Anthropologist Flores-Meiser (1983:53) reporting on her fieldwork in a Muslim community in the Philippines, comments "It is on this common ground…no matter how narrow that humanity is bridged". She was referring to the ways in which mutual respect was established between herself-female and Christian - and members of the minority Muslim community. Although clearly an outsider, her research was facilitated by the "mutual accommodation of each other’s differences" (1983:51). These accommodations included the community recognising her as an observant Christian but defining her as a token male since this role would legitimise her access. Similarly Flores-Meiser showed her respect for Muslim beliefs by fasting during Ramadan and by abstaining from alcohol and pork. It was this idea of ‘finding common ground’, which led me to re-examine my experiences as a researcher within the Australian Muslim community whose educational needs I have researched during the past decade. In this paper, I intend to discuss the challenges facing a non-Muslim researcher within the Muslim community and the search for culturally appropriate research methods that would allow the voice of Muslims to be heard. First I will provide a brief description of the complexity and diversity of the Australian Muslim community, then examine the process of becoming a cross-cultural researcher and finally discuss culturally appropriate research methods. Since cross-cultural research inevitably challenges the dominant Euro-centric and medical paradigms of university ethics’ committees, I intend to conclude with some reflections on the understandings necessary for cross-cultural research.

There are considerable challenges for those undertaking research within the Muslim community, arising out of the relationships established between Muslims and the wider society, and the complexity of relationships within the Muslim community. Muslim immigrants have become a visible minority transforming the social and physical environment in many suburbs and towns, through the building of mosques, wearing of hijab (head scarf), opening halal food shops and establishing Islamic schools. Although Muslims have a high level taking up Australian citizenship (Census 1996), they remain outsiders in this society. The hostile and distorted view of Islam identified by a number of writers (Shboul 1984; Hippler & Leug 1995; Runnymede Trust 1997) inherited from Europe has ensured that Islam is seen as an alien religion and that Muslims are marginalised in Australian society. Since the Gulf War in 1990s, Muslims have frequently become targets of racist acts, arson, graffiti and personal abuse from their fellow Australian citizens. We have recently witnessed a re-occurrence of such behaviour in the aftermath of the terrorist attacks on the USA. Media images of Muslims as religious fanatics who oppress women, plus the political identification of Muslim refugees arriving by boats as ‘queue jumpers’, child abusers, potential terrorists, manipulative and rich, have contributed to ensuring that Muslims remain the Other. As Fine (1998:139) suggests the Other is banished to the margins of society and homogenised into a collective ‘they’. As a researcher, I believe that ignorance, fear and racism rather than facts or personal experiences have shaped the negative of image of Muslims. Part of finding common ground in my research meant removing the boundaries between Other and Self.

Who then are the Muslims living in Australia? The 1996 Census recorded 200,884 people who identified their religion as Islam, but for reasons related to migration and settlement experiences, this is an underestimate. The Muslim population probably now exceeds 300,000 (2001 Census data not available). It is important to acknowledge that although Muslims in Australia share a common religion, the community reflects the sectarian, ethnic and linguistic diversity of Islam. It is neither one homogeneous community nor one political entity any more than any other immigrant community is. The Other is in fact also culturally diverse, differentiated by levels of education, economic resources and experience. More than 50 countries of birth were noted at the Census (data file EO3), but 36% of Muslims were born in Australia. Although Muslims of Lebanese and Turkish background are the largest immigrant groups neither constitutes a majority and the community includes a proliferation of complementary and competing organisations which reflect the political, linguistic, sectarian and ethnic allegiances of Muslim immigrants. Mogaby (1984:33) is critical of "ethnicing Islam" which he believes to be against the cultural inclusive intent of Islam and therefore detrimental to developing an Australian Muslim community. Yet Saeed & Akbarzadeh (2001:5) believe that Muslims are developing a certain bond with Australia which is not at the expense of their Islamic identity. While the term ‘Muslim community’ is generally used, in reality there are many Muslim communities in Australia.

