From Fields to Classrooms: Lessons in Hard Work and Perseverance Noureddine Boutahar

 I owe a tremendous debt to my parents for providing me with the early foundation of discipline and mindset crucial for success in life. Their guidance instilled in me the enduring values of fortitude, perseverance, hard work, and consistency. While my peers spent their summer holidays at sea or traveling the world, mine were dedicated to toiling alongside my father and uncle in the fields. Instead of modern distractions, my days were immersed in the timeless rhythms of hard labor from sunup to sundown, interspersed with the occasional simple pleasures of traditional games under the stars.

Summer in the countryside was synonymous with the arduous yet fulfilling tasks of harvesting, threshing, winnowing, and storing crops, particularly the golden grains of wheat and barley. Each morning started with delivering breakfast to the harvesters we hired at the local market (Souk) — fragrant mint tea brewed in a large kettle, accompanied by freshly baked bread and creamy butter churned from the milk of our own cows. Later, lunch was transported on muleback, featuring steaming couscous and the refreshing buttermilk, known as Ahlab in our Amazigh tongue. Served in a sturdy large juniper dish, Ahlab was shared amongst the harvesters with wooden spoons. Occasionally, an unexpected grasshopper would leap into the couscous, prompting someone to playfully but mischievously retrieve and consume it, eliciting laughter from some and disgust from others.

Yet, it was the threshing season that held the fondest memories in my heart. The threshing floor, where we worked, was a flat, outdoor surface—usually circular and coated with cow dung. Once the coating dried, we would arrange the stalks of grain on it and employ up to six animals, such as mules, mares, or horses, to tread in circles, separating the ears of grain from the stalks and loosening the grain from the husks. Typically, it was the younger ones, myself included, who were tasked with guiding these equines. This conductor would usually sing soothing occupational traditional songs while walking behind the animals. These work songs served various purposes, such as maintaining morale and keeping both the animals and ourselves engaged.

Following the threshing process, winnowing began. Broken stalks and grain were gathered and tossed into the air using pitchforks. The wind carried away the lighter chaff, while the shorter straw fell a bit farther away, and the heavier grain settled nearby. The grain could then undergo further cleaning by passing through a sieve.

Days were long and scorching, starting early and sometimes lasting late into the night. Yet amidst the toil, I cherished the rituals and etiquette. No one dared enter the threshing floor with shoes on or unwashed. Even visitors removed their footwear before stepping inside, a testament to the respect we held for our labor and the land.

Among the regular visitors were the peddlers who arrived to barter their goods for handfuls of wheat or barley. Watermelon, prickly pear, and exotic fruits not native to our region were a tantalizing sight. My mouth watered at the sight, though I frowned upon the deceptive beggars who roamed in groups, hailing from distant lands. Still, my father never turned them away empty-handed.

The blisteringly hot days seemed endless, prompting us to drink copious amounts of water from a clay pot wrapped in a damp cloth to keep it and the water inside cool, which we kept in the shade of a large nearby tree. In contrast to the usual breakfast of harcha, butter, and mint tea, my mother's lunch offerings changed daily and ran the gamut from Couscous, Tagine, Bissara, curdled milk, Moroccan Rfissa, and more.

Sometimes we worked late into the night, especially on days when the still air offered no help in winnowing the grains from the chaff and stalks. We filled sacks of grain and transported them by mule from the threshing floor to our granary. Then, we would head to the well for a refreshing cold shower, rinsing off the grain dust and sweat from a long, sweltering summer day.

At the start of the school year, I often noticed how my city classmates had smooth, callus-free hands. In contrast, mine were rough with hard calluses from heavy manual labor, along with scars and bruises. However, I was never ashamed of my workman's hands, which were a badge of my farmer's origin. Also I had been taught that people with calloused hands do not have calloused hearts.

Today, as an educator, I often share these stories with my students, admonishing them to treat school with the utmost respect, like a sacred threshing floor. I tell them that school is not merely a place you attend; within these classroom walls, generations hone essential skills such as literacy, numeracy, and critical thinking, paving the way for employment opportunities that sustain their livelihoods. I also remind them of the Roman philosopher Seneca, who wisely remarked, "Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity." That is to say, achievements are not handed out freely; they demand dedication and hard work.

