A Four-Year Emotional Turmoil Noureddine Boutahar

Completing university and graduating from Teacher Training School marked the close of one chapter and the start of another. It was the end of an era of studies and the beginning of a professional career. With my teaching degree in hand, I knew exactly what I wanted: to earn enough to live, to travel, and enjoy life. I looked forward to the relief from exam stress, the thrill of living alone, and the satisfaction of earning my own paycheck. However, it was disappointing to step into quicksand just when I was looking forward to enjoying both my professional and personal life.
I counted the days until my appointment after graduation, confident that, as one of the top graduates, I would be posted to the city I requested: Khemisset. However, mid-September  1986, brought bitter disappointment and boiling anger. Instead of Khemisset, I was assigned to Rommani, a small agricultural town 40 miles from Rabat, technically part of Khemisset province. The prospect of working in such a remote place, after having grown accustomed to the bustle of Rabat, was both dispiriting and disheartening. 
An hour's drive from Rabat in my brother’s car brought me to a town isolated by uneven terrain, dotted with sparse, dusty neighborhoods. The houses had long lost their original color to dust and neglect. A few poor coffee shops and a handful of small shops stocked only with life's bare essentials completed the bleak picture. I found myself cursing fate and fortune, for it was neither choice nor will, but chance that had led me to this forsaken corner of the country. 
The school I was to teach at stood alone, surrounded by rugged hills and set on a dry riverbed that would flood during the rainy season. Aside from the red tiles on its roof and the sprawling park in front, the building had no distinguishing features. It was plain, nondescript, and wholly unremarkable. The large park of the school felt almost ceremonial, serving no real purpose—none of the teachers at the time owned a car. I once joked with a French teacher and friend, saying perhaps the intention was for us to park our shoes there instead.
Finding a place to live proved to be the first challenge. Housing options were limited—most homes consisted of little more than a few rooms with a toilet and a couple of water taps. No real kitchens, no bathtubs, and few electrical outlets. Rent was so high that sharing a house was the only viable option, but at the beginning of the school year, I hadn’t yet found anyone to share with. So, I rented a house on the outskirts of town and lived alone for the first two months. Eventually, I found two fellow teachers willing to split the cost of a house in the town center. Together, we shared rent, food expenses, and the inevitable frustrations of life in Rommani. 
One of those frustrations was water. We had access to running water for only two hours every other day. During those brief windows, we filled plastic bottles and buckets and would discard out most of the old water when the new supply came—a poor habit, but we had no choice. Sometimes we left the taps open overnight, hoping to wake up with filled buckets, but too often we found water pooling under our beds. Looking back, I deeply regret that careless, wasteful, and unsustainable behavior we were compelled to adopt after being dealt a bad hand. 
Another challenge was the lack of essential goods. Basic items like bananas had to be pre-ordered and paid for in advance with the grocer. We teachers even pleaded with a shopkeeper who also sold papers to set some aside for us, sometimes paying double the price. Trips to larger cities to stock up on supplies were frequent, but with no refrigerator—and barely enough salary to afford one—much of what we bought ended up wasted.
Transportation was another obstacle. Despite Rommani being only 40 miles from Rabat and 50 miles from Khemisset, getting there could be a nightmare. We often had to wait hours to catch a ride to Rabat or anywhere else, especially in the afternoons. At times, we offered taxi drivers a premium fare to reach our destination. On other occasions, we sought out gypsy cabs—unlicensed operators who, like sardines in a can, crammed more passengers into their vehicles than they were meant to hold. 
Also, Rommani lacked any form of entertainment or amenities, so I traveled to Rabat twice a week—on weekends and Wednesday afternoons—returning Thursday mornings. The routine was exhausting, time-consuming, and financially burdensome, and after nearly two months, I had to cut it down to just once a week, limiting my trips to the weekends.  I endured the monotony of small-town life, grappling with the profound emptiness and boredom of having nothing to do and nowhere to go. 
At school, I was assigned to teach four 12th-grade classes. The students were my peers, and some were even my age. Teaching without textbooks, I relied on a vague syllabus and some notes. This required an immense amount of effort to find suitable teaching materials—exercises, texts, games, tests—especially in a pre-internet, pre-cell phone era when English resources were scarce. I often visited the American bookstore and British Council in Rabat, scouring for material, which I would photocopy or even copy by hand at times, as it was difficult to take some books outside the library for photocopying. 
I taught English solely in English, without any Arabic translation. This approach was unfamiliar to my students who complained at first, but over time, they accepted and even appreciated it. As a novice teacher, I exhausted myself, talking too much, over-explaining, and striving for an unattainable perfection. The stress led to burnout, depression, and near obsessive-compulsive behavior. I eventually visited a doctor, who gave me a week off—the first of only two medical leaves I took during my 38 years in teaching. 
To make matters worse, the hardships I endured in Rommani—the constant stress, the unhealthy diet I was forced into, the water my stomach couldn’t tolerate—culminated in a painful stomach ulcer. It took nearly a year to recover, through strict dieting, rigorous treatment, and the soothing remedies of my grandmother’s herbal cures. 
I spent four monotonous years in Rommani, and things steadily worsened. My passion for reading waned, my enthusiasm for teaching faded, and I felt increasingly trapped. Unable to balance my personal desires with my professional obligations, I confided in my father and brother that if I couldn’t transfer to a larger city, I would resign. My father, ever supportive, spoke to a family friend who had considerable influence in Khemisset, and soon enough, I was transferred to Abdellah Guennoun school in Khemisset, where I would spend the remaining 34 years of my career. 
It has been 34 years since I left the Zaari town, and most of the memories I carry from that time are far from pleasant, save for the friendships I forged with fellow teachers, students, and a few locals. My experience has given me deep sympathy for teachers assigned to even more remote and isolated corners of the country, facing challenges far greater than my own, which makes my problems pale in comparison to theirs. Perhaps those hard four years were the rough sea that made me a skilled sailor. As Steve Jobs said, 'Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don’t lose faith.'

