Musings from Dar

Karibu! Welcome! Over the next 8 months i'll be living in Dar es Salaam, TZ through a fellowship program working in the education sector. this tumblr has been setup as a way for me to share some of my experiences and thoughts while here. i hope that it also serves as a place for discussing issues around development and education. Asante Sana!

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"Photo shoot" of Dadima and Dadabapa at Deer Lake Park

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www.alimfakirani.com

I've decided to move my posts to my own personal website which means I will no longer be using Tumblr. Please visit www.alimfakirani.com to continue following my posts. Thanks! 

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On Education pt. 4 / Parker Palmer

In this post On Education, the fourth in a series, I will discuss briefly the work of Parker Palmer, a well known educationalist whose work and reputation are familiar to many in the field. 

Parker Palmer is keen on focusing on the teacher and her/his role within the class. Palmer is a fantastic author. The eloquence with which he pens his most famous work The Courage to Teach strikes the reader with the immense beauty that is involved in educating our youth. He captures marvelously the feelings and thoughts of many teachers as they engage in their vocation. His verses are prosaic and captivating and they make reading him a joy. His book should not only be treated solely as a treatise on teaching and education but more broadly as a work of philosophy as he captures the existential struggles that teachers (and certainly non-teachers) are bound to go through as they negotiate their identity  in the presence of Others. 

Palmer's The Courage to Teach has almost become mandatory reading for many aspiring teachers and rightly so. Ashamedly, I haven't read his work until recently, and so far, I'm still in the early stages of this opus. However, even the very first chapter struck me with the sincerity and the vulnerability of Palmer's reflections on being a teacher. His words convey with depth the inner monologue that teachers undergo as they teach. The very language he uses - "gladness," "heart," "vulnerability," "personal truth" - speaks to the very nature of how he sees teaching as a personal, inner desire that teachers must fulfill. We don't enter the field for reasons of money or fame or remembrance but because not to teach for the true teacher is akin to not fulfilling that which makes us whole.

Instead of bastardizing his work in my own language, words that would do little in conveying the beauty of his writing, I'd much rather share direct quotes from his work. At a future date, after a more thorough read, I will provide a longer and more comprehensive exposé of his work. All quotes are from the first chapter and, as I'm sure you'll see, there are gems strewn across these two dozen pages. 

The techniques I have mastered do not disappear, but neither to they suffice. Face to face with my students, only one resource is at my immediate command: my identity, my selfhood, my sense of this "I" who teaches - without which I have no sense of the "Thou" who learns...Good teaching cannot be reduced to technique; good teaching comes from the identity and integrity of the teacher p. 10

The connections made by good teachers are held not in their methods but in their hearts - meaning heart in its ancient sense, as the place where intellect and emotion and spirit and will converge in the human self p. 11

We must do something alien to academic culture: we must talk to each other about our inner lives p. 12

Identity is a moving interaction of the inner and outer forces that make me who I am, converging in the irreducible mystery of being human. p. 13

By choosing integrity, I become more whole, but wholeness does not mean perfection. It means becoming more real by acknowledging the whole of who I am. p. 13

If the work we do lacks integrity for us, then we, the work, and the people we do it with will suffer. p. 15

Teaching is a daily exercise in vulnerability. I need not reveal personal secrets to feel naked in front of a class. p. 16

Teaching is always done at the dangerous intersection of personal and public life. p. 16

As we try to connect ourselves and our subjects with our students, we make ourselves, as well as our subjects, vulnerable to indifference, judgment, ridicule. p. 17

This "self-protective" split of personhood from practice is encouraged by an academic culture that distrusts personal truth p. 17

The power of our mentors is not necessarily in the models of good teaching they gave us...Their power is in their capacity to awaken a truth within us, a truth we can reclaim years later by recalling their impact on our lives p. 21

We no longer need to use technique to mask the subjective self, as the culture of professionalism encourages us to do. Now we can use technique to manifest more fully the gift of self from which our best teaching comes. p. 24

If I can remember the inner pluralism of my own soul and the slow pace of my own self-emergence, I will be better able to serve the pluralism among my students at the pace of their young lives. p. 24

We were drawn to a body of knowledge because it shed light on our identity as well as on the world. We did not merely find a subject - the subject also found us. p. 25

My previous post On Education had to do with George Counts and his thoughts around power and education. Based on his reading, I surmized that "What you teach and how you teach, and who determines these two, is entrenched in power." To read more on this topic, click here. 

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“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.” ― Augustine of Hippo

Travel has been a big part of my life. Over the years, I've ben fortunate to travel quite a bit. Travel to me is as much a search for the self as it is an opportunity to get to know the Other. There is so much that is disclosed in the process of travel, about who we are, what we think we can tolerate when confronted with  ambiguity and the foreignness of a new place, about our capacity to learn and share with others. Travel is a wonderful opportunity for the soul to expand its transcendental dimensions, to reach higher heights and a more encompassing breadth of the world around us. 

A lot has been written about travel by much, much better writers than I. That is to be expected. We've journeyed around our planet for millennia, with travel logs dating back to centuries past still retelling the modern day reader of those historic voyages to distant and exotic lands. One example of these travel logs is Nasir Khusraw's Safarnama or 'The Book of Travels.' Written over a thousand years ago, it recounts Khusraw's 7 year journey throughout the Muslim world of the time. In it are captured his memories and recollections of the distant cities he traveled to. One section in particular is quite interesting as it deals with his impressions of a then still nascent Cairo where the Faitmid Imam-Caliphs established their dynasty and founded the city that is still inhabited to this day. To be able to understand and imagine through his words what that city must have looked like, with its high surrounding walls and gates acting as entry points for goods, people, and knowledge, with markets selling perfumes of frankincense and myrrh, dried goods, silver and copperware, the mosques and the Al-Azhar university acting as great centres of learning, with artisans and poets making Cairo the newest jewel in the Muslim world of that time.  

I bring up travel today because I was just visiting Morocco for roughly 12 days with Arzina, with a few days spent in Casablanca, a week in Marrakech and a few days out in the plains overlooking the Atlas Mountains. I bring up Khusraw's travel logs because like him, I would like to be able to recall my experience of this city in the future and to pass on this experience to others.

Morocco is a wonderful country, one I would easily go back to with the right company (I'm thinking my brother and buddy for a road trip at some point in the future). Historically vibrant but with throws of modernity all around, Morocco seems to balance somewhat well the dichotomy of where it has come from and where it is going. Casablanca is a true city, with its large wide roads, restaurants, the Corniche overlooking the Atlantic, with an overall  great city life. Marrakech is certainly a tourist trap but one that is worth falling for. The Jemma al-Fnaa square, with its cheap local food in the evenings and the winding souks that line it, the stunning architecture and the unique style of Riad homes, the confluence of old Marrakech surrounded by it's ancient city walls with the new, posh areas just outside the centre of town, these are all things that make Marrakech unique. Staying in Skoura, a small town outside the (slightly) bigger city of Ouarzazate was a stunning opportunity to lodge in an area where the Atlas mountain served as the backdrop to our quite last few days in the country. I love mountains. Their immensity baffles me and I feel small next to them. And feeling small is a great feeling, at least it is to me, when you realize the grandness of the world around you. Driving through those mountains as we were going from city to city was unforgettable. The drive was in and of itself an experience of Morocco in its own right. 