Most Muslim immigrants have settled in urban areas, in working class suburbs with rental housing, close to employment and public transport, with high concentrations of Muslims from particular countries in specific suburbs. Deen (1995 :88-91) identifies these suburbs as providing social networks, support systems and an Islamic environment. Demographically, this is a young community with 51% less than 25 years of age. Among adults who completed their education 8.8% have higher degrees compared to 4% for the population as a whole. But Muslims have below average representation at all other levels of qualification, which suggests that Muslim aspirations in education have yet to be realised. It was the Muslim belief in the importance of education expressed in the hadith (authenticated saying ) of the Prophet Muhammad-

that provided a focus for research on the educational needs of Muslims.

One of the most important questions a researcher must ask is "what does it all mean?" As Brislin et al. (1973:12) and Zinn (1979) suggest a researcher working within her own culture is able to interpret the meaning because of familiarity with that culture and an understanding of how events may be perceived. The researcher working within another culture, however, does not have this knowledge and may not know for example, what meaning is attached to being interviewed. Is the interviewer a government investigator, agent of the police, undercover journalist planning television exposure or an academic undertaking serious research? The Muslim community in Australia according to informants (Donohoue Clyne 2001) has been subject to all of these. In another culture the gender, age, religion, status or political beliefs of the researcher may be very important and may facilitate or restrict access to the community being researched. In the researcher’s own culture these may be neutralised by the research design. But as Stanfield (1998: 337) notes much of qualitative research is dominated by ethnic hegemonic characteristics drawn from Eurocentric traditions, in which most researchers have been socialised. When researching ethnic communities from Yugoslavia many years ago (Donohoue Clyne 1984), the question I was frequently asked "what is your religion?" for as subsequent events in Yugoslavia have shown, religion is an important marker of ethnic identity and may determine how a person is treated. Who is an "insider" or "outsider" is defined by culture and in cross-cultural research the researcher is seeking to cross the boundary between these roles (Rubin & Rubin 1995:171). Lack of sensitivity to cross-cultural dimensions, particularly in qualitative research, will prevent the researcher from finding answers to the question "what does it all mean?" and therefore being able to answer the specific questions shaping the research.

The researcher's identity and experience are critical to the success of the research. The "researcher’s intellectual autobiography" (Temple 1997:607) influences what they know and their experience influences what they research. My choice of Muslim communities and their education needs as research area was shaped by a combination of personal interests, experiences and opportunity. Previous community based research with the ethnic communities from Yugoslavia, had provided many opportunities for me to struggle with other cultural perspectives on education and to experience the frustration of different communication styles. Recent research projects on cross-cultural communication in education and on the traditional beliefs and practices about health among Asian communities increased my interest in the experiences of ethnic minority communities. Like Peshkin (1982) who chose to research in small communities because he grew up in a small community and felt comfortable with that situation, I chose to research the Muslim community, because my academic and teaching interests have focussed on ethnic communities and their educational needs. But the catalyst for my on-going research involvement with Muslim communities was the Cross-cultural Communication Project (1990-1) in which I was the principal researcher. This highlighted some important issues in relation to the Muslim community in Australia namely that teachers in schools with a high enrolment of Muslim students (nearly 300 teachers in thirteen different schools and language centres were interviewed) knew little of what it meant to be a Muslim in Australia. However, they did not necessarily share the racist stereotypes of Muslims presented in the media. My interviews during recent research with teachers of Muslim background and bilingual consultations with Muslim parents, indicated similar misunderstandings of Australian culture and also revealed considerable dissonance with Australian schools (Donohoue Clyne 2001)

