Islamic schools in the United States and England: Implications for integration and social cohesion

Islamic schools in the United States and England

The growth of Muslim populations in the US and England over the past few decades has fuelled demand for educational establishments to reflect the teachings of Islam. US Islamic schools emerged in the 1970s and their number grew significantly in the 1980s and 1990s (Haddad et al., 2009), reaching an estimated 300 across the country today (Islamic School League of America, 2014). In England, the first independent schools were established in the late 1970s and Islamic schools today number close to 200, the majority having been established in the last decade (Abrams, 2011).

In both countries, the primary motivation for establishing Islamic schools was largely practical: state schools observed Judeo-Christian religious holidays, and there was very little accommodation for Muslims when it came to religious practice such as the five daily prayers or the Ramadan or Eid festivals. Islamic schools aimed to provide an environment in which the practices and teachings of Islam could be incorporated into everyday learning. In this respect, Islamic schools do not differ from other faith schools in their aim to provide a space in which children can learn mainstream subjects in the context of their faith (Merry and Driessen, 2009; Thohbani, 2010).

However, Islamic schools in the US and England both face issues that set them apart from Jewish and Christian schools due to the societal context in which they operate and the ethnic and cultural diversity of their constituents. While many Islamic schools share goals with other faith schools (e.g. religious socialization and academic excellence), they must also deal with Islamophobia, teach the language that dominates their religious services (Arabic), negotiate differences among the multiple racial/ethnic subgroups of Muslims (Arab, Pakistani, African American, etc.) and decide which of the many ethnically and culturally related religious practices to include in the curriculum (Haddad et al., 2009; Zine, 2001).

A key difference between the US and British contexts is that US Islamic schools receive no direct federal aid and have minimal accountability to the state. In contrast, many Islamic schools in England receive state funding, and even those that do not must still undergo inspections by the Office for Standards in Education, Children’s Services and Skills (OFSTED). While US Islamic schools have fewer federal and state restrictions, most strictly monitor testing and strive for high educational standards in order to publicize their attainment rates and attract more students (Islamic School League of America, 2014).

Islamic schools and social cohesion

Strong claims are often made regarding the impact of faith schools on the personal and intellectual autonomy of students (Jones, 2008). Some argue that students who attend faith schools are limited to a single ideological approach to viewing the world, as well as a reduced ability to challenge the legitimacy of such perspectives (Halstead and McLaughlin, 2005). Furthermore, faith schools are often sites for the intensive development of religious identities, which can coincide or conflict with ethnic identities and create notions of distinctive group boundaries (Alleyne, 2011).

In both the England and the US, such debates now focus primarily on Islamic schools. Professor Richard Dawkins, perhaps Britain’s best-known opponent to faith schools, has argued that Islamic schools are far more damaging to children’s autonomy than Christian schools, due to the Shar’iah’s position on apostasy. ³ Although these arguments focus on the rights of the child, the core oppositional position to Islamic schools in recent times is centered on fear associated with the perceived lower level of integration of Muslims, more broadly, than of other minority religious and ethnic groups (Meer, 2007; Elbih, 2012; Alleyne, 2011).

The attacks on 11 September and 7 July further fuelled concerns that Islamic schools might be radicalizing young Britons and Americans (Elbih, 2012; Bennhold, 2014). Such fears sparked opposition to the establishment of new Muslim schools such as the Khilal Gibran Academy in Brooklyn (Elliot, 2008). Islamic schools began facing even greater criticism than other faith schools that they were promoting intolerance towards other communities. Interestingly, however, in 2004, only 32% of Islamic schools in England, compared with 42.5% of Evangelical Christian schools, received low scores on measures assessing the teaching of tolerance towards other communities during OFSTED inspections (Meer, 2007). Thus, even though Islamic schools are often singled out in debates about faith schools and tolerance, research indicates that Islamic schools in England actually fare better on this issue than their Evangelical Christian counterparts.

The spatial separation of communities has also been raised as a public policy concern (Cantle, 2004). Critics perceive Islamic schools as a means of separating Muslim families from non-Muslim communities, thereby providing less opportunity for inter-ethnic and inter-faith mixing. Such views are heavily influenced by contact theory (Allport, 1954), which, as described by Baerveldt et al. (2004: 56), argues that

contact within a cooperative framework diminishes prejudices and strengthens positive attitudes about the other group. This will enhance the chance that people will engage in relationships. It should be noted that schools generally provide cooperative frameworks for contacts between pupils and it could be argued that the chance that friendships develop runs parallel to the chance that pupils have contact. Along this line of thinking, the chance that pupils have contacts with pupils of other ethnic [and faith] groups should completely predict the chance that they establish inter-ethnic relationships.