What made Morocco also special were the people. They are kind and friendly. While there, I had an opportunity to share long conversations with two  young Moroccans who seemed very hopeful for the future of their country. Their concerns were very much like my own and our conversations, exchanged in French, were truly a big part of the experience of being there.

But coming back to the broader theme of travel. I've met people here who have traveled extensively. The beauty of meeting people like this is to exchange notes and compare experiences. It's interesting to have something like that to talk about with others. In a city like Dar, with so many expats who all lead a similar transient lifestyle, it's not uncommon to meet people like you who share similar experiences and proclivities towards certain things, travel and otherwise. But travel can certainly wear a person down. I'm looking forward to planting my feet solidly on Canadian soil for a while.

Anyway, here are quotes on travel by much wiser and more eloquent people. 

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.”  ― Terry Pratchett, A Hat Full of Sky

“I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move.”  ― Robert Louis Stevenson,

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.”  ― Mark Twain,

“Now more than ever do I realize that I will never be content with a sedentary life, that I will always be haunted by thoughts of a sun-drenched elsewhere.”  ― Isabelle Eberhardt,

“Travel brings power and love back into your life.”  ― Rumi

“The traveler sees what he sees. The tourist sees what he has come to see.”  ― G.K. Chesterton

“I am not the same having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world.”  ― Mary Anne Radmacher

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Hold On, We re Going Home

Edited Dec 20, '13

Growing up, Uganda was always a land of legend and lore. The homeland of my father and my grandfather before him, Uganda has always been something spoken about with great fondness by my father’s family at our reunions. My dad and his 8 brothers and sisters grew up in Soroti, a small town north-east of  Kampala, and often my dad would share stories about how he’d play cricket on the streets or climb mango trees that grew an abundance of fruit in and around town. The sheer idea that mango trees lined the streets of his city used to excite a younger me. As he reminisced, I’d paint vivid pictures in my mind’s eye, substituting my dad in these day dreams with myself, imagining what my life would have been like playing on those streets, climbing those trees.

I recently travelled to Uganda for work, an opportunity which I was immensely thankful for, to conduct some research interviews in Kampala. While Kampala was not the city of my dad’s youth, it was, upon getting there, like being home. Kampala is a lush city, with large trees lining the streets and dotting the hills that make Kampala unique amongst its East African peers. The city throbs with people, but in all the madness, there is still some method, something that keeps the city beating even through the chaos of traffic and daily life. I was fortunate to meet family friends from Montreal who had settled in Kampala. As my friend drove me back to my hotel from Khane, he commented that traffic here is negotiated to the millimetre, never mind the inch. Cars that are seemingly set to collide with bodas (motorcycle taxis) avoid the impact at the last second, with barely a hair’s width separating their cars from the much more vulnerable motorcycle. And yet, things move along.

This coming home was a long time coming. With the dictatorship of Idi Amin, my dad’s family, and many other Asian families, were expelled from their homes and the country where they were born. My grandfather I was told had a hard time coming to terms with this mass exodus, incredulous to Idi Amin’s demands that he leave the country. Uganda was (and I think till the day he passed) his home. My dad at the time was in India where he was completing his studies when the expulsion took place, with a few of my aunts already in Canada. My grandfather, grandmother as well as my aunt and uncles were in a refugee camp in Malta before they were patriated to Canada in the 70s. My father, cut off from his family for some time, eventually made his way to Canada as well. It was because of the relationship between His Highness the Aga Khan and our then Prime Minister Pierre Elliot Trudeau that many Asian Ismailies were able to find a new home in Canada. My family established their lives here. My dad met my mom in Montreal and, very smartly, married her in Ottawa. They set up their home and built a life for their family in their new home. And while I feel that my dad has always had a sense of nostalgia for those days of his youth, much like many of us are susceptible to, I think seeing the new life that he established for his children made the plight and struggle of those intervening years between his expulsion from his homeland and his adoption by his home-land bearable.

As I drove around Kampala getting from meeting to meeting, my driver spoke about Uganda’s history, not aware of my own personal historical ties to this land. He mentioned how his father, a banker, had lost his job when Amin came into power. In the back of my mind I thought to myself, ‘Ha! That’s funny. We lost our home’ but I couldn’t begrudge him. We all lost something during this time in Uganda’s struggle. A generation was lost because of one man’s twisted fanaticism. Thousands died, many lost their jobs, the economy went bust and others lost their homes. On the whole, I know things worked out because the lives we established for ourselves in Canada became so meaningful. It was being accepted by Canada at a time of immense need and despair that made us fall in love with Canada and Canadians (believe me, it wasn’t the winters! In fact, many Ugandan refugees landed in Canada in the dead of winter, experiencing snow for the first time upon their arrival). Our transplanted community began to thrive, to make Canada their home and native land. From our diaspora, we have a senator in the Upper House with Ugandan heritage, the beloved mayor of Calgary with Ugandan ancestry, and businessmen, teachers, engineers, doctors, and philanthropists born in Uganda or to Ugandan parents.

Driving to the airport after a short two days in Kampala, I looked onto the horizon over Lake Victoria. (You might notice that water plays a key role in my contemplation). The water was the exact shade of the sky above it, reflecting it’s dull greyness so that is was impossible to distinguish where the water and the sky met at the horizon. I stared out onto the lake trying to make sense of this experience. I felt a sense of peace and belonging in Kampala. I felt that in a big way I had closed the loop on my family’s history by being there. Even if I hadn’t seen my dad’s hometown, just being on this soil, looking out over hills and streets that my dad must have looked over at my age, brought a great sense of closeness to my father and my family. I think for many of us born to a Ugandan parent, there has always been this fascination with this place. And I can understand why. 

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Yes, I do work here

You’ve been hearing a lot about Dar es Salaam the city and my experience of her. But I am of course not just here to take in the sights and sounds of this city but to also work. As you might know, I’m in TZ on a fellowship through the Aga Khan Foundation Canada, a program that’s been operating for decades and has been sending Canadians from throughout the country to different parts of the developing world. This year, 26 individuals including myself have been sent to far flung parts of the globe in countries like Kyrgyzstan, Bangladesh, and Madagascar to name a few. Each Fellow is paired with a partner agency either belonging to the larger AKDN network or other agencies like CARE. I’ve been paired with the Aga Khan University – Institute for Educational Development, a university that offers East Africa one of the most competitive M.Ed programs in the region along with providing workshops and training programs for already existing in-service teachers and conducting some interesting research in the areas of gender equity, math and science education and early childhood education.

