As an impressionable 16-year-old, I'll never forget my father's disbelief when he came home and relayed their conversation. It shaped a crucial part of developing my awareness of the very real injustices blocking women's participation in public spaces and the perverted beliefs that underlie it.

When my father met Omar Hallak, to ask him if he could advertise the club within the school, he was told that he could, only if he agreed not to recruit girls. According to Mr Hallak, girls could not play soccer, as it would compromise their virginity and fertility, somehow causing damage to essential baby-making internal organs.

During my time at the school, my father and uncle established a now-defunct soccer club, called Western Wolves. It was founded with the intention of providing sports in a safe and inclusive environment for Muslim youth in the local community.

My time at Al-Taqwa College was a rollercoaster of frustrations, battles and internalising resentment. If it wasn't the insidious racism, it was the oppressive preaching of faith that rendered critical thinking lost to obedience and authoritarianism. As female students, we often copped the short end of the stick. Participation in sport was never outright forbidden, it was just ignored wherever possible. Lip service was paid to exercise and sports, and there was an attempt to designate a "female-only" basketball court. When it was usurped by the boys, as it often was, teachers shrugged, indifferent to our indignation.. The schoolyard was strictly gender-segregated, with female students relegated to spaces of concrete and picnic tables.

Islamic schools are crucial to Muslim communities. My time at Al-Taqwa College provided me with opportunities to develop my identity, connect with other Muslim teenagers and develop friendships I keep to this day. We fondly remember our time at Al-Taqwa, often reminiscing about the multitude of bizarre and ridiculous things that happened during our time there.

Lamisse Hamouda with Omar Hallack during her school days at Al Taqwa .

However, we need to be critical of these spaces; being "Muslim" doesn't render them impervious to criticism. This criticism needs to be productive, inclusive and autonomous. We cannot and should not subscribe to marginalising women from sports activities, especially when faced with such absurd rationales. However, it is more than just sports; it is about an entire system that continually relegates the needs of women as secondary. This system is not Islamic and it is not Islam.

What we see here is the lived reality of patriarchal systems of oppressions in practice, systems influenced by culture and personal beliefs that are then filtered through the lens of Islam. Omar Hallak's beliefs about women's participation in sports are his and he can hold those beliefs, however bizarre. Yet, such beliefs cannot be held by a man in such a position of power, one who can spread such misinformation and affect the lives of countless female students who come through that school. That needs to be seriously challenged. Beliefs such as this furthers ideas of strict gender roles for women and risks suffocating their development. It upholds the marginalisation of women in our community, devaluing their wants and needs.



We need to facilitate women's involvement in public spaces, such as sports. An upcoming event in Bankstown, Sydney run by a group called Islamicate, "Are Muslim Women Silenced? Do We Have Enough Women As Community Leaders " is testament to the ongoing battle for women leadership and participation in the Muslim community.

By ignoring the pleas of his primary school female students, including a heart-breaking handwritten note [from the 12-year-old girls who wanted to run in the cross country], Omar Hallak is teaching these young women that their voices will not be heard, that their needs and wants do not matter in the presence of male authority. And what kind of a lesson is that to pass on to our children?