North American Educators and Schools Provide Accommodations for Muslim Students During Ramadan
By Margaux Blanchard
Mar/Apr 25
During Ramadan, in classrooms across North America, Muslim students run on nothing but faith and willpower. No snacks, no water, just sabr (patience) and a countdown to maghrib (sunset prayer). While their classmates sip on iced lattes and munch on chips, these students quietly push through lectures, group projects, and pop quizzes while fasting from dawn to dusk. For Muslim students, Ramadan is about taqwa, consciousness of God, and maintaining spiritual focus while navigating the demands of academic life.
While fasting during Ramadan, students wake up at 4:30 a.m. for suhoor (pre-dawn meal), eat half asleep, and then head back to bed only to rise again two hours later for school. By noon, hunger isn’t the main battle; it’s the fatigue that settles in after only a few hours of sleep followed by many more spent concentrating in class. In gym, fasting students often find themselves caught in a dilemma between participating in physical activities with classmates or conserving their much needed energy. Some teachers are quick to offer alternatives – study halls or lighter exercises – while others still expect laps to be run regardless of an empty stomach. It’s a balancing act between honoring faith and meeting academic expectations, one that requires personal and institutional support.
Challenges and Successes for Muslim Students during Ramadan
But Ramadan at school isn’t just about saying “no” to food. It’s also about saying “yes” to faith while praying dhuhr (midday prayer) in a quiet corner or an empty classroom. It is about dodging curious glances, and fielding questions like, “Wait, not even water?” It’s about explaining the significance of fasting without turning every classroom discussion into a theology seminar.
This consistent pattern of unique struggles Muslim students face during Ramadan hasn’t gone unnoticed. Schools are starting to catch on. Many schools now offer designated prayer spaces, flexible schedules, and cultural-awareness workshops for teachers. In Dearborn – home to the largest Arab American community – schools like Fordson High School send newsletters explaining Ramadan to parents and staff, ensuring that celebrations like Eid al-Fitr are recognized alongside Christmas and Hanukkah.
(https://www.espn.com/college-sports/highschool/news/story?id=5467167)
Despite this progress, some challenges remain. In smaller towns such as Lafayette, La., accommodations can feel more like exceptions than norms. Students often have to advocate for themselves by requesting spaces to pray or by asking for understanding when they simply can’t give 100%. Some face microaggressions like peers eating as conspicuously as possible or teachers questioning whether fasting affects their ability to perform in class.
During times of discouragement, it is important to remember that Ramadan isn’t just about the challenges; it’s also about pride. Many Muslim students see the holy month as an opportunity to share their culture and religion with classmates. Some schools, like Al-Huda School in College Park, Md., turn the month of fasting into a teaching moment, incorporating lessons about Ramadan and Islam into the curriculum. These efforts go a long way toward demystifying the practices and countering stereotypes, but they also highlight a deeper issue – why does it take seeing Muslim students struggle during Ramadan for schools to notice Islam?
The answer, for many educators, lies in policy, or the lack of it. While some cities such as Chicago and Houston have introduced guidelines for religious accommodations, others are still navigating these waters without clear direction. Teachers, often left to make decisions without institutional support or advice, rely on their own understanding or misunderstanding of Ramadan, leading to inconsistent and sometimes problematic practices. For their part, the students themselves are often the ones having to repeatedly explain their practices to teachers and peers, turning their personal spiritual journey into a public discussion.
Even in schools that make accommodations, there’s an underlying tension – how much flexibility is too much? At what point does inclusivity become favoritism? While most schools are moving toward inclusion, some are still grappling with the idea that accommodating religious practices doesn’t mean endorsing them.
For Muslim students, however, the need is clear. Ramadan isn’t just a month of fasting; it’s a deeply personal, spiritual journey that doesn’t pause for exams, essays, or gym class. As schools continue to diversify, the question isn’t whether they should adapt, but how quickly and how thoughtfully they can rise to meet the moment.
Policy Priorities in Diverse School Settings
In Toronto, where multiculturalism is sewn into the city’s fabric, some schools are at the forefront of accommodating Ramadan observances. Teacher Zara Malik at Valley Park Middle School in Toronto described how designated prayer rooms felt like sanctuaries during busy school days. “We pushed for it and now we have this space where we don’t feel like we’re interrupting anyone’s schedule just to practice our faith,” she said.