The AKU-IED belongs within the larger umbrella of the AKDN. One of 30 AKU campuses around the world, it is staffed by very competent, devoted and professional faculty. Along with me are 3 interns working at the IED, Mimi, Shemine and Tracy, who are all here contributing to the research capacity of the university and assisting in the AKU in various ways.

I am specifically doing impact research. Using a narrative enquiry-based research approach, I’m responsible for communicating to our partners, donors, and prospective students the achievements of the IED and its graduates. I have a great job. I get to talk to people. My first interview with an alumni took place in Morogoro. Euphrasia Buchuma is a great educator. After having completed her undergraduate degree in education, she was a teacher who eventually became a District Education Officer. After graduating from the IED, she went on to become the Regional Education Officer for a very large region of Tanzania. She is now responsible for 500+ primary schools, close to a hundred secondary schools and the education of thousands of students. Those numbers, while impressive, and her promotion still don’t tell us much about the impact that her time at the IED had. But the improvement in grades, teaching methods, pedagogies used to teach math and science, and the professional development of teachers and head teachers under the IED’s outreach programs, paint a much more vivid picture. Where Euphrasia went, school improvement followed. In her own words, the IED “really wanted us to be someone and to be change agents back home. And they succeeded.”

It’s great being able to hear stories like this. Before the end of 2013, I will be going to Uganda to continue interviewing other graduates from our program and to hear their narratives and stories about their experience at the IED. Besides doing this research, I’m also busy crunching numbers, churning out quantitative data that backs up and supports the narratives that we’re harnessing.

Most recently, the director of the IED, my direct supervisor, has asked me to embark on a completely new project after seeing my work on this impact research. More broadly, she would like to apply this methodology of analyzing impact on our programs, interventions and research. I’ve now been tasked to come up with a document that allows us to measure and determine metrics and indicators that we can utilize to pinpoint other areas of successes, and yes, even shortcomings, so that we can continue to improve our programs and attract donors. This is important for the university as such donors allow a great many students to pursue their studies on scholarship and also funds lecturers and researchers at the IED to undertake some regionally and contextually important research around education.

While this is an area that I have familiarity with through my own action-based research utilized in my Master of Teaching at the Institute of Education, the skills that I am gaining here at the IED around data collection, triangulation of data sets, the use of qualitative and quantitative data, and the analysis of such data, reinforce past strengths in research. With a stack of research textbooks and papers on program evaluation and literature on monitoring & evaluation, I’m deepening a knowledge set that I know will not only be of use to the IED but to my own long term career goals.

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A Guide to Dar

Most of what I’ve been writing about, admittedly, has been rather esoteric with one post on Dar 50 years from now, another on impermanence, one on faith, and another on the AKDN. I want this post to be a little bit more practical and to give you an idea of the fun things one can do in Dar. Let’s begin.

Food

There are a lot of places one can go to satiate one’s hunger. You are likely to find any type of food that you fancy in Dar, from Chinese to Lebanese, from Mexican to Korean. Of course, these all vary in terms of value, authenticity and taste but they’re there and for the most part, quite good.

My favorite type of food to eat in Dar is without a doubt street food. I love street food. There’s just something about it that makes it taste so much better than what you would typically get at a restaurant. The two places I enjoy the most are the mishkaki stand next to work and a BBQ joint on the street I live on. Mishkaki is basically a brochette, usually made of beef (nyama) or fish (samaki) that’s flame grilled over charcoal in makeshift barbeques. The mishkaki at this place is delicious. The meat is tender and tasty. It’s usually accompanied with fries (chipsi) and kachumbari (a mix of onions and tomatoes in vinegar with some habanero thrown in for good measure). Add a Coke served in a tall glass bottle to accompany the food, and you’ve got a great meal. The cost for this? Each mishkaki stick goes for 2000 tsh (roughly a buck and half) with fries going for 1500 tsh and a drink at a little under 1000 tsh. My usual under comes to 8000 tsh, so roughly $5 CAD.

The other place I love to get food from is a street BBQ joint on the same road as my apartment. Run by an Ismaili fellow, their sekela chicken is fantastic. The word sekela means “dry” but this chicken is anything but. Juicy and moist on the inside, but crispy on the outside, coupled with naan bread or chips, accompanied by a mix of sauces and served with a cabbage salad, this meal is epic. I’ve literally had this food numerous times in the span of a single week. Slightly more expensive than my go-to mishkaki joint, it is worth every penny for such delicious food.

Now, if you want to get good food in a proper restaurant setting (the other two places mentioned above have sparse seating areas), there are a great many options to choose from. For pizza, I recommend Waterfront Café at Slipway. I wasn’t the biggest fan at first (I even made a sweeping declaration that I would never return there only to break it the next day because of Doug) but the quality of the food and service has improved markedly in the last month or so. For a lazy Sunday, whether lunching or grabbing a drink, Karambezi Café at Sea Cliff is by far one of my favorite spots. It’s certainly on the more expensive side, but the view and atmosphere make it well worth it. You could eat next door at a nice food court near the grocery store at Sea Cliff Village and then enjoy a coffee, draft beer or fresh juice at Karambezi. You can also get decent Thai food at Sala Thai, some pretty good Chinese food at Great Wall Restaurant, good Lebanese at Al-Basha in town, I even hear you can get decent sushi at Thai Khani (something I have yet to try)

In the map above, you can see Coco Beach, the Kigamboni ferry terminal as well as the coast line, and the peninsula marked by the letter 'A' at the very top. 

Beaches

Dar borders the Indian ocean so it goes without saying that there are many beaches around to enjoy. 3 come to mind in the immediate vicinity of Dar.

Coco Beach

Coco Beach is right on Dar’s peninsula. A beach by simple definition that it is surrounded by sand and water, it is unfortunately not a place where one would venture into the water. With the pollution around Dar’s shores, going into the water here is probably not a good call. However, Coco Beach is very well known for its Sun Downers, the equivalent of our Happy Hour or, au Quebec, le 5 @ 7. This place is bumping in the evenings. It’s also a place where a lot of locals will tailgate during weekends with different food vendors selling snacks and drinks alongside the beach. Now, not many muzungus (basically, white people, or any foreigner) go there and to be honest, I like it that way. It’s typically local and it is so much fun. At night, music blares from speakers and the sound of Bongo music filling the air. Shisha can be had as well and in terms of scenery, if you can’t get lost at the sight of the Indian ocean lapping the shores with the moon and stars hanging overhead, there’s something wrong, and it ain’t the location.

