Islamic Sisterhood challenges stereotypes
by Marc Ramirez
Seattle Times staff reporter
Amira Atan came to the U.S. in 1978 from Vietnam, where her family had fled from Cambodia. These days, her harrowing past is belied by a direct, self-deprecating manner. She says: "People ask me, 'Are you the boat people?' I say, 'I don't know! I took Northwest Airlines here!' "
Now an interpreter for King County courts, Atan is co-president of Seattle Islamic Sisterhood, or SIS. The women's social group, while considered mainstream, doesn't always please the most conservative members of the community. The recently revived group was originally co-founded in the mid-1970s by Tayyibah Taylor.
"The intent (was) to reflect the Muslim woman and the wide spectrum that exists," says Taylor, now administrator of the Islamic School of Seattle. "It's not the Muslim woman covered in black and following 10 steps behind her husband."
In their own way, SIS members are breaking stereotypes. The group meets monthly in the Central Area, with no membership restrictions. "We don't judge by scarf or veil," Atan says. "If their hearts say they're Muslim they can belong."
Most of the dozen or so at a recent meeting wore colorful, patterned hijabs - including Atan, who admits she isn't quite ready to wear one in non-Muslim settings. They were students, mothers and government employees.
They wondered how they could help a member in the hospital; they celebrated the success of their Islamic fahion show featuring conservative, loose-fitting styles. One member briefed the group on an upcoming fund-raiser.
In Islam, men and women have complementary roles, though some might question whether the roles are equal. As it is, they are often separate: During mosque prayers, for example, women might pray in the back or in another room entirely. The idea is to promote respect. "When we're praying, it's not supposed to be, `Oh - she's hot,' " explains Beth Mahmoud-Howell, who leads a Koran study group.
SIS members get testy when separate becomes unequal - for instance, when women aren't allowed to enter the mosque through the front door, or when their prayer room isn't air-conditioned.
Islam allows men to take more than one wife but only if they can provide for each, financially and emotionally. And provide they must: In order to encourage family obligations, Muslim women are not required to work, and any income they earn is theirs alone, with family support fully the man's responsibility. However, polygamy is rarely exercised in the United States because it is illegal. And it's hard to imagine some SIS members agreeing to either be or allow second wives.
In Islam, divorce is frowned upon, and some women don't seek help, even in cases of domestic abuse, because of the stigma. SIS members provide education as well as emotional support to women unaware not only of their civil rights but of their religious ones.
"Even American convert sisters think they have to do what their husbands say," says one SIS member who goes by the single name Destiny. "I tell them to read the Koran."
Such notions don't always sit well with old-school adherents. "One woman said to me, `SIS (is) only good for one thing - that's breaking up marriages,' " says Atan, herself a 40-year-old divorcee.
But, she points out, "There's nothing in the Koran that says: `Obey.' "
Nor does the Koran specify the wearing of the scarves or veils so commonly associated with Islam. Those are cultural responses to the Koran's call for modesty.
Says Atan: "Some people wear clothes so loose you can't see their shape at all. Some wear socks to cover their ankles. With some, all you can see is their . . . eyes. I dress modestly. The only thing missing is my scarf. I say being a Muslim is more than wearing a scarf."