Despite the prominence of contact theory in conversations about social cohesion, empirical studies find inconsistent evidence on whether inter-group mixing actually produces positive outcomes (e.g. Baerveldt et al., 2004). Furthermore, there is mounting evidence to support the benefits of separate spaces for faith education, not only for students but also for society as a whole. This line of reasoning argues that faith schools provide students with protection from prejudice (Short, 2003). Khan (2010) discusses how the absence of safe spaces for minority groups can lead to a rejection of authority, resulting in disenfranchisement. When provided with safe spaces, minority children more readily develop self-esteem, leading to greater confidence and self-awareness when contact with others eventually takes place (Short, 2003).

Other studies suggest that state schools may fail Muslim students academically and socially (Meer, 2007). In the UK, for example, the 2011 Census found that, in comparison with all other faith groups, British Muslims were among the lowest performing students and the group least likely to leave school with satisfactory qualifications (Hussain and Sherif, 2014). Hussain’s (2008) study offers several explanations for the low achievement of Muslim students in state schools, including an increase in anti-Muslim discrimination. In contrast to their British counterparts, Muslims in North America are typically described as high achievers who are embedded in the professional classes (Read, 2008). Yet they too face problems surrounding the acceptability of their religious identity. Zine’s (2001) study of Islamic schools in Canada demonstrated that students and parents felt them to be ‘safe havens’, providing a space free from the racism and religious discrimination encountered in many state schools. Merry and Driessen (2009: 102) describe Islamic schools in the US as catering to students ‘whose cultural identities are hybrid and fluid, whose religious identities are routinely shunned and derided in Western societies and whose psychological and physical safety are important for [their] flourishing’. While some studies exploring faith schools and social cohesion have focused on the experiences of students and their families, few have done so for Muslims. Understanding the experiences of Muslims can shed light on the processes that promote or inhibit their interaction with non-Muslim communities – an important component of social cohesion.

Intended and unintended consequences

The majority of the parents interviewed in England and the US explained that their primary motivation for choosing an Islamic school was the ethnic and religious socialization of their offspring. In contrast, the schools themselves were more focused on academic achievement than socialization. This was evident particularly in discussions with administrators and teachers, most of whom worked long hours that extended beyond the requirements of their salaried positions. Many of the teachers described their roles as providing a service to the community by preparing students to excel in mainstream careers in the safety of a non-discriminatory environment. Likewise, students and parents felt that the Islamic schools provided a better academic environment than the surrounding state schools. One university student in England compared his academic achievements with that of his neighbourhood peers who attended a local state school:

More people where I came from, from my area, went to a certain high school. And most of them were, well let’s say that the chance of coming out of that school successful was like once in a blue moon. All my friends from my area see it as an achievement that I’m at university, whereas I never see it as a big deal. (University student, England)

This student was in many ways a success story for his community. He was a high achiever, actively involved in campus life, had clear professional ambitions and was very comfortable describing himself as a British Muslim. In contrast, students and parents in the US discussed the school’s focus on high academic achievement with mixed feelings. Although they were pleased with the progress of their children, several complained about the demanding homework requirements and strict rule enforcement. While they believed that such ‘pushy’ behaviour probably enhanced their children’s performance, it also caused frustration at times. Nevertheless, students, parents and teachers in both countries felt that frequent, sustained student–teacher interaction and excellent student–teacher ratios were the greatest strengths of Islamic schools. As one British student who had moved from a state school to an Islamic school explained,

the thing I liked least about my [state] school – they used to tell us something, but if you didn’t understand and asked the teacher to explain, they would just say you weren’t listening. Then whenever it’s a parents’ evening, they would tell our parents that we don’t listen and should ask for help. And we would say we do ask for help but they don’t give it. (Year 10 student, England)

Similarly, an American parent described how the lack of student–teacher time in state schools was a motivation for choosing an Islamic school:

My son was not motivated, even though he is very capable. Every single year his teacher recommended that he be evaluated for the academically gifted program based on his performance in class. Yet when they test him he does not test well and they notice he doesn’t care. He’s not motivated – yet he responds when you give him attention. His class had 1 teacher and 29 students; 24 of them were boys. I have no idea how the teacher did it. At the Islamic school there are lower ratios so I know that boys who are capable like him are thriving because the attention is focused on them big time. The teacher last year had nine students and a teaching assistant also … compare that to 29 at the public school and no assistant! (Parent, US)

This feature of Islamic schools was also noted by university students who had been through the Islamic school system. The abundance of teacher support was likened to a family environment, where teachers took on a pseudo-parental role: ‘the teachers are like our mothers and all of the people in the school are like our brothers and sisters. So it does feel like a big family’ (Year 8 student, England).