Bongoyo

Bongoyo was one of the first beaches I visited when I got here. Getting there is somewhat of a journey necessitating the use of a boat to get to this small island off the coast. The cost to get to the island is roughly 30,000 tsh, so it’s not the cheapest place to get to, but half the cost goes towards the park entrance fee (Bongoyo is considered to be a national park) and the other half for transport. The boat leaves from Slipway (just right of Waterfront Café) on the jetty that protrudes out in the water. You have to make sure you get there early and that you are on the first boat heading out otherwise, you’ll arrive at the island with no lounge chairs or shaded areas available. Once there, you’re basically in your own little paradise. The drinks are cheap and cold and the food is fantastic. For 10,000 tsh, you can get chipsi and a protein. I usually forgo the fries and get two seafood items for the same price, usually opting for the crab and shrimp. The crab is freshly caught and there’s just something fun about going to town on it and getting every single morsel of meat off the shell.

Kigamboni

Kigamboni refers to a region just outside of Dar. Accessible by ferry, once on the other side, you have a variety of resorts facing the beach to choose from. Getting there however is not as simple as one would like it to be. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not overly complicated but if you’re just hoping to magically show up at a beach or to get there with little effort, you’re in for a surprise. The first time I went we took Dala Dalas (the local bus system) to the ferry terminal where we disembarked and waited for the ferry. Once on the other side, we again embarked on a Dala Dala to take us to the beach. And once on the other side…let’s just say, it’s very, very busy, with people jostling to get off the boat and to get to where they need to go. There are Dala Dalas waiting roughly 200 meters or so away with a Bajaj stand not far either. So far, using Dala Dalas and the ferry, you’ve only spent 1000 tsh. Had you wanted to take a Bajaj instead of the Dala Dala, you’d of course pay slightly more. To be honest, the Bajaj is the way to go but the Dala Dala is certainly an experience, though one I wouldn’t recommend to someone new to Dar. The few times I’ve been, we went to Sunrise Resort. At every resort you’ll have to pay a small entrance fee ranging from 5000 to 10,000 tsh. Once there, you can enjoy a beautiful coastline, good drinks and decent (though not great) food.

Weekends

There are a lot of parties going on in Dar every weekend. The one I’ve enjoyed the most takes place every third Saturday of the month at a restaurant called Mediterraneo. It’s basically an all night party that doesn’t end until the sun rises the next morning. Typically, we would go there for dinner and therefore avoid the cover charge to get in which is usually 15,000 tsh. During one of these nights, we stayed up until the crack of dawn. We got there by 10:00PM and stayed long enough to see the sun rise the next morning. That was a great night. However, you have to plan your night well in order to maximize your enjoyment. The one thing you ABSOLUTELY must do before going is arranging a ride there AND back. Medi is not close to Dar. Getting there may not be too difficult, but trying to get back home at any point during the night becomes hazardous without a pre-arranged ride. We basically found a driver through a contact who would wait for us at Medi until we were ready to go home. This of course incurs a cost so take that into consideration.

Other places worth checking out are Triniti Club during the weekend at nights, House which is not too far from Triniti, Club Bilicanas in town, Maisha just off of Halle Salasie road, and Samaki Samaki in Posta/Town. Most of the music that’s played in these places are throwbacks to my by-gone days of club hopping, at least as I remember them. You hear a lot of hip-hop and bongo music which typically has a West-Indies/Caribbean feel to it. If you were ever into dancehall or soca, then the music will be reminiscent of those days when clubs use to play that genre of music. If you’re more into EDM, Medi is the place to go though the music is also a little dated but well mixed.

Bongo Music

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On Education pt. 3 / George Counts

In previous posts On Education, I spoke of Emerson’s desire to “respect the child. [To] wait and see the new product of Nature" and how "Nature loves analogies, but not repetitions,” denoting that the importance of education is in the promotion of student autonomy. Dewey through his democratic ideal suggests that “In order to have a large number of values in common, all the members of the group must have an equable opportunity to receive and to take from others.” It is through the process of educating our students that this sharing of common values between and amongst students can emerge. While Emerson finds that a child should develop a certain sense of autonomy and Dewey  sees schools as spaces for the emergence of inclusive and participatory dialogue, the reality is that our schools have institutionalized learning and rationalized its outcomes as an objective driven exercise.

This  system needs to be questioned. In his is work Dare the school build a new social order? written in 1932, George Counts provides a very critical outlook on our current educational systems. What is highly interesting about Counts is that he brings into the philosophical discussion of schools a yet seemingly missing (or perhaps not oft spoken about) componet to the  educational endeavour: power. Education is about power. What you teach and how you teach, and who determines these two, is entrenched in power.

The points Counts makes, the questions he raises, and the implications of both for teachers, come together to form a text that provides educators with a very powerful message. Counts is a proponent of, what I would call, an emancipation of teachers within schools. He believes that it rests upon the shoulders of educators to shape the direction of education. As he says: “I would merely contend that as educators we must make many choices involving the development of attitudes in boys and girls and that we should not be afraid to acknowledge the faith that is in us or mayhap the forces that compel us.”

While liberating to a large degree, his position is also problematic. First, it places a large burden of responsibility on individual teachers to “develop” certain attitudes, especially, as Counts goes on to precise, around social justice. Second, in placing this responsibility, it fundamentally raises questions around the role of the teacher. If the teacher is solely the broker of knowledge between the State and its citizens, then the teacher over steps her or his bounds in promoting a particular belief that is not part of a mandated curriculum. Counts strongly believes that “any defensible educational program must be adjusted to a particular time and place, and the degree and nature of the imposition must vary within the social situation.” But if the state in controlling this program doesn’t respond or adjust to particular situations within a given context, it falls upon the teachers, those at the front lines, most connected not only to students, but also social realties, to take up the reigns of this reform. My understanding from my reading is that while those who control educational policy perform their tasks from ivory towers, their distance from common society deludes their understanding of social realities. Moreover, those who are in positions of power in the discourse on education have a vested interest in promoting a particular educational agenda that perpetuates capitalistic and industrially based systems which our schools help to serve in their current format.  

It’s not hard to tell that Counts is very socialist and indeed Marxist in his position. Whether we agree or disagree as educators, parents, or concerned citizens with his desired role for teacher is in my belief moot. What Counts does is bring to the forefront an important understanding and analysis of our educational systems. Education is dictated by power. Like other institutions, those who desire to maintain the status quo determine the role of these institutions, including education. (Refer to Foucault for more on institutions and power). 

There is one section of his book that strikes me, especially given my area of interest around social change, pluralism, diversity and education. Counts states:

The world is changing with great rapidity; the rate of change is being accelerated constantly; the future is full of uncertainty. Consequently the individual who is to live and thrive in this world must possess an agile mind, be bound by no deep loyalties, hold all conclusions and values tentatively, and be ready on a moment’s notice to make even fundamental shifts in outlook and philosophy.

