Teacher Feature

Teacher Feature

Get to know Scholar in Residence Akram Azimi

What’s your take on Philosophy?

It’s like a spinal cord that reaches its nerves into other disciplines to give them nutrients. We look at a topic from a different perspective with an unexpected or controversial lens. What we learn is not just important for a test but has ramifications for our society. By learning about other people and things, we make sense of who we are and become cognisant of the conditions that make us.

Often, weakly held beliefs structure our thinking, but we don’t assess them explicitly. It’s one thing to hold onto beliefs, but it’s another to evaluate and choose to hold onto them. The examined belief chosen by the young man is richer than the one he inherited and applied in a taken-for-granted matter.

Tell us a little about your journey to now.

I was born amidst a civil war in Afghanistan and fled to Pakistan. I saw rampant diseases and violence and learned how precious the institutions that order our society are. We’re fortunate to have democratic institutions that structure our actions to give us – at least most of us – a good chance at life.

My family moved to Australia, and I went from topping my classes to not knowing the language and failing. I was bullied, and it only took a few bullies to believe I was stupid. However, everything changed after September 11. I went from inferior to being seen as dangerous and my peers looked to me to seek vengeance.

I had this amazing teacher, Mr Bell. One day he said, ‘Do you want to come to the library? I want to teach you some history’. After six months, he said, ‘Akram, why don’t you teach these stories to kids in the history class?’. I started teaching them and discovered my value in helping others. I was no longer an outsider but somebody who could contribute.

I was hooked on learning and went to university to study science, sociology and law. Later, I did my honours in law and sociology and a PhD in sociology. I started teaching at university because I didn’t have a concrete plan other than that I was going to learn and use my knowledge for good.

You were named Young Australian of the Year in 2013. What was that like?

I went to Government House mostly to stuff my pockets full of delicious pastries. I didn’t expect to win because nobody who has pockets full of pastries expects to be winning something. The award doesn’t come with power or position but instead a pool of goodwill in the community. I travelled across Australia to speak and campaign for polio eradication and we raised millions.

During that time, I spoke at Scotch. The teachers invited me to come back a few times and I began to sit in on Head of Enrichment Sam Sterrett’s classes. After a while, he invited me to collaborate with him.

What’s at the core of what you do at Scotch?

I take current academic debates, combine the heart of the arguments and bring it to the boys in clear terms without reducing their complexity. There’s no point in teaching philosophy if it’s not controversial. There’s a reason why those academics spent their lives fighting over it.

We never put boundaries around what we teach, but the complexity must be introduced step-by-step. Ideas are only confusing if you present them in compound form. When broken down and slowly rebuilt, we achieve the same results that a high-level university class can. My students produce knowledge to persuade another human mind, not for a grade.

What’s your biggest piece of advice for young people who want to make a difference?

Consider the definition of the problem before acting. Many of our social, political and economic policies have been misdiagnosed because we don’t fully understand or critically examine them. For instance, with my students, we critique assumptions and build models that support the definition of the problem. If we don’t understand the problem, any solution we add will either do nothing or exacerbate the underlying problem.

I’m most proud of the emotional and social development I have witnessed. All the intellectual frameworks and discussions are just a gateway to personal growth. A young man with an incredibly sharp mind knows how much he can do with that mind, both good and bad, but he comes to a point where he no longer defines himself by his mind or needs to prove his cleverness.

When you’re told you’re clever all your life, you mistake that for the whole. My proudest moment is when they begin to see the whole of themselves and no longer identify with just one pot.