While the experience of researching other ethnic communities provides insights into cross-cultural research, each community is different. It was therefore, essential to have some knowledge of the Muslim community and its values and beliefs before beginning the research. A process of cultural orientation was considered essential to becoming an effective cross-cultural researcher and consisted of immersing myself in Islamic culture, history, literature, architecture and art. Therefore, hopefully ensuring that important symbols which Rubin & Rubin (1995:176) refer to, as "cultural icons...that represents a core value, norm, theme or expectation" would be recognised later when observing or interviewing within the Muslim community. As a person of faith, I followed the path that a potential convert to Islam might take. I read the Qur'an (in English since I do not know Arabic, but not I am told, a particularly good translation), visited mosques, spoke to converts to Islam about their journey, viewed videos, read extensively on Islam and on Muslim culture. I also read a number of popular bio-fictions or airport books on Muslims of the type that inspired ‘Not without my daughter’ and ‘Death of a Princess’ and realised how distorted is the image of Islam and Muslims portrayed in such books. (see Donohoue Clyne 2001b). I also tried to monitor the representation of Muslims and Islam in the media.

The Outsider.

Minichiello et al. (1995:182-6) raise a number of methodological issues in relation to the question of who should do research in ethnic communities, the so-called 'insider-outsider' controversy, citing studies in which hostility and mistrust was shown towards 'outsider' researchers. Similar experiences were shared by Bullivant (1978) and Peshkin (1986) who acknowledged the methodological problems of researching in religious schools in which they were outsiders to the faith. In two studies of education in the Jewish community in Melbourne (Bullivant 1978, Aroni 1985 cited by Minichiello et al. 1995), it was assumed by the Jewish community that because Aroni was Jewish, she would understand and not misinterpret 'cultural icons'. The non-Jewish Bullivant's ethnographic research was perceived as being subjective and controversial. Neither of these assumptions is necessarily correct and may reflect on that particular Jewish community's understanding and experience of ethnographic research. In comparison with the Jewish community, there has been little research on the Muslim community and education in Australia but Muslims have as Mograby (1984:32) describes "an accumulated heritage of distrust". Therefore, as researcher, I have been careful to acknowledge my outsider status and to ensure that the purposes of my research were clear. Zinn (1979:209) identified a number of ethical and methodological issues in relation to research in minority communities, namely inappropriate assumptions about an ethnic or religious group leading to a distorted interpretation of the group's values and beliefs, and the potentially exploitative nature of such research. For these reasons, she clearly preferred an ‘insider’ to undertake research in a minority community. But Fine (1998) questions the assumption that only women can ‘do’ gender or lesbian or gay people are the only ones who can ‘do’ sexuality. This paper intends to demonstrate that it is possible for an ‘outsider’ to undertake research within the Muslim community, while being both objective and sensitive in the collection and interpretation of data.

However, conscious of Zinn's claims (1979:211) that research by outsiders can be exploitative, I made a conscious decision at the beginning of each project to provide feedback to the Muslim community. My privileged position as a researcher and the reflected status of the University, provided ready access to significant individuals within the Australian Muslim community and overseas. In addition giving my public support for Muslim education causes via the media, I passed on copies of curricula materials, articles and contact information to Islamic schools and members of the Muslim community who expressed interest. My relationship with principals and teachers in Islamic schools continued as a dialogue between professionals working in education. Where I have been asked to speak about my research in public fora, I have invited comment on my paper or participation by Muslim informants.

As a non-Muslim outsider, my public interest in Islam opened many doors, for Muslims welcome those who show genuine interest in their religion. But I made it clear from the beginning that I was a practising Christian involved in my own religious community and not seeking to convert, and that my interest was in the education of Muslim children. Acknowledging my own religious beliefs, as in the case of Flores-Meiser (1983), was considered important. When I was interviewed by the Australian Muslim News about my research, being known as a person of faith, was seen as evidence of my empathy with Muslims. As a Christian, I did not wear hijab (head scarf) but dressed modestly in all contacts with the Muslim community and tried to be sensitive to Muslim practices such as eye contact, not shaking hands with men or telephoning during prayer times. At functions attended by both men and women I tended to stand or sit close to the boundary between them. I continued to wear the cross I have worn for years. Unlike the experiences reported by Peshkin (1986:10) while he was studying a fundamentalist Christian school, no one tried to convert me to Islam, nor like Bullivant in his study (1978) of an Orthodox Jewish community school, did I feel any pressure to attend religious celebrations, other than weddings, although I had been invited on many occasions.