In Defence of Teachers Noureddine Boutahar

In recent times, an unsettling trend has emerged, casting a shadow upon the noble profession of teaching and eroding the integrity of educators. Detractors paint a portrait of teachers as indolent, indifferent, and driven solely by financial motives. These allegations not only lack merit but are also a distortion of reality.

Teachers, like guardians of an educational sanctum, strive for dignity, justice, and equality. Their mission transcends the boundaries of a classroom, reaching towards a vision of a Moroccan society where public schools stand as bastions of quality education and equal opportunities for all.

Teachers, akin to luminaries guiding the path from ignorance to enlightenment, go beyond the mere dissemination of facts. They toil tirelessly to nurture critical thinking and creativity in their students, sowing the seeds of ethical values grounded in justice and responsibility.

Beyond the classroom, teachers are architects of societal and economic progress. They not only elevate the standard of education and prepare students for the challenges of the job market but also actively participate in sculpting a generation of innovative and educated youth, poised to drive economic development.

Teachers, serving as exemplars of outstanding citizenship, distinguish themselves through remarkable ethical conduct. They stand out as individuals demonstrating an unparalleled commitment to integrity and are among those least prone to corruption. Not only do teachers exhibit unblemished moral character, but they are also among the least likely to engage in tax evasions. Furthermore, their steadfast adherence to legal norms surpasses that of the general populace with respect to laws and rules. By embodying these virtues, teachers go beyond the mere transmission of knowledge, becoming pillars of ethical strength that fortify the very foundation of a just and law-abiding community. 

Regrettably, in our society, teachers find themselves unfairly caricatured, labeled as miserly individuals fixated solely on strikes, protests, and salary increments. Yet, it is these very educators who have earned prestigious awards for excellence in teaching on the global stage. Their dedication surpasses the superficial criticisms, reflecting a commitment to shaping not only the minds of students but also the future of our nation.

Today's ongoing teacher strikes are indicative of enduring frustration and a loss of confidence in the ineffective and failing reforms, much like those of 1985 and 2003. Today, these educators are not asking for opulence; rather, they seek fair compensation to execute their responsibilities with utmost effectiveness. Their plea centers around securing reasonable working conditions, providing the fertile ground necessary for the cultivation of their noble profession.

In the lively dance of education, teachers are the choreographers, twirling through criticism with grace. Let's give a standing ovation to these maestros of inspiration, orchestrating a future filled with boundless potential!