This closeness was also described as a double-edged sword for some parents and students, who felt that the boundaries of privacy were sometimes blurred. Students explained that it was difficult to keep secrets or conceal issues from the rest of the student body and staff. The family-like environment also came with unintended consequences, particularly as it related to students pushing the boundaries of familial expectations. Two female students in England whose families did not want them to pursue careers exemplify this issue. The students’ teachers discussed how they were committed to challenging such views and described how they used their own authority as religious teachers to persuade the parents to reconsider their stance. One teacher at a British school explained:

I can talk to her father and he will listen. He is far more likely to be receptive to the opinions of a practising Muslim teacher [me], someone equipped with knowledge about Islam and women’s rights, than a teacher at a mainstream school who may be perceived as potentially corrupting her.

In this way, teachers are able to provide a religiously legitimate voice in support of students. Thus, rather than reproducing patriarchy, Islamic schools can be an important space in which young people may challenge and overcome traditionalist views. This is in keeping with previous studies describing how young Western-born Muslim women utilize religious teachings in order to negotiate greater freedom within the public sphere (e.g., Read and Bartkowski, 2000; Read and Oselin, 2008).

Other students relied on administrators and teachers to help them overcome obstacles to achievement caused by a lack of familial human capital. Some parents came from lower socio-economic backgrounds and lacked educational experiences to pass on to their children. Some parents also felt that academic achievement was less of a priority than good moral behaviour. Teachers were attuned to these cases and often spent extra time nurturing the students’ skills. Their adoption of a pseudo-parental role resulted in a transfer of human capital from the teacher to the pupil. In this respect, Islamic schools could be particularly beneficial in improving the mobility of students from less advantaged backgrounds.

Segregation or delayed integration?

A common assumption in public discourse is that Islamic schools segregate and isolate Muslims from non-Muslims, thereby weakening social cohesion. We focused on this issue by asking respondents whether they felt that being part of an Islamic school hindered, helped or perhaps had no effect on their experiences in non-Muslim arenas. Some of the most telling comments came from university students who had attended an Islamic school. Many felt that the Islamic schools gave them the confidence to interact with those from outside of their faith community, and all said that it was important to do so in order to enjoy the full benefits of living in a multicultural society. Both the university and school students described having a mixture of Muslim and non-Muslim friends in England and the US. For example, one British engineering student described how he sat with the same two non-Muslim friends in his lectures, played football in a mixed group and had an active role in Islamic society events. The female students who wore the hijab described feeling confident enough to do so at their university and felt that it had not hampered their ability to make non-Muslim friends. However, the characteristics of such friendships were variable, many resembling casual friendships rather than close, meaningful ones (see Reynolds, 2007).

Parents in the US described how their children were exposed to a great deal of diversity at the Islamic school because the student body originated from an array of countries. When asked about exposing children to religious diversity, many parents described how the residents in their suburbs were predominantly non-Muslim and that their children often played with the other children in their neighbourhoods, met their parents’ non-Muslim friends and took part in extracurricular activities outside the Islamic school, in which they had regular contact with non-Muslim children. In England parents said there were far fewer organized activities with non-Muslims, but they also felt that their children would not have difficulty engaging with wider society as a result of attending an Islamic school:

No, I don’t, I don’t feel they’re missing out. Like I said, I do take my children out, they do communicate with their [non-Muslim] teachers and they do have a chance of seeing the outer world. I don’t personally feel that they’re missing out. Because in the end they are going to go to a school that is going to have a mixed group, at high school, at university … so they will have a chance to mix [with non-Muslims] there. (Parent, England)

Another British parent felt that too much emphasis was placed on interacting with non-Muslims. She described how her daughter, after finishing school, would get married and only need to have regular contact with her family and immediate community. Such sentiments echo those described earlier by a minority of students who claimed that their parents did not encourage them to pursue higher education or a career.

