in their lives, in particular in forming

their gender perceptions.

I have focused on three significant and constant premises throughout the narratives:

– the connection made to the Islamic teaching about women as “the auth-

entic” source of guidance in Arab Muslim lives and more specifically to

their gender perceptions;

– the cultural construction of what it means to be a woman; and

– the way Arab Muslim women value their education and are enabled to nego-

tiate gender discourses as a result of their education.

Despite detesting many aspects of Arab cultural tradition, especially those aspects that

emphasize male superiority, the Arab Muslim women with commitment to their faith

were able to differentiate Islamic tenets from cultural values. For instance, Fadwa’s,

Eman’s, Ruba’s, and the other women’s mini-stories weave together complex and contra-

dictory meanings that have demonstrated some aspects of girls’ and women’s socializa-

tion processes at home, at school, and in society. Yet, the way Arab Muslim women

construct their gender roles now is a product of both their previous experiences in

their countries of origin as well as in Canada.

The powerful narratives of Arab Muslim women presented in this research articulate their

faithand “grapplewith the complexityofclaimingMuslimidentities indifferentcontexts,”44

contributing a meaningful and relevant context to this research. They have successfully

“enacted resistance to dominant modes of thoughts,”45 and because of their education

they were able both to engage in the “Islam and women” debate, and to benefit from it.

Like Mukudi,46 I feel that the ArabMuslim women interviewed “do not visualize themselves

challenging their culturally defined positions. Instead, they seek opportunities that would

make their experiences better ones through education.”47 The participants, who lived

their lives in Arab Muslim societies in a particular sociohistorical context and then moved

to Canada, have powerfully “exercised their agency in crafting their gender identity.”48

150 Amani Hamdan

Arab Muslim women continuously questioned cultural tendencies that valued male’s

education. Although the women interviewed were not conforming to the cultural ideal,

some of their views were persistently conforming to cultural traditions gender ideologies

in their homes. Thus, some were unwilling to contest or cross gender boundaries in their

homes, perhaps because it gives them a sense of cultural belonging.

The Arab Muslim world is an area of considerable diversity in terms of geography,

economic base, and social class. One of the challenges I faced in my research was to

stress both cultural context and cultural specificity when talking about gender discourse

in Arab Muslim societies:

It is clear that women do not represent a homogeneous social category in the

Middle East. They are differentiated by region, class, and education; educated

women are further divided politically and ideologically. Yet the available evi-

dence shows that socioeconomic development and increasing rates of female

education and employment have affected the structure and size of the family,

as well as women’s gender consciousness.”49

Conclusion

This paper makes a concerted attempt to explore the factors influencing Arab Muslim

women’s gender perceptions; their negotiation of gender construction discovered empiri-

cally through narrative inquiry and open-ended questions. The findings from this paper

affirm the need to further explore Arab Muslim Canadian women’s perceived realities.

Some research interest in Arab Muslims in Canada has started to materialize in the

past few years. Nevertheless, there is still more research needed as Arab Muslim

women continue to be marginalized. Not only are Arab Muslim women’s gender percep-

tions yet to be charted further, but also why Muslim women are experiencing the nega-

tive impact of their adopted society’s response to Islamic extremism. “Religion impacts

the lives of Muslims in distinct ways, and often there are added pressures on Muslim

women unbeknown to others.”50 For Muslim women in Canada, it is the perception

that Islamic doctrine limits women’s opportunities and devalues their education, yet as

Muslim women argue, Islamic teachings addressed to women reveal an expectation for

a high level of Muslim women’s educational achievements.

This paper attempts to contribute to ongoing discussion around Muslim women, their

education, and gender roles and perceptions. Also the findings of this study contribute to

this growing area of research that aims to explore some key factors in Arab Muslim

women’s gender perceptions and the factors influencing their identity constructions.

