1.1.1 Exploring Parenting and Growing Up
This book has a twofold focus in exploring both identity and practices of upbringing in South Asian (those with Bangladeshi, Pakistani and Indian ethnic backgrounds) Muslim families in Britain. It looks at the everyday lives, relationships, values, beliefs and aspirations of South Asian Muslim teenagers who were mostly born in the UK, and of their parents, who instead grew up and became adults elsewhereâeither in Bangladesh, India or Pakistan.
I first met Fatiha during the rush hour. I went to pick her up at her office in a busy street in Inner London and, while carrying several shopping bags, walking toward her flat, she started telling me her story. Fatiha was a 41-year-old Bangladeshi woman, who arrived in the UK when she was only 11 years old. Although at the time she arrived she knew no English, she was able to catch up quickly and did well in her GCSEs and O Levels
3:
I did five GCSEs and two O Levels, Bengali and Chemistry and I got good grades. I was the second person to get a B in Chemistry out of all my year and I got a B in Bengali as well.
As a child, she dreamed of becoming a pharmacist, but when she turned 18, her father found her a husband. She genuinely liked the manâshe saidâand so they got married and she quit studying. Her coming of age happened quickly and quite smoothly, until she had her first child, Mo, who marked a turning point. Even though she had missed out on her education, Fatiha managed to find work soon after Mo was born. She began working as an interpreter from Bengali to English, initially for different charities, social services and local authorities. Once she had established herself as an interpreter, she progressed and, at the time of the interview, she had a âproperâ full-time position with the local council. This was still very much an unusual path in her community, where women of her generation are still less still likely to work than men, particularly if they have children: âWe needed the money and I wanted to contribute; itâs my family too,â she told me. During the walk, she explained something about the person she was and her dual sense of belonging and identity. Moving to Britain as a child and growing up in Inner London involved a different personal journey compared to other Bangladeshi women of the same generation, who often arrived in the UK as adults to get married:
I came here when I was little so my understanding mostly was this way of thinking in this country: the Western way of thinking, but with an âIslamic perspectiveâ if you know what I mean.
As a mother of threeâtwo boys and one girlâFatiha explained that the meaning of motherhood was about passing on a âBritish way of thinkingâ that was entangled with âIslamic perspectives,â such as religious views and values. Hence, being âindependent, ambitious, work-focused, [and] successfulâ and believing in social mobility enhanced by educationâshe saidâmust come together with Islam and the boundaries of behaviour that religion sets out. By embracing this principle, she was able to act as a role model for her children, turning the quite challenging task of negotiating different priorities and ways of life into actual practices to follow:
So as a parent I have to maintain the value of Islam for myself and if the children see that in me then it is easier for them to do it for themselves.
Being a âpractising Muslim working motherâ was her way to bring together her âIslamic perspectivesâ with her British identity.
Fatihaâs husband, Sakib, was a bit older than her. What he had to tell me about fatherhood and what being a father involved was also a reflection of his personal history. Unlike Fatiha, Sakib grew up in Bangladesh and moved to the UK as a young man in his early twenties. He said âworking hard,â was all he did from the first day of his arrival in England. While laughing, he told me that the only day he could remember having off work was the day he got married: âAnd even that was hard work!â Since that day, and particularly after Mo was born, the pressure on him to provide for the family grew even higher and there was no time for anything other than âwork, work, workâ. He worked in a mill and then in a factory for several years. He was made redundant and drove taxis in the night while helping in a Bengali restaurant during the day. Now, he was finally running his own business, he told me very proudly. Money was still tight and the competition was high but he was hopeful. âThis is why my English is so badâ, as he had never had the time to study, he explained. He admitted that at times things had been really hard, but he said that he had no regrets and was happy with how life had turned out for him:
I can look [at] a better future through my childrenâs eyes. So my work has [been] of some use. Iâm happy as a father.
Sakina, the daughter of Sakib and Fatiha, was a bubbly and chatty young woman whose ambition was to become a medical doctor. She was very determined and, at 18, she had already received an offer from one of the best medical universities in the UK. At the time I spoke to her, she was in the middle of her A Levels, but she appeared both confident and carefree, and I realised she did not mind interrupting her revision and spending time talking to me. It was evident that she fully took on board her motherâs message about negotiating âBritish thinkingââshe described her determination to do well in her careerâwith her faith in Islam. Sakina believed in God, prayed as many times as she couldâmost often five times a day, as Islam sets outâand, like her mother Fatiha, she wore the hijab.
4 Like her mother, she also strongly believed in the primacy of motherhood for women, which she did not see as clashing with her future career as a doctor. She said that negotiating family and work were challenges for any parent, not just for Muslim women. I asked how she felt about growing up in London at this specific time:
I think personally this country has been the best European country to be a Muslim in really, because I can practice my religion completely freely. In London, I donât know, Iâve never had any issue because everything has been so accommodating for me [âŠ] like in terms of what I wanted to do.
Sakinaâs interview ended on this positive note. The feelings and experiences of Sakina and her parents are not representative of the rest of South Asian Muslims in Britain and they do not speak on behalf of the rest of their ethnic-religious community in Inner London. Yet, the interviews with Sakinaâs family highlight some of the important issues that I want to address in this book: what is it like to grow up as a British Muslim today? What is it like to bring up children in Britain as a Muslim parent? This book is about South Asian Muslim teenagers and their parents. It looks at the influence that parents have on the development of their childrenâs identity and on the young peopleâs experiences of growing up today as British, as Muslim, as South Asian, as boys or girls, and in families from working-class or middle-class backgrounds. In order to do so, I have drawn from more than 50 in-depth interviews
5 that I conducted with South Asian Muslim teenagers (aged 14â19 years) and their parents (aged from 40s to mid-50s) in different regions of England, as well as from more than 500 questionnaires that I distributed in three secondary schools in London and one college in North West England.
This chapter sets out the background to the book; it outlines the main theoretical influences, underlying debates, the aims and questions addressed by the research, and the methods employed for the collection and analysis of the data. The following chapters will report the findings from the research.