St. Andrew's

I’ve been in Cairo for almost a month now and have been remiss for not discussing the prime reason for my stay.

The purpose of DukeEngage (at least in my eyes) is to take young, malleable students who are passionate about affecting social mobility and throw them into developing environments. As students, our job is to both study and affect change – by utilizing our classroom knowledge and pairing it with “real-life” experiences. Experience is always a superior educator over books.

Our program here serves unaccompanied Somalian refugees living in Cairo. These minors (ranging from 14-22) lack parents and the ability to return “home”. However, many of them are living with moderately affluent (Egyptian standard) families and have relatively tight-knit communities. Our students (about twenty of them) travel between 20 minutes and 1.5 hours to come to class every day, from Monday to Thursday. We teach for four hours, 10-2, with a lunch break at the halfway mark.

The St. Andrew’s Church contacted the participants for this summer program and provides for their transportation costs – as every incentive to bring these students to class is an absolute must. They are also provided lunch free of charge – either cooked by St. Andrew’s staff or tay’miyya (falafel) sandwiches purchased from a shop down the street.

My students are all delightful – Ayaan (15), Sahro (16), and Jamila (18, whose name means beautiful in Arabic). Only Ayaan speaks Arabic, while the other two (sisters in fact, as I found out only today!) speak only Somali and understand schwa schwa (a little bit of) Arabic. I am co-teaching with my fellow DukeEngager Tina Carter – who amazingly copes with my many idiosyncrasies quite marvelously.

The importance of teaching these Somalian refugees cannot be underestimated. Holding refugee status means little attention from the Egyptian government – borderline absolute denial. In many cases, it is illegal to educate refugees, and it is incredibly difficult for them to enter schools unless they are associated with a family of decent connections … and Egyptian citizenship. Our students are more than just marginalized members of society – they struggle to be even recognized as citizens. And as unaccompanied minors they are dealing with these harsh realities alone.

After teaching for only a month I have garnered a new respect for teachers. My mother is a teacher. I say is even though she stopped teaching 20 years ago (when I was born) because she continues to teach in the way she behaves. Teaching requires more than knowledge and immense patience. Even with my neophyte perspective I realize that teaching requires abandoning certain pretenses and allowing oneself to truly understand the student as an individual. Not just their intellectual abilities, but also their conditions as a human being. In other words, teaching Somalian refugees requires so much more than knowledge of the English language (which I cannot claim to any extent!). The challenge of teaching, coupled with being stuffed in a small room without any air (aside from one small fan) leads to many exhausting mornings. But at the end of the day – our work is highly rewarding.
But also frustrating, for sure, as it is so difficult to gauge our pedagogical progress on their ability to communicate effectively. We aren’t just teaching a language, but social skills and the confidence to articulate ideas and communicate effectively. This, we hope, will allow these refugees to acquire higher education and jobs, thereby improving their basic needs and conditions. Furthermore, they are constantly coping with the reality of their past trauma, and it is our hope that their experiences with young people from outside their immediate realm will give them hope that there are indeed others who care about them and who are committed to improving their lives. Transforming micro motions into macro impacts. That’s the mission of DukeEngage – in it’s ideal form.

Cheers,
Jonathan

*the shot below was taken by one of my students, Ayaan, after studying the alphabet with the pictured book.