However, further research is needed in this area particularly because, “. . .Women have

been specifically impacted by virtue of their locations in various classes, nationalities,

ethnicities and races.”51 Greater understanding is vital because Muslim women’s lives

are highly diverse according to their “country of origin, rural/urban background of

households prior to migration, regional and linguistic background in the subcontinent,

[and] class position in the subcontinent . . .”52

NOTES

1. “‘Arab’ in this study refers to individuals who trace their ancestry to the Arabic speaking countries of

the Arabian Peninsula, the Eastern Mediterranean, and North Africa. The development of ‘Arab civi-

lization’ is usually understood in the context of the medieval Arab-Muslim Empire. The boundaries

of the ‘Arab world’ are hotly contested (e.g. between northern and southern Sudan), as is the position

Arab Muslim Women in Canada 151

of minorities within those boundaries (e.g. in the case of Kurds, Christians, Copts, and Berbers).

Those considered ‘Arabs’ have different ideas about what constitutes Arabness and who counts as

Arab. So while I define Arabs as my study population, I do not assume that an essential or

uniform Arab ethnicity exists” (as cited in Caroline Nagel, “Constructing Difference and Sameness:

The Ppolitics of Assimilation in London’s Arab Communities,” Ethnic and Racial Studies, Vol. 25, No.

2, 2002, p. 271.

2. See S. Khan, Aversion and Desire NegotiatingMuslim Female Identity in the Diaspora, Toronto: Women’s

Press, 2002; L. Sarroub, All American Yemeni Girls: Being a Muslim in Public Schools, Philadelphia, PA:

University of Pennsylvania Press, 2005; J. Zine, “Staying on the ‘Straight Path’: A Critical Ethno-

graphy of Islamic Schooling in Ontario,” Unpublished PhD dissertation, University of Toronto,

Toronto, 2003.

3. A. Bardach, “Tearing off the Veil,” Vanity Fair, February 1993, pp. 122–158; B. Lewis, The Shaping of

the Modern Middle East, New York: Oxford University Press, 1994; J. Mabro, Veiled Half-Truths:

Western Traveler’s Perceptions of Middle Eastern Women, London: I. B. Tauris & Co., Ltd, 1991.

4. This term has been used to identify women in the West with origins in the geopolitical definition of the

so-called “Third World.” See C. Cayer, “Hijab, Narrative and Production of Gender among Second

Generation, Indo-Pakistani, Muslim Women in Greater Toronto,” unpublished MA thesis, York

University, Toronto, 1996; C. Mohanty, “Cartographies of Struggle: Third World Women and the

Politics of Feminism,” in C. Mohanty, A. Russo and L. Torres, eds, Third World Women and the Politics

of Feminism, Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1991, p. 176. “Third World Women” and

“Third World” are used in contrast and to contest the term “Western” women and feminists

(Mohanty, “Cartographies of Struggle”, op. cit.). The term is open to contestation; however, the

scope of this paper does not permit that.

5. See J. Gaskell and A. McLaren, eds, Women and Education, 2nd edn, Calgary, Alberta: Detselig

Enterprises Limited, 1991; D. Smith, “Women’s Perspective as a Radical Critique of

Sociology,” in S. Harding, ed., Feminism and Methodology, Bloomington, IN: Indiana University

Press, 1987; L. Smith, Decolonizing Methodologies Research and Indigenous Peoples, London: Zed

Books, 1999.

6. J. Shaw, Education, Gender and Anxiety, London: Taylor and Francis, 1995, p. 4.

7. See M. Arnot, Reproducing Gender: Selective Critical Essays on Educational Theory and Feminist Politics,

London: Routledge Falmer, 2002.

8. S. Khan, Aversion and Desire, op. cit., p. 1.

9. Sect of Muslims similar, to a degree, to Shii Muslims.

10. T. Damji and C. M. Lee, “Gender Role Identity and Perceptions of Ismaili Muslim Men and

Women,” Journal of Social Psychology, Vol. 135, 1995, pp. 215–223, p. 34.

11. Ibid., pp. 215–223.

12. P. Schvaneveldt, J. Kerpelman and J. Schvaneveldt, “Generational and Cultural Changes in Family

Life in the United Arab Emirates: A Comparison of Mothers and Daughters,” Journal of Comparative

Family Studies, Vol. 36, No. 1, 2005, pp. 77–91, p. 79.