Approximately 90% of respondents also felt that Muslims should not attend Islamic schools for the totality of their schooling because it could result in difficulties in college and beyond. Several students spoke about looking forward to attending mainstream schools, in spite of feeling nervous about the challenges they might face. The students who had attended an Islamic school and were at a mainstream university also described their feelings on this retrospectively, stating that a mixture of private and state schooling was optimum:

I’m really glad that I got the kindergarten through 8th grade experience at an Islamic school but I think as a person living in America you also need to experience the public school system. At an Islamic school, you only know Muslims and it’s good that I went there and learned good morals and values, but then you also need to experience what’s out there. (University student, US)

Students also discussed being able to navigate mainstream areas more successfully as a result of delayed inter-group contact; they reported feeling more confident in expressing their religious identity with their teachers and peers. This finding supports the concept of delayed integration whereby:

A minority struggling to maintain its identity often welcomes a limited amount of isolation that might enable it to gain the confidence and security it needs in the early days of its establishment. That confidence, once achieved, might later help in its attempts to assimilate on its own terms. (Akhtar, 1992: 43)

We also found that teachers and administrators often discouraged employment in ethnic enclaves in favour of greater participation in mainstream society. They would mentor the students and advise them to focus on subjects and areas that would make them competitive for nationally ranked universities, often talking about career options in a long-term perspective. In this respect, our findings are in keeping with the Short’s (2003) study on Jewish schools, in which he concluded that faith schools may not only be compatible with social cohesion but actually strengthen it. It can be argued, in the same vein, that Islamic schools serve to strengthen the integration of Muslim communities by arming young people with qualifications to compete for places in mainstream higher education institutions and the labour force.

Religious schools, religious students?

A common concern highlighted in debates is that Islamic schools are inculcating Muslim youth with religious extremism (Elbih, 2012; Bennhold, 2014). Mindful of such assertions, the study paid particular attention to the various ways in which religion can be exhibited – in practice, in dress, in language, in the classroom environment and so on. The interviews and participant observation revealed considerable variability in the degree of religiosity among participants in the study. Some teachers wore a face covering (niqab) and observed strict gender segregation, while other teachers at the same school were not affiliated with Islam (self-identifying as either atheists or from other faith backgrounds). Most students and parents described themselves as being somewhere in the ‘middle’ in terms of how religious they were. The American parents described themselves as having moderate Islamic views and several compared themselves to being a good Christian, seeing little difference between their religiosity and that of their neighbours.

When asked whether the Islamic school their children attended would be a good fit for all Muslims, two American parents commented that it may not suit those with more ‘extreme’ or ‘stricter’ religious views, demonstrating that parents perceived the schools as espousing more mainstream and moderate versions of Islam. Students also commonly expressed the opinion that parents and communities play a bigger role than the schools in shaping their religious views and behaviours. All agreed that attending an Islamic school made them more aware of their religion but not all felt that it resulted in their becoming ‘better’ Muslims. Several Muslim university students felt that they had been exposed to more theological approaches after leaving Islamic school and expressed appreciation for the opportunity to evaluate their religious perspectives in relation to other faith traditions. They also described how attending Islamic schools had turned some students away from Islam altogether rather than cementing religious conviction. This was in keeping with the views of many parents, students and teachers in the study, who argued that religiosity is not necessarily more pronounced among those who attend Islamic schools.

University students who had not attended an Islamic school likewise agreed that Islamic school training did not necessarily result in greater piety. Moreover, several of these students described themselves as practising Muslims who felt no less religious than their counterparts who had attended Islamic schools. They also described receiving other forms of religious schooling in the form of Islamic Sunday schools in the US or after-school Islamic lessons at mosques in England. However, a key differentiator was that most female students who had attended an Islamic school wore the hijab in comparison with only a handful of those who had not attended an Islamic school. In contrast, there were no obvious physical differences between males who had or had not attended Islamic schools. For example, males who had attended mainstream schools also wore beards, whereas some males who had attended an Islamic school did not.

Interviews with participants in both settings reflected similar findings to other studies on the religious identities of young Muslims living in the West. Many students spoke about experiences post 9/11 (and 7/11 in England) and how it had become difficult to be a Muslim living in the West due to the increased politicization of Islam and Muslims (Zine, 2001; Peek, 2005). At the same time, none of the students felt any contradiction in describing themselves as both ‘British’ or ‘American’ and ‘Muslim’, demonstrating how they interpreted hybrid identities to fit their world view. This suggests that both cohorts of students were able to negotiate their identities in order to promote a sense of belonging in the context of their countries of nationality and their faith, simultaneously.