It seems to me that what Counts desires is that students  think critically and  engage socially. Now, let me articulate my position. If entrenched top-down discourses in education promote this criticality and a rationality that allows students to grapple with the changing world around them, then my job as a teacher is facilitated. However, if power structures, whether intentionally or unintentionally, neglect to promote this as a necessary component of a holistic education, than as an educator, I will step in and fill that void, not just for the sake of my students, but for the sake of my society. In order to remain authentic, I cannot blindly serve without questioning institutions that do not foster social change and critical thought. However, I recognize this to be a double edged sword. How our roles are negotiated between ourselves as educators, our students, our employers and our society is a deeply complex quagmire, but one that needs communal negotiation between various entrecnched stakeholders. 

ADDENDUM

As I think further about it, this idea of teachers teaching to their own convictions becomes even more problematic in certain subject areas. Let's set aside the teaching of religion and humanities (the area I'm most interested in) and look at science ed. In my mind, not to believe in evolution is ludicrous. I couldn't begin to understand how this would be a point of contention yet there are teachers who object to the teaching of evolutionary theory in the classroom. So again, this raises some deep questions. But perhaps it's the questions themselves, and being open to them, that should count. The answers, as I suggests, will have to be negotiated. 

[afakirani-blog]

50 years from now...

Dar es Salaam, the city of peace. It is a well deserved name. The tranquility that this setting inspires is embracing. There are very few places like it that I've been to (but that's not saying much). Its coast is one of the most beautiful I am likely to encounter. The Indian ocean laps the shores of this city to the east, with Dar's Peninsula being one of the more beautiful areas of the city. Coco Beach is a great spot that many people go to. Fun, exciting, cheap, and easily accessible, Coco hosts daily "sundowners" where locals (and a few expats) can enjoy a drink, some shisha and great tunes. Just last week, a few friends (a fellow Fellow from Kampala, my buddy living here in Dar and an old school friend from my days in London) all met up. It was, for me, a very surreal experience. Here we were, at night, our feet in the warm moist sand, the lights from the massive shipping containers dotting the horizon like artificial stars (we counted 12 ships), the full moon hanging over the ocean, its light reflected in iridescent shades off the slowly tumbling inky waves. Drink in one hand, shisha in the other, we sat talking and conversing, jumping from one conversation to another and enjoying each others company in surreal surroundings. 

It got me thinking about what this city might look like 50 years down the road, what conversations a future Dar would inspire. A city like Dar, with its natural surroundings, won't stay in this current shape for long. There will inevitably be changes to this city and to Tanzania more generally. This is inevitable. My curiosity however lies in the direction this change will take this beautiful place. As it stands, I haven't felt like there's been anything lacking in my daily life. We lose power infrequently, while the water may not be potable from the tap, it never seems to be lacking (washing cars and pavements with a hose is something you see often), locally sourced produce is plentiful, and the natural beauty of this place, in my mind, make up for any perceived or real deficiencies. Where improvement is necessary is in transportation infrastructure (those big boats need places to dock and offload and current ports are always busy, plus ground transportation is hindered by bad roads), health facilities (healthcare is an expensive thing here for most people) and a commitment to education. Of course, I realize that I speak from a place of great privilege. The daily reality for the average Tanzanian would look very different, but what I'm focusing on the potential that this place has.

With regards to education, working within a university that focuses on education (and specifically teacher training), it's interesting to see that the government, in its rhetoric and on paper at least, has shown a commitment to securing better school systems for Tanzania's youth. The funds are slowly following suite. Recently, we hosted a conference on early childhood care/education, an area where lots of resources are being diverted to. With research showing the importance of early years development, East Africa as a whole is interested in bolstering these systems. 

Which brings me back to Coco Beach. With all these changes taking place in Dar what will this city look like in a not too distant future. Will Coco Beach still be around? What will it look like? Will its charm be lost to high rise buildings and massive resorts? This place has so much potential, not only in terms of the raw resources that are provided by the land, the scenic vistas or it's perfect geographical placement as a port city, but through a population that is highly driven to improve their lot and their country. There is so much untapped potential here and what I'm learning is that people are honing in on areas of need and creating entirely new [service] sectors that will drive Tanzania forward. I am eternally optimistic about Dar's future. I'm looking forward to coming back here one day at some point just to see what this country and city makes of themselves. One things for sure, I will definitely be making a stop at Coco Beach. What will greet me upon my return, only time will tell. 

[afakirani-blog]

On Education Pt. 2 / John Dewey

In my previous post On Education, I lauded John Dewey's Democracy and Education as an important and seminal work. Originally published in 1916, his work still stands the test of time close to a hundred years later. His thinking is so far advanced it almost seems timeless. Democracy and Education is a dense work. At over 400 pages, it is quite a lot to get through. Moreover, this work emerges from a period of time where it was common to "over flourish" one's writings so that two things could occur to the reader: 1) you could potentially miss a nugget of gold in all the words and perhaps miss altogether a finer point detailed in a paragraph or a sentence or 2) you could completely misunderstand and even misinterpret what the author intended to convey in their verbose writings. I am susceptible to both these faults. Reading Dewey once is unlikely to ever be helpful and this work would certainly require multiple readings. I'm sure his will be a work that I will return to time and time again. For now, these are my impressions based on my first reading, but who knows whether based on a second reading of his work they would still stand. That is the hermeneutic struggle. 

Of the 400 plus pages, I want to focus specifically on passages that relate to what Dewey calls "The Democratic Ideal" and have selected passages from this portion of his text.

A democracy is more than a form of government; it is primarily a mode of associated living, of conjoint communicated experience. The extension in space of the number of individuals who participate in an interest so that each has to refer his own action to that of others, and to consider the action of others to give point and direction to his own, is equivalent to the breaking down of those barriers of class, race, and national territory which kept men from perceiving the full import of their activity.

Our schools are where children associate with others. As students interact with others, their actions (beliefs, ideas, hopes, etc) are understood in relation to those around them. In communicating our experiences with those around us, we are able to provide others with an understanding of who we are. It is through this discloser that we are able to live authentically as beings within a shared community. By being able to express our hopes and desires, beliefs and values, we give rise to the breakdown of conceived barriers. I strongly believe that these barriers that Dewey speaks of our born out of the ignorance that we have of others. This is a belief that is shared by many others. When we share with others, our ignorance is mitigated and our understanding flourishes.

If students are able to understand who they are in relationship with others, this would lead to the “breaking down of those barriers of class, race, and national territory.” Education according to Dewey also allows for the “recognition of mutual interests” and “freer interaction between social groups,” two elements necessary for prosperous democracies. We live in contact with others. Dewey recognized that:

“travel, economic and commercial tendencies, have at present gone far to break down external barriers; to bring peoples and classes into closer and more perceptible connection with one another. It remains for the most part to secure the intellectual and emotional significance of this physical annihilation of space.”