 

Ten Principles of Effective Teaching: Noureddine Boutahar

 Counting down to my retirement in a few months, I find myself reflecting on the significant journey of almost four decades spent in the teaching profession, a voyage filled with moments of growth, challenges, and innumerable rewards. From the classrooms to the workshops, from colleagues to supervisors, and from Moroccan to foreign classrooms, each experience has left an indelible mark on me. Now, as I contemplate the journey ahead for today’s teachers, I feel a strong urge to offer insights geared towards enhancing their teaching practices and alleviating some of the burdens they may face – the very essence of this article.

First, love for one's vocation is of paramount importance. Lacking authentic passion for the teaching profession renders one's professional journey burdensome and devoid of fulfillment. Conversely, embracing one's calling wholeheartedly infuses vitality, dedication, and a mindset conducive to triumph. Enjoying one’s job does not only make it easy but also brings peace of mind, boosts productivity, and enhances performance. As psychologist R J Sternberg aptly posits, genuine love for one's work engenders passion, connection, commitment, and a sense of purpose, thereby fostering creativity and efficacy.

Second, Benjamin Franklin once wisely said, "If you fail to plan, you are planning to fail!" This timeless saying holds true, particularly in the field of education. Success hinges upon meticulous planning, serving not only as a roadmap but also as a tool for foreseeing potential obstacles, optimizing the resources at one’s disposal, and establishing clear objectives to steer one's path towards success. In the context of education, effective planning is vitally necessary and must be a continuous, evolving process. Each class, each school year, and each class stream possesses its own peculiarity and presents unique challenges and opportunities, necessitating a tailored approach. Therefore, consistent review and refinement of lesson plans are essential to adapt to changing circumstances and ensure progress towards successful teaching goals.

Third, in education, fostering meaningful relationships with students is indispensable. Central to this endeavor is the cultivation of mutual respect and rapport. Learning students' first names, lending a compassionate ear and a comforting shoulder, and upholding their dignity are the foundation stones for building strong bridges of connection with students, paving the way for effective teaching and learning. As child psychiatrist James Comer accurately stated, “No significant learning can occur without a significant relationship.”

Fourth, understanding generational differences also is essential in bridging the gap between educators and students. By embracing contemporary tools, media, and concerns, can help teachers not only play students at their game but also tailor their approach to resonate with the evolving needs of their pupils. The interests of Gen Xers do not necessarily align with the preferences of Gen Zs, just as the characteristics of Gen Zs do not necessarily mirror the traits of Gen Alphas. British author, speaker and international advisor on education Sir Ken Robinson reinforces this point when he warns that clinging to outdated paradigms risks alienating millions of today's youth.

Fifth, the ideal balance between permissive and authoritarian teaching style is authoritative, another hallmark of effective teaching. Embracing the traditional teaching adage of "Don't smile until Christmas," or being excessively lenient with students, are extremes that can result in discipline problems and ineffective learning outcomes. However, employing a judicious blend of firmness and empathy will certainly foster an environment of collaboration and mutual respect, one that is conducive to optimal learning and impactful teaching practices. As Aristotle keenly observed, true virtue lies in moderation, lest extremes often descend into folly - "Virtue is a mean between two vices."

Sixth, maintaining a positive attitude and distancing oneself from negativity are crucial for sustaining morale in the teaching profession. Surrounding oneself with positive influences fortifies one's resilience and resolve amidst adversity. In the classroom, the focus should be on giving one’s all, not on advocating for one’s rights or seeking revenge for society's injustices. Compartmentalizing personal biases and affiliations from the educational milieu is essential for fostering inclusivity and impartiality. Union affiliation, political party allegiance, and ideological beliefs should be left beyond the confines of the classroom.

