The New Generation Teacher

By Mihayel Rabo Every father, mother, grandfather, aunt, and neighbor has a story about a teacher. Whenever the relationship between children and their teachers comes up, stories from the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s inevitably come to mind. Stories that begin with "Back in my days..." Often turn into anecdotes about military service. While some shy away from such conversations, other young people begin listening intently. Some recount heartwarming and pleasant conversations with their teachers. Others speak of the violence and beatings they endured at the teacher’s hands. Some talk about long travel distances to school and the lack of notebooks and books. Others reminisce with great pleasure and enthusiasm about their journey to school through snow and blizzards. Whenever I recall my childhood and student years, a deep sense of sorrow and melancholy fills me. The pain and hardships I experienced on the way to school and throughout my childhood come alive before my eyes. There was no school in my village during my childhood. The nearest one was in another village, a kilometer and a half away. That was in the days before central heating, natural gas, or electricity. When electricity finally arrived in my region in 1985, everyone's world changed. Every morning, we wore a cloth shoulder bag instead of a backpack. Inside it were a single notebook and a pencil. Our adhesive was the resin of apricot and almond trees. Our meals consisted of raisins, figs, and dried mulberries. We played games with hoops, rolling rubber tires, and leapfrog or Tipcat. We wore pitch-black school tunics with pristine white collars. There was a wood stove in the classroom. Every morning, we would carry one or two pieces of oak firewood with us. The student on duty—who arrived early at the school entrance—noted down the names of those who hadn't brought wood and reported them to the teacher. Speaking Zaza and Kurdish was strictly forbidden. Since we did not know Turkish, we did not know what to say. Silence was the best option. We were beaten by both the teacher and our fathers. If a teacher beat us, we assumed we must have committed an offense. The teacher was the highest authority in the village. By law, it was the muhtar (village head), but in practice the teacher was the highest authority. He was everything. Teachers were exceptionally knowledgeable and skilled. They were as knowledgeable and skilled as doctors or nurses. They possessed extensive knowledge of agriculture and animal husbandry. They grafted trees and provided great assistance to the villagers. Sometimes, they reconciled feuding parties in the village and brought blood feuds to an end. In return, the villagers took very good care of the teachers, providing them with bread, bulgur, yogurt, and milk. All free of charge. They commanded such respect and reverence that everyone trusted their words implicitly. When the teacher entered the classroom, everyone fell silent; speaking, making noise, or walking around was impossible. The teacher's word was final. The teacher was the primary source of knowledge—someone who knew what students and villagers did not, showed the right path, and was responsible for classroom order. Today, however, a vastly different profile stands before us, both in the classroom and in the community. Villagers are no longer the villagers of the past, and teachers are no longer the teachers of yesteryear. Just as students of the New Generation ask new and different questions, New Generation teachers have begun to emerge. For students, parents, and teachers alike, the old days of wood stoves are gone. There are no homes or schools without electricity. Blackboards are a thing of the past. Today, they have been replaced by highly sophisticated technology. Paved roads have replaced snowy and blocked paths. School buses have replaced walking to school. Technological products have permeated every area of education. Teachers now instruct using smart boards. Material shortages in education have become history. The only thing required is to work hard and study. Technological devices, however, hinder studying and have increased to the point of addiction. Teachers who master classroom management are busy looking for ways to cope with the children of the New Generation. These New Generation children cannot sit still; they object, refuse to sit at their desks, are never satisfied, and spend their time constantly complaining. Where a teacher's word was once law, students today have transformed into individuals who take little notice of authority. The flaws in the education system increasingly undermine the position and prestige of teachers. When we turn to the concept of the New Generation Teacher, I refer to an educator who not only utilizes modern technology but also guides the student's learning process, remains innovative, and possesses a strong humanistic approach. The New Generation teacher is student-centered. They take into account the learning pace and needs of each student. They use technology consciously, never treating it as an end in itself. Instead, they utilize digital content and interactive tools purposefully. They reject rote-learning systems, instead supporting inquiry, problem-solving, creativity, and critical thinking. They act as guides. Besides transmitting knowledge, they ensure that students access information and direct their own learning. A New Generation teacher invariably practices empathy, taking an interest not only in a student's academic success but also in their motivation and social development. They continuously self-improve, establish connections with real life, and encourage collaboration. In short: while the traditional teacher asks, "What am I going to teach?", the New Generation teacher thinks, "How can my student learn this in a meaningful and lasting way?" The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of SyriacPress.