29/6/98
Daring
to
be
different
Morris Shehadeeh knows his place in the family.
"Coffee?"
he
asks
the
guest.
"You
see,"
he
says,
grinning,
upon
returning
with
a
tray
of
goodies,
"in
this
Arab
home,
it's
the
man
who
prepares
the
coffee."
"We've
always
been
different,"
says
his
wife
Suad,
an
activist
feminist,
artist
and
lapsed
politician
with
a
passion
for
education.
Morris
is
a
good
sport
about
his
role
as
head
of
a
family
of
Arab
feminists.
He
supports
Suad's
mission
to
the
hilt.
Good
thing,
too:
they
have
five
daughters
who
follow
her
lead.
And
different
they
are,
in
a
society
not
noted
for
free-spirited
individualism.
"I've
been
a
feminist
ever
since
I
was
a
little
girl
in
the
village,
even
from
the
age
of
six
or
seven.
It
bothered
me
that
most
of
my
classmates
--
about
15
girls,
out
of
20
--
did
not
go
on
to
high
school."
Suad
was
encouraged
to
study
by
parents
who
were
illiterate,
who
never
went
to
school
themselves.
She
is
more
than
making
up
for
it:
she's
still
a
student,
at
the
age
of
50.
"I
didn't
go
to
an
Arab
high
school,
I
went
to
a
Jewish
one,
near
Acre.
I
was
the
only
Arab
there.
But
it
was
fine,
it
was
the
mid-'60s;
I
was
like
one
of
the
Jewish
girls,
we
did
everything
together.
There
was
no
racism,
not
as
we
have
now."
She
has
always
raised
eyebrows
in
her
village,
Fassuta,
an
enclave
of
2,000
Catholic
Arabs
three
km
from
the
Lebanese
border.
"It
wasn't
easy
for
a
girl
to
go
study,
to
wear
pants,
to
leave
the
village,
to
learn
Hebrew.
I
was
among
the
first
to
break
from
the
traditions.
It
was
a
bit
hard
at
the
beginning,
but
I
wanted
to
change
things."
Even
something
as
simple
as
choosing
names
for
her
children.
She
smiles.
"Yes,
there
was
a
little
outcry."
Samiramis,
the
eldest
at
27,
was
named
for
an
Egyptian
mythical
character,
a
half-fish,
half-girl
daughter
of
the
sea.
A
year
later
Ezies
was
born,
yclept
for
Isis,
the
goddess
of
the
Nile.
Why
the
strange
spelling?
She
laughs
teasingly.
"I
spell
it
as
I
wish!"
Osiris
was
the
husband
and
brother
of
Isis
in
Egyptian
mythology,
and
god
of
the
underworld;
however,
in
the
Shehadeeh
family,
he's
a
beautiful
she
(who
also
took
liberties
with
her
monicker,
spelling
it
Azoris).
Does
she
mind
going
through
life
with
a
man's
name?
No,
says
Ezies,
"anyway,
only
we
know
it's
a
man's
name."
But
everyone
knows
that
Adonis
was
the
paragon
of
male
beauty
--
and
Greek
at
that.
Never
mind;
Adonis
Shehadeeh
is
18,
and
all
woman.
The
youngest
is
14-year-old
Aphrodite,
the
Greek
goddess
of
love
and
beauty.
All
five
are
tall
and
lovely,
artistic,
ardently
feminist,
and,
like
their
parents,
believe
that
a
woman's
place
is
in
school.
Azoris
studies
business
management
and
law;
Samiramis
majored
in
chemistry
at
the
Technion
before
embarking
on
a
career
in
fashion
design;
Adonis
studies
English
and
English
literature;
Ezies,
tourism;
Suad
herself
has
degrees
in
education,
management
and
is
working
on
her
BA
in
art.
Suad's
return
to
school
interrupted
a
promising
political
career.
Two
years
ago,
in
the
Meretz
primaries,
Suad
garnered
more
votes
than
anyone
else
in
Haifa,
Jew
or
Arab.
She
placed
15th
on
the
Meretz
list
in
the
Knesset
elections.
She
was
an
extreme
rarity
--
an
Arab
woman
politician
--
but
don't
even
suggest
it
was
tokenism.
She
is
not
a
manequin
dressed
up
as
anything
she's
not.
Regard
for
Suad
is
so
high
that
she
was
short-listed
for
the
position
of
ambassador
to
Finland.
"They
gave
it
to
a
man
instead;
you
see
how
unfair
it
is?"
Yes,
but
it
was
an
Arab
man
--
Haj
Yihye.
She
smiles.
"I
think
they
decided
that
before
they
have
an
ambassador
who's
an
Arab
and
a
woman,
they
should
have
an
Arab
who's
only
a
man."
Regard
for
her
is
so
high
that
in
1989
the
city
presented
her
with
a
certificate,
proclaiming
her
an
exemplary
citizen.
At
least
until
she
gets
her
latest
degree,
she
has
restricted
her
political
involvement
to
Haifa
and
the
region.
For
now,
national
politics
will
just
have
to
struggle
along
without
her.
Unrestricted
is
her
battle
for
women's
rights
--
mostly
Arab
issues,
which
are
most
pressing,
but
she
is
devoted
to
universal
issues
too.
Feminism
can
make
men
see
red
in