 

AI is Teachers' New Bud Noureddine Boutahar

In the realm of education, there exist three distinct groups of teachers: some who find comfort in the familiarity of their established routines, some who display hesitation when it comes to embracing the unknown, and individuals like myself, who possess a natural inclination for exploring innovative approaches. These distinctions become particularly evident in the context of incorporating Artificial Intelligence (AI) into education, which is not only indispensable but also timesaving and transformative.

First of all, AI has become an indispensable part of our lives, permeating various aspects of society and reshaping our methods of work, communication, interaction with technology, as well as teaching and learning. Those who resist it today are just mirroring the mindset of the small-minded Internet Luddites from the early days of this millennium. Like it or not, Artificial Intelligence is poised to assume a central role in the field of education because it is increasingly recognized as a transformative force that can enhance teaching efficacy and learning outcomes. In education, AI plays an inexorably imperative role, rendering resistance akin to tilting at windmills and ultimately anchoring us to the past.

Secondly, AI offers vast transformative potential for language education. It stands to enhance its efficiency and effectiveness, providing language teachers with powerful tools to create more engaging and successful learning lessons for their students. AI algorithms can revolutionize teaching and learning by enabling personalized and adaptive instruction. Besides, AI-powered tools can offer instant feedback on various language aspects like pronunciation, grammar, and vocabulary, allowing students to address their weaknesses in real time. Moreover, AI can provide a wealth of resources, for both teachers and students, such as interactive language applications, chatbots, and language translation services, which make language learning more engaging and accessible. It also has the capability to collect and analyze vast amounts of data, helping teachers identify learning styles and adjust their teaching methods accordingly. Overall, and to echo George Couros, AI will not replace great teachers but it will make them more transformational.

Thirdly, AI has the potential to both save time for teachers and alleviate their time constraints. It can aid teachers in saving time by providing services like summarizing lengthy content and generating video transcripts in the blink of an eye. It can create level-relevant tests, games, and exercises in a split second. Moreover, it can adjust the formality, tone, and style of written content immediately, and address individual student requirements instantly and free teachers from the 'one size fits all' model. Additionally, AI can make lesson planning more efficient by offering the most up-to-date and insightful methods and strategies available in no time.  It can also offer thought-provoking discussion prompts for both discussions and written assignments in a heartbeat, enhancing the overall teaching experience. Is there anything on Earth that could possibly top this? Isn't it absolutely worth giving it a shot.

Fourthly, in a constantly evolving world, marked by shifting trends and evolving societal norms, it is imperative for educators to acknowledge that times change, and consequently, people change as well. To remain effective and relevant in their roles, educators should avoid isolating themselves from embracing tools and practices that have become ubiquitous in the wider community like AI. AI is increasingly asserting its influence and is poised to take the lead in the field of education, without a shadow of doubt. So, any teacher who hesitates to leverage its power is essentially failing to adapt. Any teacher who is reluctant to play students at their own game is fundamentally refusing to change. In Charles Darwin’s words, “It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent; it is the one most responsive to change.” Therefore, the ability to adapt and stay current is not merely a choice but a necessity for educators seeking to excel in their profession.

In a nutshell, AI has become the must-have superhero in the world of language teaching, swooping in to create a super fun, super accessible, and super flexible educational experience. It's a win-win for teachers and students, making learning a blast!