Our schools should face this reality by allowing us to understand the “intellectual and emotional significance” of this era of increasing migration, travel, access to news and rapid telecommunications technology. We will increasingly be in contact with others throughout our lives and should we wish to have positive encounters with them, we must first create a sense of reflective curiosity satiated by respectful dialogue. 

Dewey goes on to express how “the intermingling in the school of youth of different races, differing religions, and unlike customs creates for all a new and broader environment.” This environment found within the school is a microcosm of the environment outside the school. The demographics of our schools, with the variety of students, teachers and administrators from around the world is a mirror image of our societies at large. It is in the “intermingling” of this diversity that a new broader environment is created. It is important that within our schools we give students, and those invested in students’ long-term success, the tools to understand and engage with this “new and broader environment.” As Dewey further observed, “in many modern states and in some ancient, there is great diversity of populations, of varying languages, religions, moral codes, and traditions.” 

“In order to have a large number of values in common,” Dewey states, “all the members of the group must have an equable opportunity to receive and to take from others. There must be a large variety of shared undertakings and experiences.” If the adage E Pluribus Unum is to have any meaning in these contemporary times, then the unity that we desire from our plurality must be born out of a deeper understanding and engagement with our diversity. We must determine, through shared discourse in a space that is safe from judgement and harm, what is it that unifies us. While we may differ on some matters, what substantive traits bind us? The nature of these words were a testament to the founding principles of the United States and ring true for many other countries, their continued meaning can only be established through a deeper reflection on our present condition and certainly, through a deeper reflection on the systems that educate our youth and the future citizens of our countries. Dewey is a great place to start as we imagine and engage in the building of new systems of knowledge and fields of studies in our schools. 

[afakirani-blog]

#PassportChallenge

I’ve always admired people who are well travelled. I think it’s a huge accomplishment to be able to fill up a passport before the expiry date. I’ve met few people who’ve accomplished this. My wife was the first I’d known, asides from my uncle who had a second passport stapled to his constantly. Coming to TZ, I’ve met more and more people who’ve accomplished this feat. My passport was issued a few years ago. I have another 3 on it. I’m hoping that this is the one! I have travelled throughout Europe but I had the privilege of traveling on my Belgian passport. I still have a few pages in this one but with an impending trip to Morocco in a few months and a planned trip to Uganda, my father’s place of birth, I think I have a good chance! #passportchallenge  #welltravelled  

[afakirani-blog]

The 4 Noble Truths and The Shores of Life

I could understand why Hemingway would have sequestered himself in Havana for a period of time. While Dar is quite different from Havana in a lot of ways, it does share in common, based on my sheltered experience of Cuba, some stunning vistas typified by beautiful coastlines. While the Indian ocean and the Caribbean may be miles apart, they share a sense of the infinite as one stares over the shores towards the seemingly endless expanse of water beyond.

- Dar 

 - Cuba 

I sat there today watching the Indian ocean lap against the coast. This has been an age long relationship between Water and Earth, the ebb and flow of the waves against the seemingly immutable and unmovable coast. But as I sat watching the water recede from the crevices and cracks of the rock face I immediately realized that this dance between the ocean and earth has left permanent impressions on the latter. In the course of centuries and millennia, eons and epochs, the ocean has left its mark on the shorelines of every continent. 

And I continued sitting there and realized, that which we think is permanent, ever lasting, unchanging, stubbornly unflinching like the rock of the coastline, is bound to the rule of decay and atrophy.

When my paternal grandfather (my Dadabapa) passed away I was awaiting my departure for London a month away. I was able to stay behind with my Dad in Toronto after the funeral and I found myself driving back with him to Montreal. While we were driving, this one ginan (Ismaili hymns from the South Asian tradition) played off of one of my dad's CDs called Mal Khajina. The ginans are written in various Indic languages, mostly in Sindhi and Gujarati, neither of which I  speak nor understand (I can recommend Ali Asani's Ecstasy and Enlightenment or Aziz Esmail's A Scent of Sandalwood for more info on this tradition). But as with all music or chants or hymns, there is a poetic, melodic quality that draws you in. You may not understand the words to Ave Maria, but you know it’s special upon hearing it. This ginan struck me in a similar fashion. I asked my dad for an explanation of this Ginan and given the circumstances that brought us to Toronto, it was very, very apt. My dad went on to explain it to me while driving down the 401. 

The ginan speaks about how all the wealth that we accumulate is never truly ours. When we die, it doesn’t follow us. The palaces that we build will be swallowed up by the jungles with the passing of time. You are sleeping, deluding yourself in the belief that all things are permanent. Wake up! Wake up from your delusion and realize this Truth.

'Even the trees will swallow up your palaces.' Picture taken the ruins of Angkor Wat in 2009

This struck a chord with me but it wasn’t until I visited the ruins at Angkor Wat a few years later that I truly understood the implications of this Ginan. I stood there at the ruins observing the roots of trees encircling and engulfing a palace that had been built by the hands of man, an entire complex reclaimed by the jungles. Strikingly, between two winding roots, I saw the face of a smiling Bodhisatva statue stare back at me. The significance of this wasn’t lost on me. The Buddha taught 4 noble truths: 1) There is Suffering (Dukkha), 2) there is an origin to our suffering, 3) there is an end to suffering, and 4) there is a path to ending our suffering. The greatest thing we suffer from is the delusion of believing in our own magnitude and permanence. This, in Sanskrit, is referred to as vipariṇāma-dukkha, the desire to hold on to things that are always changing and saṃkhāra-dukkha, our dissatisfaction with the temporal nature of our existence.

  So I sat there, the Indian ocean as backdrop for my introspection, the aquamarine of the ocean meeting the pale blue of the sky, watching the ocean slowly carve at the rock. Nothing is permanent  We are nothing but waves, each one of us, colliding with the rock face. Even if we may never seem to alter the world around us, like every wave, we leave an imprint on the shores of life.

[afakirani-blog]

On Quebec and the 'Charter of Values'

The more I read the news about what’s happening in Quebec, the more I am saddened. To think that my home would hold in such contempt its own diversity and view its own citizens, its people in such low regard wounds me deeply. To think that the ruling party feels that minorities like me are a threat to the secularity of the state alienates me from my own home, from my family. Je pensais que je faussais partie de cette patrie. Que j’appartenais à ce peuple, que moi aussi je faussais partie de cette communauté. J’ai passé presque ma vie entière au Québec, 23 belles années parmi des gens que je considère mes amis. Je me suis intégrée dans cette société, non parce que c’était imposé sur moi, mais parce que cette communauté fait parti de mon âme. But to read the news of late, a lot of things have come into question.

What makes this situation worse is that while reading about the PQ’s proposed plan upsets me deeply, reading comments to these articles is gut wrenching.

