From my office window, I looked out over the fields of the Yezreel Valley, extending north to the hills of Nazareth and adorned with the first tentative green of the approaching winter. The student I shall call "Ahlaam" stopped talking. She took a paper tissue from the box I offered her and wiped away her tears. "Noor", sitting next to Ahlaam and holding her one-year old on her lap, smiled adoringly at Ahlaam.
Ahlaam is a first-year student in the department of Management Information Systems at Yezreel Valley College. Her personal story, which she was telling me in the context of my work at the college, touched my heart, representing as it does the struggle that Israeli Arab women have with the limitations imposed on them by tradition and convention.
Ahlaam is about 30 years old. She was born in one of the largest Arab cities in Israel, to a very religious family. At a young age she rebelled against the traditional lifestyle of her family. In high school she excelled, and her grade point average in her matriculation exams was over 100. She always dreamed of studying computers and joining the high-tech industry.
After Ahlaam finished high school, she was unable to fund post-secondary studies and did not receive any support for her ambitions from her family, so she had to make do with working as a junior clerk, earning a monthly salary of about 2,000 - 3,000 NIS (about $700 or $800). I wondered aloud whether such a low salary was even legal, being far below Israel's minimum wage. "That's the reality we Arab women live with," Ahlaam muttered bitterly. "My employer said if I didn't like it, he could find a thousand other women who would be delighted to swap places with me." Noor nodded in agreement.
A few years ago Ahlaam got married and hoped that with the support of her educated husband she could fulfill her dream and take a degree in computer science. Her hopes were dashed. When she registered at the college, she found out that her husband objected to her going for a degree. "It would change the current balance of power where he is the one who is educated and who brings home the better salary, and he was threatened by that. He wants me at home taking care of our children and his elderly parents. In his view, a woman's place is in the home, not in academia or industry." Her eyes became glazed with tears and I felt she was revealing more than she had intended to. I apologized and told her that she did not have to tell me anything more.
But Ahlaam clearly felt the need to unburden herself, and she continued talking. "Not only does he expect me to take care of the house and children, he also expects me to take care of his parents. Everyone is watching me, waiting for me to fail, for me not to be able to combine college studies and also function as a perfect wife, mother, homemaker and daughter-in-law. But I am determined to succeed despite his opposition and the obstacles he raises. I took a loan from the bank to finance my studies, and I know I can do it."
Ahlaam's story is not unusual. A young Muslim Arab woman who wants to get an education and become part of the Israeli workforce has to deal with several challenges:
The challenge of integrating into the mainstream of Israeli society. While it is true that several major companies in Israel are becoming increasingly geared up to integrate minority populations (including the ultra-Orthodox) into their workforces, and although both the Israeli government and social organizations have taken many concrete steps towards this goal, it is still much harder for Arabs to integrate into the Israeli workforce than for their Jewish neighbors.
Within Arab society, in particular the Muslim sector, women have to deal with an extremely low glass ceiling. The responsibilities for running the household, taking care of the children, and caring for parents - the husband's parents as well as the wife's - all fall on the women. In most Arab families, the husband never sets foot in the kitchen, does not wash the floors, and would never dream of changing a diaper. In addition, from the religious perspective of "woman's modesty" it is not very acceptable for a woman to work freely alongside men.
In the Galilee and other areas on the "periphery" of Israel, employment opportunities are far more limited than they are in the center of the country. Competition for work is so intense that there are many applicants for every available job, and Arab women start out at a great disadvantage.
One cannot overstate the importance of creating opportunities for Arab women like Ahlaam to acquire an education and become part of advanced industries. There would be several benefits to the country in general and to the periphery in particular:
One: Adding ambitious and skilled employees to the employment pool and increasing the percentage of the population that participates in the workforce.
Two: Increasing the supply of trained personnel for advanced industries in the periphery, encouraging companies to expand their activities to areas that suffer from lack of skilled employees.
Three: Creating additional income for households, thus increasing the amount available for discretionary expenditures and increasing economic activity in the periphery.
Four: Strengthening modernizing trends in the Arab sector and its integration into mainstream Israeli society, and weakening the trend towards extremism and sectarianism.
Five: Creating a more just society.
Make no mistake, the revolution is already here. More and more young Arab men and women are getting an education, realizing their ambition to become part of the advanced industries of Israel. Increasing numbers of pioneering companies (such as Galil Software in Nazareth and Babcom in Tefen) are identifying and employing this educated and ambitious population. Israel is investing more resources and efforts to support this trend. But the fact that such companies are still considered unusual shows that this great potential is currently leveraged only to a very small extent.
To Ahlaam and the thousands of other women who are fighting to break through the glass ceiling - you can do it! I wish you every success! December 2011
Sagi Melamed lives with his family in the community of Hoshaya in the Galilee. He serves as Vice President of External Affairs at the Max Stern Yezreel Valley College, and as Chief Instructor (4th Dan) of the Hoshaya Karate Club. Sagi received his Masters degree from Harvard University in Middle Eastern Studies with a specialty in Conflict Resolution. He can be contacted at: melamed.sagi@gmail.com
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