Agadir, Morocco
Hassan Akhyat is a private high school teacher. He got his BA from the department of English at Ibn Zohr University. He conducted a research paper on “Moroccan culture and Language Humor “(SOUSS as a case study). He is currently teaching Business English in a private center, Dchaira. Most of his writings take the form of short stories, poems, and articles. Teaching is his passion.
The feelings that never make me let go of
the teaching profession are indescribable,
unique and cannot be told. It has always been the noble feeling and boiling
desire inside my heart. I never believed one day I would distance myself from
the practice of imparting knowledge inside the hearts of pupils. I never
thought something one day would cross my way and spoil the idea of having
myself inside the classroom moving from row to another row communicating the
things for which I lost the youth of my age at university and the flower of my
heart at primary school and high school.
I
cannot successfully mention how hard the ordeal
I went through was to gain my degrees during my
study days. It is actually not easy to let you understand how strong the ups and downs were in my
life before I finally completed my schooling career. I have never pictured my
future hope for teaching to be distorted and marginalized in all of its aspects. I could always believe there would come a time when educators around Morocco would forever be held in a high rank as respectable
agents of change, as valuable components of every glory and most importantly, as an everlasting hope for every generation to come.
Studying to end up in
a classroom one day is the springboard that never fails to push me forward. It
is the fuel that kindles the flames of determination, patience and
hard-working. To put it simple, people with flourishing stories in life didn’t make it
out of perseverance, but rather by great efforts, strong willingness and believing in
miracles. These were all
of the keys to undo the complexities. Let us agree that when life is
embodying its massive conditions, do not forget to remember outstanding
accomplishments and success afterwards.
Life is worth dying for if incredible results crop up at
the end of the day. Let us mention the fact that life is not always about roses; sometimes unexpected stumbling blocks might invade
your path. Let us always put in mind that all things are difficult before they
are easy. Therefore, these are the points we should not forget while expecting the birth of our dream or dreams.
The aforementioned ideas are reflecting the
maddening thoughts dwelling in my mind,
disturbing my peace and stealing my joy. This, in fact, translates the very
reason WHY I no longer see teaching as an enjoyable task, a professional job
and a comfortable hobby. I do not feel teaching
will remain the same passion I once welcomed with stretched-out arms after the black Thursday and massive
massacre I witnessed in some Moroccan training centers. Teaching is not
welcomed in a country where its so-called
officials frustrate their young teachers and bury them alive.
Because of so many irresponsible practices
on the state’s side, I unthinkingly believe there is no political will for
teaching to flourish and take such dimensions. The horizon from which I see teaching today is dim and invisible. In
times when we should roll up our sleeves to compete with the world for
better teaching quality, the state is
busy welcoming topless dressed singers and spending
illogical amounts of money on festivals and
trivialities. In other words, teaching is in a
real abyss. Therefore, there must be
something right in order to avoid the things that are wrong.
Thank you for sharing Si Hassan. I would like to point out that "Perseverance" is indeed "great efforts, strong willingness and believing in miracles"; not to be confused with persistence, which is only trying again and again. I'd like to share an article with you that I wrote a year ago : https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/little-things-which-make-difference-patience-ali-anthony-bell?trk=mp-author-card
ReplyDeleteThank you once again, Salam, Ali Anthony Bell