As far as teaching in the Middle East goes, I am lucky enough to live in the UAE, where it is not necessary to wear an abaya in order to feel comfortable in everyday life. And as a feminist inspired by people like Sheryl Sandberg, I had to wonder if wearing an abaya was the best way to present myself as an empowered female. I didn't think it was. Until...
I walked into my first day of classes, filled with mostly 20-something guys, ready to present myself as a strong, engaging teacher, hoping the "female" aspect would not be a big deal. It kind of was. Although they were responsive to me, they were more likely to write me off when they felt fed up, in turn making me try ten times harder to earn respect most men have as soon as they walk into the classroom. And for months after that first day, I tried to change the Emirati culture, if only in my small classrooms. I tried to assert my merits in a culture where western women have a completely different reputation than what I would like to be associated with - unfortunately, western media has already convinced these men that western women are all, well, easy lushes. After months of thinking I was changing their minds, some of my students started inviting me to bars (despite me saying I didn't drink and that I was married) and one brought me a teddy bear holding hearts that said "I love you" (a seemingly innocuous gesture in the US, but in the UAE something completely inappropriate and suggestive, something they would never do to a local woman in my situation). I began to wonder. And finally it hit me. I cannot and will not change the way most of these men see western women.
I knew how I saw myself and tried to present myself. But I realized that was me in a western context. But I wasn't in a western context. I was in the Middle East - something that should have been obvious to me, but oddly took me a while to come to terms with. I guess I thought I could not only hold my own among a group of local men, but also get them to see through the "western woman" stereotypes. And then I realized that this might just be seen as another charming part of the stereotype that attracted the men to me. "Oh she's just playing hard to get... Cute..."
How could I get my male students to see my version of me? Something had to change. But by then, it was summer vacation, so I took a few weeks to ruminate while I was back home. When I returned from vacation, another young, female teacher was wearing an abaya. She began to wear it during the holy month of Ramadan and liked it so much that she kept wearing it, even after the religious holiday passed. She told me the students were more respectful and she was more confident in the classroom. I had already debated the idea of wearing one, and her decision to cinched it. If I couldn't get them to see me from my point-of-view, then I would have to fit into their idea of a honorable woman to get any respect. I had tried my hardest to fight it, but I was admitting defeat. I decided I would try an abaya, too.
Surprisingly, however, I don't feel defeated at all! It's only been a couple weeks, but I am surprised at how liberated I feel wearing something that western society sees as a bit demeaning to women. I think it's seen as demeaning because foreigners believe that the women here must be forced to wear this style of dress. In reality, for most women here it's a choice, a choice that I myself have even decided to make. When I wear an abaya, I don't have to wonder what the men are saying about me. I don't feel uncomfortable when I turn around to write on the board or bend over to help a student with his work. And best of all, I don't have to worry about if I ironed all the wrinkles out of my clothes, because no one can see them underneath!
I will even go a step further and say that I feel like an abaya is one of the most empowering things a woman can wear - especially after reading Natasha Walter's Living Dolls: The Return of Sexism (an interesting book about our hypersexualized culture in the west, which I highly recommend). An abaya takes the focus completely off your body and your sexuality in an obvious and deliberate way. It's clear that this is a choice I am making to show the world I will not be viewed as a sexual object and I demand respect based on my personality and virtues, not my figure or style. I have to admit that I am interested in seeing if abayas could be brought into the west for this reason (maybe to wear on those nights "I just want to dance with my friends...really"!). I still feel very feminine wearing the soft, flowing abayas, yet I now receive much more respect from my students and other people I interact with. I don't wear it all the time, but when I really want to avoid unwanted attention, it certainly comes in handy. I definitely recommend it to women working in the Middle East, and to women anywhere else who want people to focus on their mind more than their body. Or who don't want to iron ever again.
I walked into my first day of classes, filled with mostly 20-something guys, ready to present myself as a strong, engaging teacher, hoping the "female" aspect would not be a big deal. It kind of was. Although they were responsive to me, they were more likely to write me off when they felt fed up, in turn making me try ten times harder to earn respect most men have as soon as they walk into the classroom. And for months after that first day, I tried to change the Emirati culture, if only in my small classrooms. I tried to assert my merits in a culture where western women have a completely different reputation than what I would like to be associated with - unfortunately, western media has already convinced these men that western women are all, well, easy lushes. After months of thinking I was changing their minds, some of my students started inviting me to bars (despite me saying I didn't drink and that I was married) and one brought me a teddy bear holding hearts that said "I love you" (a seemingly innocuous gesture in the US, but in the UAE something completely inappropriate and suggestive, something they would never do to a local woman in my situation). I began to wonder. And finally it hit me. I cannot and will not change the way most of these men see western women.
I knew how I saw myself and tried to present myself. But I realized that was me in a western context. But I wasn't in a western context. I was in the Middle East - something that should have been obvious to me, but oddly took me a while to come to terms with. I guess I thought I could not only hold my own among a group of local men, but also get them to see through the "western woman" stereotypes. And then I realized that this might just be seen as another charming part of the stereotype that attracted the men to me. "Oh she's just playing hard to get... Cute..."
How could I get my male students to see my version of me? Something had to change. But by then, it was summer vacation, so I took a few weeks to ruminate while I was back home. When I returned from vacation, another young, female teacher was wearing an abaya. She began to wear it during the holy month of Ramadan and liked it so much that she kept wearing it, even after the religious holiday passed. She told me the students were more respectful and she was more confident in the classroom. I had already debated the idea of wearing one, and her decision to cinched it. If I couldn't get them to see me from my point-of-view, then I would have to fit into their idea of a honorable woman to get any respect. I had tried my hardest to fight it, but I was admitting defeat. I decided I would try an abaya, too.
Surprisingly, however, I don't feel defeated at all! It's only been a couple weeks, but I am surprised at how liberated I feel wearing something that western society sees as a bit demeaning to women. I think it's seen as demeaning because foreigners believe that the women here must be forced to wear this style of dress. In reality, for most women here it's a choice, a choice that I myself have even decided to make. When I wear an abaya, I don't have to wonder what the men are saying about me. I don't feel uncomfortable when I turn around to write on the board or bend over to help a student with his work. And best of all, I don't have to worry about if I ironed all the wrinkles out of my clothes, because no one can see them underneath!
I will even go a step further and say that I feel like an abaya is one of the most empowering things a woman can wear - especially after reading Natasha Walter's Living Dolls: The Return of Sexism (an interesting book about our hypersexualized culture in the west, which I highly recommend). An abaya takes the focus completely off your body and your sexuality in an obvious and deliberate way. It's clear that this is a choice I am making to show the world I will not be viewed as a sexual object and I demand respect based on my personality and virtues, not my figure or style. I have to admit that I am interested in seeing if abayas could be brought into the west for this reason (maybe to wear on those nights "I just want to dance with my friends...really"!). I still feel very feminine wearing the soft, flowing abayas, yet I now receive much more respect from my students and other people I interact with. I don't wear it all the time, but when I really want to avoid unwanted attention, it certainly comes in handy. I definitely recommend it to women working in the Middle East, and to women anywhere else who want people to focus on their mind more than their body. Or who don't want to iron ever again.
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