As Flores-Meiser (1983:51) experienced when researching Muslims in the Philippines, being female and Christian created a different research relationship. She was permitted to sit and converse with the men at public feasts and at the front of the mosque during Friday prayer, unlike other women in the community. Warren (1988:21) suggests that honorary maleness and foreignness facilitate cross-gender access in some cultures. Foreign women have a greater "role flexibility" (Papanek 1964:160-3) in researching in some cultures, which may provide access in some traditional societies to the "separate worlds and symbolic shelters" of women (Papanek 1982:4). On a number of occasions this role flexibility enabled me to speak with those for whom this would be haram (forbidden) for a Muslim woman, who according to Muslim convention, does not socialise with men outside her family. But in keeping with this convention, I did not initiate discussion nor ask questions, as I might have done at a non-Muslim function. For example, at a Muslim education conference, women and men were seated separately and had different areas for meals, but during the conference several times I was approached by male participants not known to me, who asked why I was there and why was I interested in Muslim education. Each provided valuable and unsolicited information or suggested potential interviewees. Being an outsider also had advantages compared with the experiences of insider Al-Khayyat (1990:10) herself an Iraqi, who found Iraqi men unwilling to answer questions and dismissive of women's opinions. The question of appropriate appearance and behaviour was raised by Mirza (1995) who faced a dilemma in dressing so that she could pass the educational gatekeepers without alienating the young women interviewed. In the end she felt she was the 'other' even in her own Asian culture. By dressing modestly but not wearing either hijab or the distinctive clothes adopted by converts to Islam, I ensured that I remained on the margins.

As a female researcher, access to Muslim women has always been comparatively easy, although in most community functions the public discourse was usually dominated by men; the women sought me out with their opinions over a cup of coffee. These informal meetings with Muslim women provided insights into their education experiences, never discussed in more public meetings and introduced me to an important female co-text to male pronouncements on hijab and single sex schools. It is important to do more than recognise the "thereness" of women in research as Loftland (1976) described the invisible presence of women, and record the women's experiences of education, since Islam values highly the role of the mother in the education of children. A female researcher provided this opportunity in Muslim communities. To ensure representation of women's opinions in my reasearch, women's groups attached to Muslim organisations were specifically sent separate questionnaires. Only once did being a female researcher seem to be a barrier when the male shop assistant in an Islamic bookshop studiously ignored all my attempts to make a purchase. In frustration eventually I left the exact money for the book, on the counter. Later discussion with a key informant suggested that as I was probably in the shop around noon. This very religious young man who had already completed his ablutions in preparation for prayer, in the prayer room attached to the bookshop, ignored me because he did not want to be polluted by contact with a woman, an experience shared with Flores-Meiser (1983).

Insider -Outsider

As the research progressed, I became a known observer (Lofland 1971:95-6) within the Muslim community, free to ask questions but also trusted by community informants. As an observer I attended Muslim education conferences, public lectures and other functions, and by invitation, events in Islamic and state schools. My field notebook and tape recorder accompanied me to all these functions but were only used with the permission of relevant participants, except on those occasions such as a lecture by a visiting American Muslim educator, when taking notes was an appropriate activity. When asked at such functions, why I was interested in the Muslim community, I always gave a truthful answer that as an educator I was interested in the education of Muslim children in Australia. This always elicited comments about Australian schools; many of which were repetitious but confirmed Muslim community concerns about the education of their children. Sometimes these casual informants expressed an opposing viewpoint to the apparent community consensus for example on Islamic schools, which were described as "having limited academic worth and preventing Muslim success in Australia". Attendance at these events enabled me to build relationships with people who became important informants but also to demonstrate my commitment to Muslims as people whose opinions I valued.