13. J. Zine, “Staying on the Straight Path”, op. cit., p. i.

14. Ibid., p. 448.

15. See B. Mensch, B. Ibrahim, S. Lee and O. El-Gibaly, “Socialization to Gender Roles and Marriage

Among Egyptian Adolescents,” Paper presented at the Annual Meeting for the Population Associ-

ation of America, Los Angeles, CA, 2000.

16. Ibid., p. 10.

17. Ibid., p. 30.

18. C. Cayer, “Hijab, Narrative and Production of Gender,” op. cit., p. 4.

19. T. De Lauretis, “Eurocentric Subjects: Feminist Theory and Historical Consciousness,” Feminist

Studies, Vol. 16, No. 1, 1990, pp. 115–150, p. 133.

20. L. Cohen and L. Manion, Research Methods in Education, New York: Routledge, 1994, p. 287.

21. See I. E. Seidman, Interviewing as a Qualitative Research: A Guide for Researchers in Education and the

Social Sciences, New York and London: Teachers College Press, 1991; M. Stein, S. Paterno and

S. Paterno, Talk Straight, Listen Carefully: The Art of Interviewing, New York: Blackwell Publishing,

2001.

22. N. Denzin, The Research Act: A Theoretical Introduction to Sociological Methods, 2nd edn, New York:

McGraw-Hill, 1978, p. 10.

23. M. Q. Patton, Qualitative Research and Evaluation Methods, Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications,

2002.

152 Amani Hamdan

24. G. Shank, Qualitative Research: A Personal Skills Approach, Upper Saddle River, New Jersey: Merrill/Prentice Hall, 2002.

25. The first wave of Muslims began immigrating to Canada in the early part of the 20th century, and

they continued to immigrate during World War II. Yet, numbers were small, and most came from

Lebanon, Syria, Palestine, Jordan, and Turkey (See B. Abu-Laban, An Olive Branch on the Family

Tree: The Arabs in Canada, Toronto: McClelland and Stewart Ltd, in association with the Multi-

culturalism Directorate, Dept of the Secretary of State and the Canadian Government Publishing

Centre, Supply and Services Canada, 1980; S. Abu-Laban and S. McIrvin, “Family and Religion

among Muslim Immigrants and their Decedents,” in E. Waugh, S. McIrvin, S. Abu-Laban and

B. Qureshi, eds, Muslim Families in North America, Edmonton: University of Alberta Press, 1991).

The second wave of Muslim immigrants came as a result of political strife and upheaval in their

native countries after World War II and continued until 1967. They were mostly from Lebanon,

Syria, Palestine, Jordan, and Iraq, the remainder coming from India and Pakistan (see Y. Haddad,

“Muslims in Canada: a Preliminary Study”, in H. Coward and L. Kawamura, eds, Religion and Eth-

nicity: Essays, Waterloo, Ontario: Calgary Institute for the Humanities by Wilfred Laurier University

Press, 1978). Most of these early immigrants settled in Ontario. In fact, Ontario has the largest

Muslim population of all ten Canadian provinces.

The immigration dynamics and Canada’s immigration policies during these periods are worth

noting for this study. During the second wave of immigration, which took place between 1950 and

1967, the immigration policy was based on the quota system which encouraged immigrants from

upper-middle class with professional backgrounds such as lawyers, doctors, and skilled technicians

(see S. Awan, People of the Indus Valley: Pakistani-Canadians, Sadiq Noor Alan Awan, 1989;

S. Azmi, “Muslim Educational Institutions in Toronto, Canada,” Journal of Muslim Minority

Affairs, Vol. 21, No. 2, October 2001, pp. 259–272). The Canadian immigration policies were

not only based on the quota system, but also on how closely the prospective immigrants ranked

in racial, cultural, and linguistic similarities to the British Protestant ideal (see Y. Haddad,

“Muslims in Canada,” op. cit.; D. Hamdani, The Muslims of America, Oxford: Oxford University

Press, 1991).

Two points warrant some emphasis. One is that up until the second wave, most Muslim immigrants

were predominantly Arabs from Lebanon, Syria, Palestine, and Jordan who could “pass” because of

their light skin as members of other Mediterranean groups such as Italian and Greek. The second

point is the socioeconomic status of those early Arab immigrants who came from upper-middle class

with professional backgrounds. The third wave of Muslim immigrants arrived after 1967, following

the replacement of the “quota system” with the “points system.” With the point system, fewer points

were necessary to be accepted as an immigrant (see B. Abu-Laban, An Olive Branch on the Family

Tree, op. cit.).

