The great teacher and philosopher Socrates was sentenced to death for challenging the status quo. He was surrounded by his weeping students as he drank the poisonous hemlock.

His last words to his friend Crito were to sacrifice a rooster on his behalf to Asklepios, who had the power to bring humans back to life, symbolised by the crowing of the rooster each morning after the stillness of the night. He made it clear that it was not his death, but the death of the conversation he had started that would be mourned, unless it was kept alive in an everlasting cycle: “If our argument [logos] comes to an end for us and we cannot bring it back to life again.”

Today, teachers are not given hemlock, but are expected to resign at the most productive stage of their teaching skills. In the 19th century, education was institutionalised and teachers were redefined as a workforce, subject to conditions formulated for industry. Students too were, and largely continue to be, prepared for industry-based jobs. Only a select few educational institutions prepare students to develop wisdom, knowledge and understanding to make the world a better place.

It was not always so. History is filled with sages, Sufis and gurus who imparted wisdom to their students until their last breath. In our times, there have been a few who continued this tradition. The much-loved teacher Geoffrey Langlands taught well into his 90s, first at Lahore’s Aitchison and then in Chitral. Professor Abul Kalam served as Vice Chancellor of Karachi’s NED University at the age of 90. Father Geoffrey Schneider taught continuously in a Sydney school until the age of 102.

From Ancient Greece to contemporary rural India, teachers across generations have awakened minds and sustained curiosities. So why do they remain underpaid and undervalued in Pakistan?

While age does not ensure good teaching skills, the general consensus is that older teachers have a deeper understanding of the subject they teach and more nuanced teaching strategies. Their lifelong commitment to teaching provides a role model and mentorship to younger colleagues, students learn the lesson of commitment to a passion, and the prestige of an institution is raised by the presence of legendary teachers.

Teaching can be a job, a career or a calling — the last describing a desire to have a meaningful impact beyond simply earning a living. Parents are the first teachers. Lifelong learners find teachers everywhere — learning from the young, the uneducated, from life’s experiences, from books, the internet, and even chance encounters.

Playwright George Bernard Shaw said, “What we want is to see the child in pursuit of knowledge, and not knowledge in pursuit of the child.” Yet, teachers are driven by the need to share their knowledge. As Rumi put it, “Not only the thirsty seek the water, the water also seeks the thirsty.”

Inspiring teachers have been celebrated in every culture, with national and global awards, and by marking Global Teachers’ Day. Unconventional teachers have been celebrated in books that became iconic films, such as The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, To Sir With Love, Dead Poets Society and the much-loved television version of Agha Nasir’s Taleem-i-Baalighan.

Passionate teachers are found at every level of education. Ravi Raj Master is a government school teacher in Telangana state in India. He shares blogs of his inspiring teaching methods that delight his students as they solve mental challenges or discover the science of rainbows in a dusty schoolyard with a bucket of water and a piece of glass. Sanjit ‘Bunker’ Roy founded the Barefoot College in 1972, educating the illiterate and semi-literate across rural India, many of them elderly women, making them technologically self-sufficient.

One can have a grand building, uniforms, a prescribed curriculum, textbooks, classrooms and a disciplined morning assembly. Yet, an average teacher will produce average students. If none of those facilities existed, a brilliant teacher would still create brilliant students.

Considering education is the single-most significant factor in the development of a nation, teaching has been reduced to an underpaid and undervalued profession. A government teacher in Pakistan receives a fraction of the salary and perks of a deputy secretary. ‘Ghost schools’ that exist only on paper reflect the malaise.

In the words of a schoolteacher: “Teaching is ultimately an act of hope. Every time I teach a lesson, I hope it will inspire learning. Every time I intervene with a struggling student, I hope it will change the trajectory of their path.”

Durriya Kazi is a Karachi-based artist.
She may be reached at
durriyakazi1918@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, EOS, April 27th, 2025