The Muslim community in recent times has suffered from prejudice and media coverage, which has been ill informed and racist. Lack of communication skills in English and a certain naiveté in coping with media demands, often results in a distortion of Muslim points of view. A significant shift from the role of clearly an ‘outsider’ to almost an ‘insider’, occurred when on a number of occasions later in the research, I acted as an advocate for the Muslim community in the media (newspapers, television and radio), by defending the Muslim community against incorrect accusations about Islamic schools. This was always done with the encouragement of one of my key informants, who told me that I was more convincing because I was not a Muslim! After these public expressions of my support of the Muslim community, informants whom I had sought to interview in one case for nearly two years initiated contact and were then prepared to talk with me. I discovered this role of advocate is a two-edged sword; opening doors within the Muslim community previously closed and subjecting me to abuse from members of the non-Muslim community. Recently, the receipt of e-mail messages, from the Australian Federation of Islamic Councils (AFIC) and overseas, as part of a list of ‘significant Muslim contacts’ indicated that I had been incorporated into a Muslim information network. Being consulted by Muslim community members on educational and communication issues were also symbols of acceptance.

Being a person of the Book, as Muslims identify Christians and Jews, but an outsider to the Muslim community, I believe I was accepted as long as I showed respect for their beliefs. It is on this common ground, of mutual respect, as Flores-Meiser (1983:53) noted no matter how narrow, that humanity is bridged. Recognising the cultural dimensions of being a non-Muslim female researcher and accommodating communication style, research strategies and behaviour, have been important learning experiences in this research. As a cross-cultural researcher, I now have developed several roles: seeker after meaning, non-Muslim token male, advocate and to quote the lady with the abusive telephone manner "wog lover" (someone seen to support or prefer foreigners). I see myself only as a cross-cultural researcher, enriched by my contacts with the Muslim community and grateful for their generosity of spirit and time. My current research on controversial issues in the school curriculum has been facilitated by the common ground identified by both Muslim community members and myself. In a recent meeting, my involvement was explained to the other Muslim participants… "of course, she understands about these things." Yet I have never demonstrated my knowledge of Islam to any of my informants and I have always accepted their opinions and information at face value.

Since the intention of the research was to understand what kind of education the Muslim community was seeking for its children, qualitative data methods (observation, interviews, bilingual consultations, questionnaires and study of documents) were chosen. As Peshkin (1982:54) suggests, such research methods are "long term, in depth, personal, intensive and encompassing" and were essential to achieving a mutually respectful research relationship with Muslim communities. In terms of this paper however, I intend to discuss only two issues in relation to culturally appropriate methods of data collection namely bilingual consultations and the question of translation. Bilingual consultations are similar to focus groups with carefully chosen questions, which trigger discussion among participants but the discussion is conducted in the preferred language of the participants (Arabic or Turkish) with English playing a minor role. This is quite an empowering experience for those whose opinions have been rarely sought due to language barriers. Because I do not understand either Arabic or Turkish, occasionally comments in English were addressed to me, thus incorporating me into the discussion. Generally I used non-verbal communication to indicate my interest. Initially parents were issued with an open invitation (in Arabic or Turkish) through the schools, to participate in a discussion on their children’s education. Participants completed a pro-forma in their chosen language with assistance given to those with limited literacy. This provided a profile of each group in terms of highest level of education, employment prior and post migration, ages of children etc. Because of the unexpectedly large number of parents attending the first consultation, subsequent invitations were specifically targeted. Each bilingual consultation was taped with the permission of the participants, transcribed by the bilingual facilitator and a summary of the discussion of each question provided in English to the researcher, together with other significant information such as patterns of interaction and non-verbal communications. Therefore the researcher becomes an observer, with interpretation provided when necessary by an extra bilingual assistant who takes notes to supplement the audio-tape.