“Jesus was love, healing people, healing the blind, feeding the poor. Buddha was love. Mohammed did nothing except what we see today around the world.”

For some reason, I don’t think he’s referring to the hundreds of millions who profess Islam peacefully and see it as a religion of love. Or

“go Pauline Marois !!!, finally someone could see the big picture, Canada is getting out of control with this mess called " diversity" "multiculturism" [sic.] " charter of human right" whatever you like to call it. It's a mess that what it is..unfortunally [sic.].”

Or

“Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong but a kirpan was never a religious thing and was used always to kill a foe or perceived foe, then when they were being forced to abandon their evil ways they began hiding them in their clothing and started this rumour about it being a religious item in order to continue carrying it .Now we are supposed to buy it ?” (emphasis added).

Or

“The state comes before religion and for someone who wears a headscarf that is not the case. God comes before country so, in fairness, people for whom religion comes first should not be in civic positions until such time as they are willing to make their religion secondary to the country they serve.”

 (Quotes from CBC article on Charter protests)

The last point is actually one that is most perplexing. While the former comments stem from very insidious racism and xenophobia, the last comment almost seems to be couched in a reasonable critique. Except that this person doesn’t contemplate that a religious person can be an equally patriotic one. I am a person of faith; faith in people around me, faith in a better tomorrow, faith in the face of adversity, and yes, faith in God. But I am also a Canadian, and a very proud one at that. I am also a Quebecois. And my indignation doesn't stem from being a 'religious' person, quite the contrary, it is born from my admiration for democracy and secular institutions. I don't oppose this charter as a religious person, I oppose it as a human being who sees it as an injustice to my fellow citizens. Yet why is it that people like me are always looked at so suspiciously?

I think the answer is pretty obvious. We’re just ignorant. The ignorance runs both ways. I won’t place blame on one side or the other. The truth is that minority groups might be equally ignorant of the history and the values of Quebec just as much as Quebec (in general) is ignorant about the entrenched values within these minority groups. What most don’t realize is that the peaceful existence of one within the other does not have to occur at the expense of any one group. It is equally important for those who live in (especially those who immigrate to) Quebec to understand its history, to understand the Quiet Revolution, the push for secularization and the separation of state institutions from the Catholic Church, to understand Quebec existentially, the place of French within Quebec and the importance of this distinct culture in the world. Likewise, it is of equal importance that Quebec also respects and understands why these minority groups are hurt and upset, why they hold on to these values, why they place importance on such things as veils or turbans or kippahs. For Marois to say that this charter will "unite" Quebecois is ignorant. She can't understand the hurt and the pain of those who are upset by its proposal because she doesn't belong to a group who feels under attack and marginalized. Ignorance is the most debilitating thing in any society. It is not something that we can afford especially in a world that is so interconnected.

What brings me comfort during such a sad moment is that we can overcome ignorance. We can choose to learn from one another. We can commit ourselves to appreciating the diversity that is around us. Our diversity isn’t going anywhere. It is here to stay. Whether we choose to make our diversity a source of strength or a divisive element is up to us. But the choice is ultimately ours to make. 

[afakirani-blog]

Maybe I should pick up smoking

But I won’t. I bring it up though for the following reasons. A pack of cigarettes in Dar is cheaper than a pack of gum in Montreal. Booze is cheaper in Bangkok than soda in New York. Drugs are cheaper in Central Asia than a dinner for one at McDonalds in Europe. For the traveller and especially the foreign worker in most of the developing world, it is not too difficult and quite tempting to fall into these vices. They are cheap, readily accessible, and temptation is ever present. For those who already partake in such things, availability and low cost couple to exacerbate the situation.

Cigarette’s cost so much in Canada because of heavy taxation. Here however, the government doesn't impose such high levies. Likewise, there are no heavy duties and taxes placed on alcohol. When I saw a 1L bottle of Smirnoff cost the equivalent  $10, I was, not lying, elated. But I also fell into the trap of saying, “at this price, might as well pick up a bottle of rum for good measure, you know, for the sake of variety.”

Given their accessibility, these things are easy to fall into. When a beer at a bar costs $2, even a NGO worker who’s not getting paid well (or at all) can still afford to get pretty sloshed for very cheap. Consider that you can get 3-5 pints of Guinness in Dar for the price of one highball in Vancouver. Moreover, you’re surrounded by very enabling environments. There are others at the bar drinking with you and it’s not hard finding drinking buddies who are down to down a couple of beers any given day of the week. 

In addition to cost and accessibility: self-deprecation. You’re away from home, you start to resent being so far from friends and family, you can't bear the difference in culture, you even start to dislike your work and as a result, you start hating your situation. Hate leads to the Dark Side that is excess. You decide that ‘hey, I’m stuck in this hell hole so f_ _ k it, Thug Life! I’ll pick up smoking and drink myself into a stupor.”

So ultimately, expats or anyone working/living/studying in these parts of the world should be slightly weary of falling into these habits. Yeah, it sounds paternalistic of me, and no, I’m not your father and I won’t admonish you for the choices that you make. But in all things, moderation is a beautiful thing. There are definitely nights where it’s worth just going balls-to-the-walls all out and have a great time. But those should be rarities, exceptions rather than a daily rule. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to meet up with my buddy Morgan who also happens to own a boat docked not too far from here. It's going to be a bumpy ride...

[afakirani-blog]

On Education pt. 1/ Ralph Waldo Emerson

I believe that our own experience instructs us that the secret of Education lies in respecting the pupil. It is not for you to choose what he shall know, what he shall do. It is chosen and foreordained, and he only holds the key to his own secret. By your tampering and thwarting and too much governing he may be hindered from his end and kept out of his own. Respect the child. Wait and see the new product of Nature. Nature loves analogies, but not repetitions. Respect the child. Be not too much his parent. Trespass not on his solitude.

But I hear the outcry which replies to this suggestion: – Would you verily throw up the reins of public and private discipline; would you leave the young child to the mad career of his own passions and whimsies, and call this anarchy a respect for the child’s nature? I answer, – Respect the child, respect him to the end, but also respect yourself. Be the companion of his thought, the friend of his friendship, the lover of his virtue, – but no kinsman of his sin. Let him find you so true to yourself that you are the irreconcilable hater of his vice and imperturbable slighter of his trifling.

I came across an excerpt of the above quote in John Dewey's Democracy and Education, a seminal work in every sense of the word and a must read for educators, parents, and all those concerned with education generally (my next post(s) On Education will be on this book). 

Emerson, wrote this in his Lectures and Biographical Sketches in 1863/64, a few years before Canada became, in the technical sense of the word, a country. It's amazing to think that that far back, there were people who thought (and taught) in this fashion about youth and the purpose of education. The verse that strikes me the most, "Wait and see the new product of Nature. Nature loves analogies, but not repetitions," is especially meaningful. We should educate, not to replicate, but to evolve. Relying on Enlightenment thought around Nature, this idea is especially elucidated in Rousseau's Émile. It is deeply insightful but Dewey also comments that: 

The so-called individualism of the eighteenth-century enlightenment was found to involve the notion of a society as broad as humanity, of whose progress the individual was to be the organ. But it lacked any agency for securing the development of its ideal as was evidenced in its falling back upon Nature.