Teachers in these schools are proactive, allowing students to reschedule tests or assignments. But inclusivity isn’t always seamless. Toronto educator Diana Andrews, a history teacher at Lawrence Heights Public School, admitted that the learning curve is steep. “The first year, we weren’t prepared,” Andrews said. “We had students falling asleep in class and skipping gym without explanation. Now we know better. We give options for lighter activities in PE and plan tests with flexibility in mind.”
In Dearborn, inclusivity is less about building awareness and more about refining practices. Schools in Dearborn have long embraced prayer rooms and adjusted schedules for Muslim students, but administrators are now experimenting with more structured approaches.
“We don’t just accommodate anymore,” said Principal Hadiya Al-Khatib of Crestwood Preparatory College in Toronto. “We integrate.” She pointed to events like Ramadan-themed assemblies and iftars hosted on campus as examples of efforts to create a sense of belonging. “The goal is to make students feel seen, not just tolerated,” she said.
In rural areas where Muslim populations are smaller and less visible, change is slower but no less significant. For example, in Montana, educators are learning to adapt in real time. Emily Rogers, principal of West High School in Billings, Mt., admitted she hadn’t heard of Ramadan until a student brought it up. “We’re playing catch-up,” she said, “but we’ve turned a storage closet into a prayer room, and our PE teacher now offers students the option to sit out certain activities. It’s baby steps, but we’re getting there.”
For some students in schools with a smaller Muslim population, accommodations have been life changing. Amina Yusuf, a junior in a rural Kansas high school, shared how difficult her first Ramadan as a freshman at school had been. “There was nowhere to pray, and lunchtime was the worst,” she said. “I’d just sit in the library, alone.”
After her parents met with the administration, the school created a quiet room and encouraged teachers to let fasting students take breaks if needed. “It’s not perfect but I don’t feel invisible anymore,” Yusuf said.
Policy changes played a big role in this shift. Some districts issued formal guidelines, encouraging teachers to offer flexible deadlines and adjust schedules during Ramadan. In California, schools are providing cultural competency training for staff, ensuring teachers understand not just the basics of Ramadan but the deeper significance it holds for Muslim students. Educators are often the driving force behind these efforts.
Priya Patel, a math teacher at Stuyvesant High School in New York City, set up a Ramadan resource table in the staff room. “I printed out a cheat sheet explaining the basics – fasting, prayer, Eid – and it sparked conversations,” she said. “Teachers started asking questions instead of making assumptions.”
Policies and practices can only go so far without buy-in from students and parents. Several administrators stressed the importance of open communication, encouraging families to voice their needs without hesitation. (https://ospi.k12.wa.us/policy-funding/equity-and-civil-rights/information-families-civil-rights-washington-schools/religion-schools) In one case, a parent in Fort Cavazos, Tex., worked with the PTA to host a Ramadan Awareness Night, which included a mock iftar for teachers and classmates. (https://www.army.mil/article/275278/iftar_provides_community_connection) These efforts underscore a broader cultural shift in schools from simply acknowledging religious diversity to actively creating environments where it can thrive.
Incremental Change Still Has an Impact
There is still a long way to go. Some students still struggle to explain their faith and traditions to their peers, and not every school has the resources to implement changes quickly. One theme emerged repeatedly: change often begins with a single conversation.
“It all started when a student asked if they could have a quiet space to pray,” Patel said. “That small question sparked bigger changes in how we approach accommodations for Ramadan. Sometimes, change begins with something as simple as asking.” Whether it’s a student asking for a prayer space, a teacher offering flexibility during exams, or a principal turning a supply closet into a quiet refuge, small steps are adding up to create more inclusive learning environments.
As schools continue to evolve, their responses to Ramadan may serve as a litmus test for their broader commitment to equity and inclusion. With each adjustment and accommodation, the message grows louder: faith and education don’t have to exist in separate worlds. They can – and should – thrive together.
Margaux Blanchard is a freelance journalist based in Canada.
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