Observation of the process of bilingual consultations confirms that it is a highly interactive and effective means of collecting data from non-English speaking communities. Despite the order of questions, an analysis of the discussion indicated that participants in the Arabic bilingual consultations talked almost entirely about the first question (differences between schools in Australia and in their original homeland). However, due to the skills of the facilitator the participants managed to cover most of the questions in a round about manner, which is consistent with Arab discourse patterns. Although the first consultation held at "Westport" School involved both males and females, all subsequent consultations within the Muslim community were single gender to conform with Islamic practice. This ensured that participants had the opportunity to discuss more sensitive issues and were not overwhelmed or embarrassed by the presence of the opposite sex. Turkish bilingual consultations also had distinctive cultural characteristics, including heated discussion of the political power of certain Islamic groups and strong criticism of the Australian education system.

Because I was seeking the Muslim community's discourse on education and an understanding of the significance of education in Islam, the Muslim communities' values and beliefs about education effectively became the window through which to view the Australian education system. Bilingual consultation with the Muslim community or ummah are a culturally appropriate means of data collection and consistent with the cultural patterns of Islam which vests authority in the community and not in any individual or formal hierarchy. There have been a limited number of studies that have specifically included Muslim parents' attitudes to the education of their children (Brookes 1985; Hartley & Maas 1987; Osler & Hussain 1995). The cultural authenticity of Hartley & Maas’ data could be attributed to their use of focus groups rather than individual interviews. Generally parents' opinions are marginal to the public discourse on the education of Muslims and researchers (Joly 1986:2; Nielsen 1989:238) have recognised that little is known about parents' own wishes since these are rarely sought. The use of bilingual consultations therefore, provided a culturally appropriate method of accessing grassroots information from Muslims. Other studies of Muslim immigrants from similar socio-economic background have shown (Haddad & Lummis 1987; Mackie 1982) that their Islam is inseparable from the traditions of their conservative rural culture. An analysis of the data from bilingual consultations indicates that participants saw the educational needs of their children in cultural terms. This is consistent with Barazangi's study of Arab-Muslim immigrants in the USA which suggests that parents' perceptions of what is Islamic behaviour are influenced by their own cultural backgrounds. She quotes a parent "there are a few things we acquire from the culture and we mix it with religion". (Barazangi 1989:75).

Similarly, the following debate on girls-only schools highlights parental concern for traditional values, which are actually embedded in Islam -the separation of males and females at puberty- but it is discussed in terms of protecting the family from shame, a cultural value. The facilitator of this bilingual consultation, was a Lebanese teacher from "Westport" School, currently working at the school as an ethnic aide. Her role is as a cultural mediator and potentially she is very influential in relationships between the school and parents. She interrupted her occasional translation of discussion on the local primary school, to comment in English "basically they would like to send their children to a Muslim school". The original transcription of the tape ended her translation at this point but the presence of my own interpreter alerted me to a potentially different point of view. Another independent translator was used and the discussion continued as follows. A parent overheard her comment to me and said...

The need for a second translation of the tapes was highlighted by Brislin et al. (1973:33) and was undertaken, to cross check the bilingual facilitator's interpretation of the discussion. As it turned out the bilingual facilitator’s report sometimes gave a sanitised version of the discussion, rather than the actual words. At another mothers only bilingual consultation, the facilitator was hesitant to translate some comments about sex education in schools which appeared to have delivered with some passion. A second translation indicated that she was trying to impose her ideas upon the participants. This had already been alluded to in her comment in English to me about their poor education level. Even when facilitators have been trained in their specific tasks, authentic and accurate translation is a problem faced by cross-cultural researchers working in communities whose cultural values they may not share and whose language they do not understand. Translation is a very powerful tool if used correctly. Temple (1997:607) warns that researchers should be aware of the extent to which translators influence research. A taped record is therefore invaluable and only once was this not made available to me, because the Turkish parents had included a great deal of open political comment, which they feared may cause trouble if heard by what they described as "Turkish government spies". Nevertheless in cross-cultural research, informants are more likely to be honest in their own language as they do not have to grapple with unfamiliar concepts or language. In the teaching video ‘Cos school sucks miss’ (SBS 1980) an interview with a Christian Arabic-speaking mother provided exactly the opposite information in Arabic to that she had given in English. In her mother tongue she was articulate and confident; in English she provided the polite and non-controversial answers she thought the interviewer sought. Current research on controversial issues in the school curriculum, using bilingual focus groups have produced some remarkably frank discussions on issues such as sex education. Although Islam forbids the use of drugs and alcohol, parents in the bilingual focus groups expressed a strong interest in education on such topics in the school. This contradicts the perceived wisdom expressed by some school principals that parents are opposed to such education. In case I missed the point, one father sat down at the beginning of a recent focus group saying " one thing we need here is a sex education program!"

