Monday 25 October 2010

نوي ژوند يــو نـــوې خوږ داستان دے

I share a verse dedicated to my nephew whom I think the world of. May Allah keep him in care, prosperity and happiness. Ameen. Written by Feroz Afridi, especially at my request. Dera Manana Feroz Mashra!.


ما چې کله اوريدلې دا نويــــــــــد دے

چې واده د ګران باچا عاصم رشيد دے

زړه مې ډير زيات دے خوشحاله بې حسابه

لکه زيـــرې په روژه پســــې د عيد دے

دا د نوي ژوند يــو نـــوې خوږ داستان دے

چې د نوې ژوند په خپلو کښې وعيد دے

زما ټولې دعاګانـــــــــــــــــې ورسره دي

چې د کور د خوشحالو په کښې تجديد دے

د باچــــــا نو کورنـــــــــــئ دي وي اباده

نن باچــــا ت
ـــور خــــان پکښې سعيد دے
Tor_Khan تور خان

Friday 15 October 2010

The Struggle


I was visited in school today by a gentleman called Ayedh Al Tamemi whom I mention here because I worked with him for a key part of last year in an advisory capacity. I was responsible for coaching and mentoring him as he worked his way through his first year in teaching. He represents, in many ways, the 'new' face of education in public schools here in the UAE. Forward thinking, experimental, adaptable and ambitious.

This sets Ayedh apart from other teachers, mostly expat Arabs (from poorer backgrounds), who make up the bulk of the system. Ayedh, whilst still growing as an educator, asked me to write him a recommendation so that he could eventually enrol on a Masters in Educational Leadership in New York. Paid in full by ADEC, whilst he will retain his teaching salary. Way to go! I only wish my MA was paid for in the same way and I got to travel. Sounds envious, but I speak here of the wider investment in people both small and on a global scale.

It's difficult for the other teachers in the UAE public system to raise their own motivation levels. Apart from being ill-prepared, their motivations cannot be the same as Emiratis, since they have less stake in the system. Laziness and apathy is only part of it - mostly expat teachers are on the fringes, dis-empowered and unable to affect change within. They are largely unsupported, have fewer opportunities for professional development and cannot grow roots within the UAE because of the expat set-up.

Public schools, here, are on the whole, poor and the process of change is hindered by these very obstacles. Give people a stake - a reason -  and watch desire to see students achieve and professional commitment rise. As an advisor in schools and as a chalkface educator I have long recognised this struggle. It starts with teachers who are happy, supported and appropriately challenged; not with hurdles, bureaucracy, unrealistic expectations, inadequate resources and no clear sense of hope for tomorrow.

Whilst education costs because it requires financial commitment, it should not be at the cost of the individuals who educate.

Sunday 10 October 2010

Pearl Rain; Fountain Tears

ستا د سترګو بلا واخلم
Sta Da Stergo Bala Wakhlam
امان الله سيلاب ساپی


This naghma was recorded by Ustad Awal Mir and remains amongst the classics in Pashto poetry and music. My favourite lines inspired the title to this posting.



داباران د ملغلرو كه د اوښكو فوارې دي
Da Baran Da Malghalaroy
Ka Da Ukhko Fuwarai De
Pearl Rain: Fountain Tears

Credits for the tablet design to Aftab Yusufzai
Tor_Khan تور خان

Friday 1 October 2010

Reflection and Introspection

Here in the UAE, we have the largest population of Pashtoons outside their homelands - Pakistan and Afghanistan, so everyday, I see plenty of people who are, as they say, rather familiar.

However, of late, I have found some things a challenge - separation from those you love and care about is foremost. There is something of a kind of hollowness to some parts of the day. Mealtimes for instance. 

It isn't the first time that I have been 'forced' to work away. In fact most of the Pashtoon guest workers here in the Gulf live just that kind of existence. They live, several men to a room, toiling their shifts to feed their families at home. Over Eid, for instance, I had that experience. I visited a cousin in Sharjah and had a couple of beautifully restful days, listening to people in their deira which serves as a hujra and enjoying their melmastiya. I met with my mother's first cousin (an uncle) and my great-grandfather's grandson, which of course would also make him, in the Pashtoon tapestry of things, an uncle.

I know that I am lucky. I belong to a slightly different social demographic so my 'struggle' is much more comfortable. Still, the heart is cruel.

There are aspects to my job that I very much find positive. I feel that I give and gain trust, but there are constant hurdles which slow down my aspirations.The hours are long and this leaves me less downtime - so here's my criticism - education which is supposed to bring hope and inspiration can end up bleeding that very hope and inspiration of those who work so tirelessly to make it bear fruit. I find myself in that place. 

I have learned a lot this past year and whilst I'm not sure of what happens next, I feel change. It is not yet winter and here I am, at a crossroads, looking, left, right, forwards, backwards and introspectively. 
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