26. M. Nimer, The North AmericanMuslim Resource Guide: Muslim Community Life in the United States and

Canada, New York: Routledge, 2002, p. 21.

27. A prayer held every Friday afternoon.

28. This is a pseudonym.

29. All the women who participated in the study were Sunni Muslims. Sunni and Shii are two major

branches of Islam. The majority of Muslims practice Sunni Islam (see J. Esposito, Islam: The Straight

Path, New York: Oxford University Press, 1988).

30. M. Bateson, Composing a Life, New York: Atlantic Monthly Press, 1990.

31. All names here are pseudonyms.

32. The age given is as of the date the interview was conducted.

33. It refers to the ratio of female to male values of a given indicator.

34. See UNESCO Institute for Statistics (Gross enrolment ratio in tertiary education—definition, Gender

parity index—definition, Gross Enrolment Ratios tertiary education, world all countries), 2005,

Montreal, Canada, available online at: <http://www.uis.unesco.org/ev_en.php?ID¼2867_201&-

ID2¼DO_TOPIC>.

35. Show the general level of participation in a given level of education.

36. See UNESCO Institute for Statistics, op. cit.

37. Ibid., p. 28.

38. A. Proweller, Constructing Female Identities: Meaning Making in an Upper Middle Class Youth Culture,

New York: State University of New York Press, 1998, p. 69.

39. See S. Al Sari, “Tholth Nesaa Alsoaodea Awanes le Anhon Gamaeat” [One-third of Saudi women are

single because they chose a university degree], available online at: <http://www.elaph.com>

Arab Muslim Women in Canada 153

(accessed 11 November 2003); N. El Saadawi, Walking Through Fire: A Life of Nawal El Saadawi,

London: Zed Books Ltd, 2002.

40. A. Al-Manea, “Historical and contemporary policies of women’s education in Saudi Arabia,” unpub-

lished PhD dissertation, University of Michigan, 1984, p. 28.

41. The Quran and Hadith had emphasized in many verses that knowledge is a must for all Muslims—

men and women.

42. N. Aisenberg and M. Harrington, Women of Academe: Outsiders in the Sacred Grove, Amherst, MA:

University of Massachusetts Press, 1988, p. 142.

43. In most Arab Muslim countries, whenever a student graduates from high school or university and

works for a while, it will be hard for him/her to be accepted into education programs. Priority is

given to new graduates.

44. L. Chaudhry, “Researching ‘My People,’ Researching Myself: Fragments of Reflexive Tale,”

Qualitative Studies in Education, Vol. 10, No. 4, 1997, pp. 441–453, 444.

45. Ibid., p. 443.

46. See E. Mukudi, “Gender and education in Africa” (Review Essay), Comparative Education Review,

Vol. 46, No. 2, 2002, pp. 234–241.

47. Ibid., p. 239.

48. J. Read and J. Bartkowski, “To Veil or Not to Veil? A Case Study of Identity Negotiation among

Muslim Women in Austin, Texas,” Gender and Society, Vol. 14, No. 3, 2000, pp. 395–417, p. 114.

49. V. Moghadam, “Patriarchy in Transition: Women and the Changing Family in the Middle East,”

Journal of Comparative Family Studies, Vol. 35, No. 2, 2004, pp. 137, 157.

50. T. Abbas, “The Impact of Religio-cultural Norms and Values on the Education of Young South Asian

Women,” British Journal of Sociology of Education, Vol. 24, 2003, pp. 412–428, 424.

51. N. Hirschmann, “Western Feminism, Eastern Veiling, and the Question of Free Agency,”

Constellations, Vol. 5, No. 3, 1998, pp. 345–368, 347.

52. A. Rattansi and A. Phoenix, “Rethinking Youth Identities: Modernist and Postmodernist Frame-

works,” Identity: An International Journal of Theory and Research, Vol. 5, No. 2, 2005, pp. 97–123, 109.

154 Amani Hamdan