Regardless of Dewey's perceived shortcomings with regards to this train of thought (and they are valid), the idea of the individual as being important and of value outside the communal (and the communal's aspirations for the individual) should be our primary concern and interest in Emerson's words. Moreover, this philosophy's idea of society being "as broad as humanity" is something that has very significant meaning in our interconnected world.  With the successive changes to educational thought, especially the reification of state educational institutions in the 19th C., the idea of the individual became subservient to larger nationalistic goals. This, again according to Dewey, was no where more apparent than in Germany with the nationalization of the school curriculum. In fact, it is perhaps no surprise that Hegel was very critical of Rousseauian thinking around education. However, it would be interesting to determine if Hegel's ideas around dialectics could be reconciled with the ideas presented by Emerson (but I would certainly need to determine the possibility of this with much further reading)

What remains impressive is that this form of "liberal" educational thinking goes back over 150 years in history. Emerson's words should serve as inspiration for parents and teachers alike. 

[afakirani-blog]

This one is from South Africa. "Let's fight this war of fear with weapons made of love." A beautiful song. A Beautiful message. 

[afakirani-blog]

A faith not questioned...

I outed myself on my post about the AKDN as being Ismaili. Now, not everyone might know about the Ismaili community so I thought I'd offer this PSA. I could provide my own understanding of who the Ismailis are but there are way better sources. The Institute of Ismaili Studies for example is a leading academic institution on the subject of Ismaili and, more broadly, Shia studies. So here is their description of who the Ismailis are. Suffice it to say, the Ismailis belong to the Shia branch of Islam and adhere to basic and central precepts therein. What makes the Ismaili community unique is their allegiance to the Imam of the Time, the hereditary descendant of Hazrat Ali (a.s), the cousin and son-in-law of the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.s), who is considered by Shias to be the first Imam and rightful successor to the Holy Prophet. Our current Imam, 49th in an uninterrupted chain of succession, His Highness Prince Karim Aga Khan IV, heads the community in spiritual matters while also providing leadership and guidance to the AKDN as its Chairman. He is also very affectionately and respectfully referred to as "HH" (His Highness) by the fellows of the AKFC.

But my admiration for the Ismaili community and for my own faith wasn't always implicit; in fact, it was born out of a lot of soul searching. Ladies and gentlemen, I have an admission to make: I was once an atheist. I don't actually have a problem admitting it though. When I was in my late teens up until my early 20s I had little admiration for religion as a whole, my own faith included. I couldn't understand how people would just buy into the mass delusion that was religion. "Haven't you read Marx? Religion is the opiate of the people!" or "If religion didn't exist, there wouldn't be so many wars!" I'd tell my parents this while sitting at the dinner table. My poor mother. And I know that my arguments were naive and somewhat under developed, but I just didn't see the benefit of religion for societies broadly. Anyway, I continued along this vein for a while. But then I started wanting to learn about religion (not my own mind you) from a more academic position so I studied Hinduism and Buddhism at McGill. That was quite mind opening. Though I didn't see the value of dogmatic belief in religion, I could appreciate why one would be academically interested in learning about religions, but always with a sense of detachment. 

I was then accepted into the Secondary Teacher Education Program and while my own atheist bent had dwindled somewhat by the time I graduated from university, I still felt very detached from my own faith. Now I'm admitting a lot, more than I thought I would have. You see, the STEP program's goal is to professionally train, to the highest of calibers, educators who would actually go on to teach about Ismaili history (and to a large extent theology) to young Ismaili youth. I felt a little disingenuous therefore when I applied and was accepted into the program. I mean, I personally didn't know where I stood in my own understanding of my faith, much less did I feel competent to teach it.

But things changed and this is how the change happened. I started realizing that for me, faith wasn't something that you professed; it was something that you acted upon. Islam teaches generosity, kindness, compassion, the existence of a common humanity. These precepts are found in many religions. But what I've always found lacking is religious people actually acting on these principles. And then you have the Aga Khan. Look, whether you see him as the spiritual leader of a Muslim community, a humanitarian, a businessman, yes, even a playboy, at the end of the day, his actions speak louder than the words of the press or that of his detractors (who exist in spades). Ultimately, he serves as an example to those around him, Ismaili or otherwise. His guidance over five decades has spurred drastic improvements for the Ismaili community around their health, education and economic security (the running joke is that at my age, you have to have a few degrees to be a 'good' Ismaili. My wife took this a little too seriously and is working on her fifth). This guidance has extended itself to the AKDN and it becomes evident how well respected he is by just looking at the 'Titles, styles and honours' section of his Wikipedia page. 

"The Aga Khan has emphasised the view of Islam as a thinking, spiritual faith, one that teaches compassion and tolerance and that upholds the dignity of man, Allah’s noblest creation. In the Shia tradition of Islam, it is the mandate of the Imam of the time to safeguard the individual’s right to personal intellectual search and to give practical expression to the ethical vision of society that the Islamic message inspires."  - From the AKDN website

  This is how I came back to my faith. I saw a great figurehead who acted in a way that was in keeping with what I felt faith and religion were truly suppose to be about. I tell my students all the time, a faith not questioned is a faith not worth having. I’m not worried about them. Faith is a strange thing. It can be fickle at times, all consuming at others. But faith is and should be dynamic and fluid. As our realties change so to does our relationship with the divine/transcendent. And for those who don’t adhere to a religious belief system, I’ll leave you with these wise words from another great spiritual leader that I truly admire, Pope Francis :

“The Lord has redeemed all of us… not just Catholics. Everyone! ‘Father, the atheists?’ Even the atheists. Everyone!...And we all have a duty to do good. And this commandment for everyone to do good, I think, is a beautiful path towards peace. If we, each doing our own part, if we do good to others, if we meet there, doing good, and we go slowly, gently, little by little, we will make that culture of encounter: we need that so much. We must meet one another doing good. ‘But I don’t believe, Father, I am an atheist!’ But do good: we will meet one another there.”

My faith inspires me to do good and whatever inspires you to do likewise, hold on to that, make that your faith, the desire to help others, to improve the human condition. In the words of the Pope,  let us make doing good a place where we can meet one another as equals, through our compassion and humanity, not to be outdone by our perceived differences, distinct credos and ancient enmities. Hazrat Imam Ali once wrote to his governor, "remember that people are of two kinds; they are either your brothers in religion or your equals in creation" and our equality, and nurturing, sustaining and creating that equality through compassion and above all things love, should take primacy over any other doctrine.