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The Secret Lives of Martinos Folk
Zeynab Alshelh fights stereotypes of women in Islam, one karate kick at a time Zeynab Alshelh has practiced karate since she was a young child growing up in Australia. For much of the time she has been involved with the sport, she has focused her efforts on the discipline known as shadow fighting, or Kata. Kata comprises a pre-arranged pattern of movements—kicks and punches, sweeps and strikes—that must be carried out with strength and precision, both in the movements themselves and in the transitions between them. Maintaining perfect form is everything. Alshelh says she approaches her Kata practice as if she were creating a work of art—say, writing calligraphy or painting a painting—“that is, as if the smallest movements may have the biggest impact.” Small, bold moves with significant impact is a recurring theme in her life, both in her work and in her karate practice. Her work recently brought her to Boston, where she is a postdoctoral researcher in the Pain and Neuroinflammation Imaging Laboratory at the Martinos Center. Her practice has won her widespread acclaim and no small number of honors and awards, and over the years has also evolved into a form of advocacy against racism and against negative ideologies about women in Islam. A Muslim woman herself, she has encountered a number of these obstacles and responded quietly but decisively: not least, by standing firm in her right to compete in her headscarf. In her insistence on maintaining her Muslim identity while forging a career in the world of karate, she has provided a strong role model for other young women in the sport and helped to dismantle pernicious stereotypes about Islam. Alshelh began her shadow fighting practice some 15 years ago when her father enrolled her and her brothers in a karate class. She didn’t much care for it at first, she says, but she nonetheless wanted to excel at it. Even 156
as a young girl, it seems, commitment and resolve were woven into the fabric of her character. Over the years, especially as she improved, she found she enjoyed karate more and more—to the point where her practice has now become an integral part of her identity. Competitive sparring, or freestyle fighting, is a relatively recent development for her (she has regularly participated—and placed—in Kata competitions since she was very young). In 2013, she entered the Australian National Championships largely on a whim, trained for a couple of weeks beforehand and, much to her surprise, she says, came in second. “Clearly my years of Kata practice positively influenced my ability to spar,” she adds. “This is what is so fantastic about karate: while there are many aspects to it, training in each one assists the other.” She went on to place in every state competition she entered and to collect armfuls of additional trophies, a winning streak that culminated with the first-place prize in the 2017 Australian National Championships. As she climbed in ranking, though, she began to encounter resistance from the World Karate Federation. In 2014, she was selected to represent Australia in the US Open championship tournament. She was thrilled by the opportunity, but her elation quickly turned to disappointment when the federation told her she could not compete with her headscarf, as she always had in Australia. “This began a domino effect and suddenly I found myself denied from other tournaments and getting kicked off the Australian and state team,” she says. “I took myself out of the limelight as it became too overwhelming and I trained without competing for a couple of months.” And even as she was reeling from the fallout of the federation’s decision, her home karate club in Australia, the one that had welcomed
