The greatest and most elevated responsibility of teachers is to inspire students to read and not just study. Even though studying prepares students to perform well in exams, and they feel good about themselves for being ready, it is, nevertheless, besotted with reaction, not only on the part of students but often on the part of teachers.
The mentality of Kurdish educationalists, based on my experience teaching at various educational establishments and interacting with many teachers, is constructed in such a way that mostly prepares students for exams and not for life.
Preparing for exam day is deeply intertwined with judgment. When judgment replaces authentic learning, reactionary attitudes reproduce themselves around the idea of punishment and revenge. Once the spirit of retaliation supersedes the presupposition of learning from each other, hope drifts away and students become vengeful.
Reading, on the other hand, guides students to embark on a journey of self-realization and self-rediscovery. I frequently tell my students that reading in the worst case scenario can be hellish, but at the same time it can show you the means to escape. When students’ imaginations are stimulated with the hope of freeing their body and spirit and not just provoking them to obtain high marks, learning spontaneously occurs and they dig harder and dive deeper in their search for knowledge.
Imprisoning students within the boundaries of a premeditated textbook limits their natural capacity to navigate the unmapped territories of science, literature, and technology. Consequently, students avoid the responsibility to explore and invent, which are two decisive characteristic features of successful students.
One of the most demanding tasks of teaching at Kurdish universities is to convince students to read the original words of the authors. I have been attempting to persuade my students to firstly read the plays, novels, and the authentic books that they have to read rather than uncritically depend on the summaries of others.
Truthfully, hand-outs have replaced books and ready-made PowerPoint Presentations that are easily accessible online have made students quite irresponsible. Students, instead of jotting down notes and reinvigorate their writing skills, use mobile phones to record lectures.
In addition, one of the main issues with the six-month Pedagogical Training Course (which is supervised by the Kurdistan Regional Government’s Ministry of Higher Education and Scientific Research) for university lecturers is the excessive reliance of lecturers on online programs, despite the lecturer’s approachability and communicative methodology.
The first module of the course was heavily dependent on the internet, whereas paradoxically the internet connection was extremely poor and almost completely unavailable. Edmodo, Qiqqa, Google Classroom, Prezi, and other educational facilities are useful as long as they are restricted and do not take away students’ time to interact with letters, taste words, smell sentences, touch paragraphs, see essays, and hear voices that are produced by their own fellow classmates and teachers. Clicking on an icon to download a book will never replace the uplifting power of holding it.
Artificial teaching can never replace natural interaction. A student without hope is the production of a teacher without a message. Hopeless students are the direct manifestation of teachers who do not generate enough educational guidelines, emotional energy, and academic creativity to engage them naturally.
At the beginning of my lectures, I regularly dedicate five to ten minutes asking about their psychological status, health conditions, spiritual readiness, and by presenting a piece of a tutorial or a joke or writing a proverb on the board. Once they send out sings of comfort and that they are both mentally and psychological ready, I supervise their assignments and workload.
Starting the lecture with a quiz is probably the worst idea. Checking their homework from the beginning is dysfunctional. Both disengage students. A disengaged student is also a heartbroken and marginalized student. I usually make sure that my students feel secure; then, I start wrapping up the key notes of the previous lecture.
We teachers are not certain about the future of our own lives and that validates the argument that we should not steal our students’ present moment by bombarding them with unnecessary obligations that are neither functional nor beneficial. When students are detached, they feel useless and despise themselves and the teacher. Thus, they do not consider themselves as a member of the family – let alone a hopeful member.
University life is full of suffering, isolation, and depression partly because students are hyper-sensitive and want to be presentable, likeable, and accepted by their teachers and classmates. Furthermore, financial issues, not having trustworthy friends to rely on, insufficiency of qualified teachers, and being forced to deal with loads of useless assignments are usually unbearable and agonizing.
A word synonymous with life is suffering. I usually argue with my students that reading may not rescue you all the time from the anxieties of unemployment, but it can soothe your pains and make you suffer less. I am fortunate to have been given the opportunity to spend most of my free time with books. I have learned how to absorb the magnificent ideas of many great authors and philosophers and share them with my surroundings and my students in particular.
A good teacher teaches students to study in order to pass the exams, but a great teacher teaches students to read so that they can make the world a better place to live in. And that should be the greatest responsibility of all teachers.
I have always refused to reduce my students’ capabilities, skills, and talents to assignments or homework despite some sort of administrative regulations and bureaucratic routines which I believe are outdated. An exam neither defines a student’s character, nor their future. The very moment the teacher starts monopolizing students’ sense of individuality and creativity by threatening them with marks, they become disenchanted. It is easier to build a bridge than to regain the trust of a disenchanted student.
Overall, a student who has developed the love of reading would accept failure as a natural consequence of not trying their best and eventually learns from it and that is the cornerstone of being a responsible individual which will nevertheless bring about willpower and hope for a better now and a brighter future.
Aras Ahmed Mhamad is a writer and teacher at the University of Sulaimani's Language and Culture Centre.
The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Rudaw.
