Zeynəb

Please introduce yourself briefly.

My name is Zeynəb, I’m 55. I’m from the village of Qaratəhlə; I was born here and grew up here. Now I’m a teacher at the village school; I teach Azerbaijani language and literature. Interestingly, the school where I teach now is the very school I studied at. I now teach in the classrooms where I once sat as a pupil.

What were your childhood and school years like?

I spent my whole childhood in the village. The village was more crowded then; every house had five or six children. The classrooms at school were full; there weren’t enough desks.

I loved studying from a young age. Literature lessons were my favourite. I’d learn poems by heart, I’d read stories over and over again. We had a teacher, no longer with us, who taught us the value of words. That’s probably exactly why I became a teacher myself.

Why did you want to become a teacher in particular?

To be honest, no other profession even crossed my mind. It seemed to me that the most wonderful job in the world was teaching children their own language, their own literature. When you open a book and explain a poem, the children’s eyes light up. What could be better than that?

Also, back then respect for teachers was something else. In the village, a teacher was someone whose word counted. I wanted to be useful in that way too. That was the dream I set out on this path with, and I don’t regret it at all.

Where did you get your education, and how did you come to return?

I had to leave the village to get a higher education. After I finished my studies I came back to the village. Few people came back in those days; most left and stayed in the city.

I came back because I loved my village, and also because I thought: if everyone leaves and stays away, who will teach our children? Someone had to stay. I stayed. Looking at it now, I’m glad I did.

How many years have you been teaching?

I’ve been at this school for more than thirty years. I’ve taught not one generation but several. Sometimes now someone stops me in the street and says, “Teacher, don’t you recognise me? I was your pupil.” And by now their hair has gone grey too.

Some bring their own children to me and say, “I studied with you, let my son study with you too.” That makes you happy, and at the same time, seeing how time has passed, it makes you emotional.

Which subjects do you teach?

Azerbaijani language and literature. That is, I teach our own mother tongue. For me it isn’t just a subject. If the language goes, everything goes; that’s why I put my heart into this work.

Along with teaching the children grammar and writing, I introduce them to our poets and writers. I want them to know that they have a great literature, an ancient culture. A child who knows this sees themselves differently too.

What does a language give a person, in your view?

A language isn’t just a subject. When the language goes, literature goes with it, poetry goes, proverbs, folk tales, songs, all of it goes. If a child doesn’t know their own poets, doesn’t know their own tales, they’re torn from their roots.

Language is a people’s memory. When memory is lost, a person forgets who they are as well. That’s why I put my heart into this work. It’s a matter of who we are.

And what role do the family and the home play in this?

Home is the most important place. However hard I work in the classroom, if a child goes home and doesn’t speak their own language, my work stays half done. A language is learned first at home; school polishes it.

I always tell parents: speak to your child in your own language at home, read books to them, sit them down next to their grandmother. School alone can’t keep a language alive. If home and school work hand in hand, then there will be results. The home is the last fortress; if that fortress falls, things will be hard.

Do you have hope for the future?

If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have been doing this work for thirty years. There are difficulties, I don’t hide that. But every year I look at the children sitting in front of me, I see the light in their eyes, and my hope is renewed.

I have one wish: let our own language live on in this village; let the children know Georgian well and also be able to read their own poets. As long as I’m at this school, I’ll do everything I can. If even one child grows up loving their own language, then my work hasn’t been in vain.