Seventh, modeling integrity is of primary importance in teaching. This value underscores honesty, consistency, and authenticity in one’s words and deeds. Students are vigilant copycats and discerning morality police who will confront inconsistency between rhetoric and action. In Israelmore Ayivor words, “You don’t lead by what you say to them; you lead them by what they see you do. True leaders are self-leaders.”

Eighth, the gamification of learning enhances engagement and retention. We are not only homo sapiens, but homo ludens (man the player) as well. So incorporating games in one’s lessons, regardless of age group, makes learning enjoyable, easy, and engaging. For the American poet, essayist and naturalist Diane Ackerman, “Play is our brain's favorite way of learning,” because humans are not solely rational beings but also playful creatures, and play is not just a frivolous activity, but a serious and essential part of human life.

Ninth, good teachers bookend every lesson with engaging activities. Stimulating warm-up exercises capture students' interest from the start, while compelling concluding activities leave a lasting impression. Introducing elements such as riddles, jokes, proverbs, optical illusion art and so on at the start of the lesson, and concluding with engaging and practical activities that assess understanding, promote critical thinking, address misconceptions, and inspire students, all contribute to minimizing disruptions and enhancing student satisfaction.

Tenth, teaching transcends mere monetary gains; it is about making a difference in the world, earning respect, nurturing genuine connections, and molding young minds. While financial rewards may be scant in teaching, the intangible dividends – witnessing students' joy, gratitude, and success – are immeasurable. While money hold significance too, to me, there is no greater reward than inspiring a fervent love for learning in others. In the realm of teaching, it is not a matter of what one can extract from society, but rather, what one can contribute to it.

In conclusion, I hope these insights gleaned from decades of experience will serve as guiding beacons, especially for novice teachers. Since experience is the greatest teacher, it is essential to heed the wisdom of those who have walked this professional path before. School life has challenged them, tested their resolve, and propelled them to grow.

My Primary School Days: Noureddine Boutahar

The nagging million-dollar question that frequently crosses my mind is whether I was fortunate or unfortunate by not attending a Quranic School. I belong to the select few of my generation who bypassed the traditional route through a Quranic school and dove straight into the realm of government public education.

My primary educational journey in the countryside was both challenging and enriching. The nearest school, which I attended, was situated at a considerable distance from our home. Each morning, I set out alone on a nearly eight-mile trek, and gradually the crowd assembled along the way as other kids joined in. The school day was a lengthy affair, with classes beginning around eight thirty a.m. and concluding at about sixteen hours. To endure these lengthy days, my lunch was a simple yet cherished affair, reflecting the shared experiences of many children in our community. Typically, it consisted of a bottle of fragrant mint tea my mother sealed with a makeshift stopper crafted from a piece of carrot. Accompanying the tea was half a loaf of homemade bread, generously slathered with creamy, hand-churned butter from our own dairy cows. The simple but wholesome flavors of this bread-and-butter combination provided both nourishment and comfort, evoking memories of Audrey Penn's "The Kissing Hand" story, amidst a tiring and lengthy school day.

Occasionally, my mother's resourcefulness shone through, as she would enhance my lunch with the remnants of the previous night's dinner. If there were any stew with vegetable or leftover meat, she would ingeniously transform my meal by filling the bread with these succulent delights, ensuring that every bite was a taste of home and a reminder of the love and care held in her heart for me, even when I was far from the warmth of our family hearth.

Within the school, our revered teacher, Mr. Ourrach, may his soul rest in eternal peace, played a pivotal role in shaping our educational journey. This unforgettable educator, cut a striking figure with his medium height and rectangular physique. Yet, what truly caught the eye was his impeccably sleek, jet-black hair, meticulously styled in a classic side part. He exuded an air of elegance, with his attire consistently immaculate, his garments crisp, and his shoes polished to a brilliant shine. His dedication and passion for teaching left an indelible mark on the minds of all his young students. Mr. Ourrach was not just an instructor, he was a bridge between the classroom and our Moroccan heritage. In his teachings, he used Amazigh language, the native tongue of all the children in our community. Through this linguistic link, Mr. Ourrach made our Arabic and French lessons, and even mathematics, more engaging, connecting these subjects to our cultural heritage in a way that truly resonated with us to the present day.