One of the advantages of finding common ground, is a greater awareness or sensitivity to how Muslims might act or how they would respond to specific situations. This awareness takes account of the diversity of Muslims in Australia but recognises that within Muslim culture there are over arching values and accepted ways of behaving. The research of Hofstede (1991) provides a useful framework for understanding patterns of behaviour. Muslim culture is collectivist rather than individualistic, and although Islam does not have a clerical hierarchy, respect and correct behaviour are valued by Muslims. Collecting data from a group rather than individuals generally reflects authentic Muslim points of view but this is invariably challenged by university ethics committee who prefer individual data collection. This of course reflects the linear and individualistic culture of most such committees.

Australian universities are also in Hall’s (1990) terms low context, valuing the printed word such as signed agreement (preferrably on letterhead) to participate as essential, whereas Muslim culture is high context valuing the relationships of trust and personal interactions more than a formal documents. Incidentally, those community members who are distrustful of outsiders often view even translated forms with suspicion. Good manners are interpreted differently according to cultural background. So if a number of people are invited to participate, all may accept to be polite, but only those who actually turn up can be considered to have consented. They would be offended to fill in a consent form, which implied that more than their presence was required. University ethics committees are rather mono-cultural and do not seem able to accept that each culture has different ways of operating. They see research interactions as a type of contract where Muslim community members see this as an act of friendship, support or recognition. No formal arrangement of sampling can accommodate a bilingual consultation in which more than 20 people want to participate because the community has something to say and some fathers have taken a day off work to be there.

Another aspect of university ethics committees’ failure to understand cross-cultural research and particularly research within the Muslim communities, is their nervousness about dealing with contentious issues. This arises out of cultural differences as to what is culturally unmentionable. A recent application included a series of carefully crafted questions for use with Arabic, Turkish and English speaking parents dealing with whether sex education and education about drugs and alcohol should be included in the curriculum. The ethics committee questioned whether these issues should be discussed in a group context. However, for Muslim parents these are burning issues, identified by my own community based research, which they believe threaten the very core of Islamic beliefs and behaviour. We found that with single sex groups, own choice of language and with the same sex facilitator, Muslim parents were most forthcoming with their opinions. No false modesty or embarrassment was evident. Yet the ethics committee still insists that participants must be informed that they can contact the executive officer if they wish to complain. There are many other examples in which the university ethics committee is unable to accept a culturally different method of research, because members appear uncomfortable with the research implications of cultural diversity

My search for common ground as the basis of my research within and with the Muslim community has been a most challenging experience. I think the months spent learning about Islamic culture and researching the immigration and settlement patterns of Muslims, served me in good stead. Perhaps the most valuable lesson I learnt was sometimes just to be there, and certainly this strategy provided much useful information. However, it was through bilingual consultations and to some extent the multilingual questionnaire to Muslim organisations (not discussed here) that I began to understand Muslim educational needs. It seems that they share so many concerns with other parents and communities. Yet their needs are often ignored or misunderstood. The Muslim community is complex and alienated from mainstream Australia because there is little common ground between them. Hopefully this research has helped create a bridge of understanding. What remains a problem, is the attitude of ethics committees to research in cross-cultural contexts. They are stranded on a mono-cultural island, which does not see diversity of opinion or research methods as a positive development.