Competitive, Too: Modestly dressed Muslim women make up the Carolina Cyclones
Charlotte, Carolina, June 8, 2008 -- This is a story about Muslim women - a completely happy story.
Except for when they lost the big game.
"All right, let's play," said Hebah Sadek, the coach of the Carolina Cyclones, at the start of a recent Wednesday night practice at the Islamic Society of Greater Charlotte. That weekend, the Cyclones - 10 young women of shared faith, but not much athletics experience - would pile into a van bound for Tampa, Florida, to play in a national youth tournament sponsored by the Muslim American Society.
When crunch time came, Sadek and her fellow players were focused, even intense, but always considerate.
"My bad - sorry," muttered Sophie Brelvi, when a bounce pass missed its target wide. "Nice," she said a moment later, when teammate Sadek retrieved the stray ball, faked left, drove around a defender and scored an easy two. They exchanged a soft high-five.
There was also some joking, as when Ruhi Brelvi, Sophie's older sister, acknowledged the presence of a newspaper photographer just out of bounds: "OK, you guys, there will be no shirt-lifting tonight."
In line with their religious observance, the Cyclones play in hijab, the head covering traditionally worn by Muslim girls who have reached adolescence. Their practice togs: long-sleeve T-shirts over track pants or sweats. Never shorts. Their homemade uniform jerseys for the tournament are similarly modest.
Their drills are accompanied at regular intervals by an imam's voice over the gym's loudspeaker, chanting brief, melodic prayers in Arabic. No men are present; again, in accordance with certain tenets of Islam, even teammates' male relatives are unwelcome while the Cyclones do their thing on the court. (The tournament in Tampa was played in gyms segregated by gender).
Otherwise, as the women's workout stretched into the night, this recreational team looked, sounded and sweated like any other.
"There's a whirlpool in the hotel," Ruhi Brelvi said during a breather, as talk turned to the coming trip. The women raised the tournament money themselves. They recruited a uniform sponsor: Halal International, a grocery store owned by the father of teammates Kawthar and Sumaya Suleiman. They put together a detailed travel itinerary, with help from the Internet, and stocked up on snacks for the road.
At 21, Hebah Sadek is the team's oldest member; her sister, 16-year-old Hala, is the youngest. The team members live in different parts of the Charlotte area, attend different mosques, represent a range of ethnic backgrounds - Indian, Egyptian, Palestinian, Lebanese, Jordanian, black, even part-Colombian - and collectively speak six languages and dialects, in addition to English. Most became friends years ago in Sunday school, at the Islamic Society. Some joined a Girl Scout troop established by Hamid's mother, Rose.
So this is a sorority of long standing, between young women who sometimes feel, as members of an often self-segregated (and largely gender-segregated) Muslim American culture, similar to a minority within a minority. Over the past year and half or so that they've been playing basketball, they say, the sport has made their friendship stronger.
They have had to work hard to get in shape after growing up in a culture that often discourages girls from active play. Some had to overcome the objections of older family members and mosque leaders who think it's unseemly for Muslim women to compete.
Since joining the team and working out regularly, Ruhi Brelvi said, "I have a better outlook on life. I feel healthier - basically, more confident."
And of course, the Cyclones have faced the same sexist ridicule that's dogged female athletes of most cultures, religious or secular, for centuries.
"A lot of people think girls can't play basketball," Sophie Brelvi said.
"Especially Muslim girls," Ruhi chimed in.
"Especially us," Suzanne Hamid said, sparking laughter from her teammates.
"These issues are really very deeply culturally entrenched," said Ebrahim Moosa, a professor of religious studies at Duke University. "Some (Muslim) cultures are more resistant to women's athletic participation than others."
That resistance has no basis in religion, Moosa said; there's nothing in the Qur'an that says, "No sports for girls." Still, Islamic traditions of modest dress and minimal contact with men outside the family do make for an uneven playing field.
At the Olympic level, Muslim women have competed successfully in competitions such as riflery, where the hijab and chador don't affect performance. In Barcelona in 1996, when Hassiba Boulmerka of Algeria won a gold medal in the 1,500 meters, running in a standard track uniform, her show of leg made her an outcast rather than a hero among some back at home.
In 2004, the same year female Olympians from Iraq, Afghanistan, Bahrain, Kuwait and Somalia competed in Athens, about 500 Muslim activists in Bangladesh protested their country's first women's soccer league. One Islamic leader called the league "satanic."
Those attitudes are changing, Moosa says, as women across the Muslim world claim a greater share of equality - in the mosque, at home, at school, in the workplace, and increasingly, in outside endeavors such as sports. Here in the United States, he says, more communities are offering girls-only hours at public pools, for instance, to accommodate Muslims.
Competitive, Too: Modestly dressed Muslim women make up the Carolina Cyclones
Modestly dressed Muslim women make up the Carolina Cyclones