Another distinctive trait set Mr. Ourrach apart from other educators we had heard of or encountered. He had a cane, a common tool among educators of that era in various Moroccan regions, but it remained unused for its punitive purpose and disciplinary measures. Instead, it served as a symbol of authority and respect; a quality that today's educators would describe as authoritative. It was evident to all that his true passion lay in the nurturing of young minds. He harbored a genuine affection for his students, and his enthusiasm for his profession was tangible in every lesson. This love and dedication did not go unnoticed, or unappreciated. The parents of the students, my own included, held Mr. Ourrach in high regard. Their admiration for his tireless efforts remained unwavering and genuine. He was a remarkable teacher, to say the least, always willing to go the extra mile with his students. His positive attitude to teaching epitomizes everything that a good teacher stands for. If it had not been for him, I would not have gone beyond second or third grade much like many from my generation who fell by the wayside.

Our teacher's home nestled right beside the school, seamlessly integrated into its surroundings. The tantalizing aroma of his wife's culinary creations would frequently waft through the classroom, teasing our senses and stirring our appetites. Being both his favored student and the son of cherished acquaintance, I gratefully received occasional invitations to join him for lunch.

In return for his kindness, it was common for my parents to invite Mr Ourrach and his family, often for dinner or weekend lunches. On these occasions, the dinner table was usually graced with the warmth of hospitality and the enticing aroma of Moroccan Amazigh cuisine. The culinary dishes were skillfully prepared by my mother, my grandmother and my elder sisters. Our family's free-range chickens often took center stage in dishes like Tajine, Couscous, or Marchouch. These gatherings were a testament to the deep sense of community that defined our rural way of life and to the appreciation, respect, and importance attributed to the teacher in the rural society of the sixties and seventies. To put it mildly, these shared meals were a heartfelt gesture of appreciation for the vitally important role Mr Ourrach played in our lives. They also symbolized the intricate connections among education, family, and tradition, aspects that seem to be lacking in today's dwindling culture of teacher appreciation.

The eagerly anticipated afternoon dismissal time from school was a daily highlight, and we, student, would eagerly count down the minutes until we could rush outside and join our peers in various traditional games. These moments were etched into our memories, as the school premises became a playground for our youthful enthusiasm. Whether it was spirited games of tag, stone-throwing, hopscotch, leapfrog, or the ever-thrilling hide and seek, our laughter echoed through the countryside as we embraced the freedom of play. The joy of these games lay not only in the sheer fun they provided but also in the camaraderie and bonds we established with our friends.

These moments not only provided opportunities for play, self-expression, and recreation but also served as a convenient excuse to delay returning home. The impending return home signified the beginning of a list of responsibilities and chores. Getting back early meant embarking on tasks like rounding up stray sheep, trudging to the well to fetch water, leading the horse to its watering spot, cleaning  our dirty clothes, or even collecting dry cow dung for use as fuel in the traditional cooking methods that permeated our daily lives.

Regrettably, during those years, our school had a noticeable absence of female students, a reflection of the prevailing norms and concerns of the time. The limited presence of girls was not solely a matter of choice but a response to the parental apprehensions. Concerns regarding the safety of their daughters, who spent a significant part of the day away from the protective confines of their homes, in the company of boys, were paramount for most parents. Although I have lost count of the precise number of girls within our school, I can affirm with certainty that their number remained notably diminutive, a fact which proved disheartening.

School life is often considered the most memorable phase of our existence. All of us vividly recall both our initial and final days in school, marked by tears of arrival and tears of departure, respectively. Personally, I can distinctly recollect both my first and last days at primary school. Those primary school days were the halcyon days of my life, a treasure trove of boundless joy where each moment brimmed with profound learning experiences and the warmth of cherished friendships. Every moment was embraced as an opportunity to learn, play, and savor the pure delight of childhood. As the eloquent English actress Cara Delevingne once expressed, “I wish my school days could have dragged on a little longer, or that I could go back and do it later in life.”