Teachers Give Life Noureddine Boutahar

There has been a scorched-earth campaign against teachers and public education in Morocco recently. Teacher-bashing has become a national pastime that selfish corporates have been encouraging and propagating to further hidden agendas and vested, narrow interests which are none but the privatization of the sector. In fact, blaming teachers for the failure of the Moroccan education is totally ridiculous and misplaced, and it is meant to distract us from the real causes and expedite the process of privatization.
There is not a dollop of truth to the accusation that teachers are responsible for all that ails our schools. Our education is sick because of top-down, corporate-driven, for-profit reforms. Even well-intentioned plans and projects of reform on the part of the governments have often been infected with proverbial wolves in sheep’s clothing that lurk for opportunities to wring out personal benefits. In addition to complicated corruption cases, there is the problem of privatization whose proponents are working at full throttle to take control of our national education. They spare no effort to persuade the public and policy makers that the nation’s public schools are failing - and teachers are to blame.
There is not even a modicum of truth in the allegation that teachers are responsible for the failure of our schools. Our education fails because our schools are ill-equipped, our teachers are poorly-trained, and our curricula are dull and irrelevant. For schools, most of them are really dilapidated, overcrowded, and lack appropriate equipment for both physical and educational needs – unless they call the hand-me-down scrap from China equipment. As regards teachers, they are the making of the system’s Universities and teacher training schools. So, if there is anyone to blame here, it is the system itself not the teacher-victim. Finally, our curricula have always been top-down scriptures that focus on quantity at the expense of quality. These curricula are meant to create semi-literate, malleable, and robotic citizens.
There is not a shred of truth in the claim that teachers are responsible for the deficiency of our educational system. Teachers have always gone above and beyond for their students. Many teachers routinely spend money out of their own pockets on photocopies and other supplies for their students. I know of teachers who bought clothes and school supplies for students. I know of others who painted their classrooms and fixed cracks and electrical plugs in their classrooms out of their own money. In addition, teaching not only takes a toll on teachers' pockets but also remains "the only profession where you steal supplies from home and take them to work". I think, no other professional can claim to have done so.
There is not a grain of truth in the incrimination of teachers as the cause of all Moroccan educational problems. Teaching is one of the most humane professions on earth and teachers are saints and heroes and paragons of virtue. They are the shoulder-to-cry-on for most students who bring not only their ignorance and different learning styles to school but also their fears, worries, and family struggles. Whenever there is a family problem, a death, or a tragedy, it is usually the teachers who discuss it with the children first. It is the teachers who brood them under their wings until they get over their difficult period. For this reason, teachers are obliged to know every one of their students’ names (more than a hundred each year), their learning styles, their unique personalities, their performance, their challenges etc. They play multi-faced roles including that of educators, disciplinarians, psychologists and psychiatrists, advisors, and much more.
There is not a particle of truth in the claim that teachers have it cushy. Teachers are often envied for long summer breaks and other holidays. However, there is more than meets the eye here: Teachers work 24/7 and juggle between different responsibilities. In fact, teachers work nights, days, and weekends sacrificing time with their family to correct mounds of papers, prepare lesson plans, make quizzes, tests, and exams, and do administrative work and so on. Also, teachers often have poor and disturbed sleep because they are haunted by the students they didn’t reach, the violent unruly kids they didn’t understand, and the lessons they taught wrong. In short, teachers are worn-out, over-worked, and underpaid but they keep on serving selflessly, patiently, and modestly.
There is not a seed of truth in the indictment of teachers as the root problem in education. The truth is there are great and bad teachers just as there are great and bad doctors, lawyers, politicians, businessmen and so on. So, it’s not fair to single out teachers and judge them with biased wrong standards when there is usually a bad apple in every bunch. It is undemocratic to condemn the majority with the sins of the minority. It is true that there are individuals who do not belong in education, who abuse their profession, and who misbehave, but these individuals should remain a strange anomaly and not the norm. Allowing such micro-fraction of bad teachers to cast a negative shadow on the rest is a grave injustice against this profession.
There is not an iota of truth to many of the accusations targeting teachers and public schools because they are mainly meant to manipulate public opinion to accept privatization as an antidote. However, it is worth mentioning that education is more than a right and much more than a service delivered to a consumer. Education is essential to life and nurtures the mind as food nurtures the body. So, handing it over to businessmen and foreign organizations puts the health (and mind) of Moroccan citizens in jeopardy and threatens the very existence of this country and its legacy. More to the point, teaching is the profession that makes all other professions and should be free, compulsory and accessible to everyone.
Yes, there is a jot of truth in the Minister of National Education’s statement that “good teachers are a rare commodity” because good teachers are lost in the chaos created by corruption, conspiracies, impunity, unaccountability, and other social ills that eat away at our society. There are great teachers, good teachers, and bad teachers as well. The latter have to be weeded out once the recruitment is fair and non-discriminatory, appropriate good training is afforded, working conditions are provided, salaries are raised to match teachers’ workload, and teachers are considered partners rather than adversaries.
To conclude, what we need, so far, is a radical paradigm shift in thinking about education including the way teachers are trained, treated and looked at. So, let’s start where the best performing education systems like Finland and Singapore started: high-quality pre-service and in-service training for teacher, deeply thoughtful relevant curricula, and quality teaching and learning materials. Let’s not commit such huge moral mistake of throwing our kids into the gaping mouths of businessmen because, “Democracy’s sacred mission is to protect and empower everyone equally by the provision of public resources, what we call the Public.” I rest my case.