I just completed a subject at uni on inclusive education. A big component of this was Service Learning – that is, putting theory to work in a community organisation. I was thrilled when I found out I was given my first choice – an organisation that helps high school refugee students with homework. I came out of the experience deeply challenged, with many new ideas and skills. This is a story about an encounter with one of the students after several weeks with the organisation.

Ali* was a year 8 boy who had arrived in Australia from Afghanistan less than two years ago. He wanted my help to study for a Science test on compounds, mixtures and solutions.

I judged from his familiarity with the sections of his textbook that he had already had a go at this on his own. I soon saw his enthusiasm for the subject and his willingness to do well. I clarified what he wanted from me, was it just my help in general or were there specific parts with which he needed help? He pointed to some sections of his book that he had had difficulty with, so I checked his understanding of the concepts in those sections by asking him to explain them. He knew some but needed more work on others, so I drew some pictures for him of activities he may have done in class. These jogged his memory and with some help from me with vocabulary, he was able to come up with explanations for phenomena he would be tested on. I checked whether he was happy with his understanding of the concepts he had first asked me about and he was. I directed him to answer some practice questions in the book and we went through his answers.

I observed that despite Ali’s difficulty with some vocabulary, his explanations were sophisticated and showed a deep understanding of concepts. He obviously had a passion for the subject. I asked him whether he liked Science and he said it was his favourite subject. I could see him gaining confidence in his ability as time went on. His explanations became longer and more detailed and he was taking more risks in langauge use. His voice which was originally very quiet became stronger as he became engrossed in the material.

John*, a retired chemistry lecturer, was wandering around the room asking students if they needed help with Science. As he came to Ali’s desk, Ali mumbled something about how he was studying for a Science test. John took the book away from Ali and asked him what the test was on. Ali told him, pointing to the sections in the book. John launched into a didactic lecture on solutes, solvents and mixtures, speaking very loudly and slowly.

In Afghanistan, schooling is very formal and students are not to question the teacher. This may be why Ali stayed silent, as he may have felt powerless to let John know that he already understood those concepts. John did not ask whether Ali wanted help or what he wanted help with. He did not undertake a quick assessment of Ali’s understanding before filling in any gaps that he saw. His actions encouraged Ali’s dependence upon outside help and gave Ali no credit for being an autonomous learner. John is an older man and is obviously used to the authoritarian structure of traditional schooling.

I felt very upset about this. I worried for Ali’s confidence in himself and that the hard slog of giving Ali the power in the interaction would be undone.

John’s belief of “the refugee” as deficit dominated the script of this interaction. This label took power away from Ali, handing the control of his knowledge over to John.

Why did I feel so upset? After working at the centre for a while, I came to realise how important it was to make sure students didn’t need me. This works against human instinct. We want to be needed, especially professionally. But chances are, the short interactions with the students by volunteers would be the only individual help these students would get. There was an enormous impetus to push them towards independence in every aspect of the interaction. I had worked hard to ensure this in my short time with Ali, and I felt that John had undone this work.

This is why I was elated when a few weeks later, Ali told me with a modest smile that he got a B on his Science test.

(*Names have been changed.)

I’m 23 years old and in my fourth and final year of a Bachelor of Primary Education. I don’t have a particular specialisation but I am interested in Indigenous, multicultural, science, maths and sexuality education.

I wanted to study primary because I had too many areas of interest to focus on any particular pathway. What other career can encompass every area of human existence? I knew I would feel most satisfied with a career that was directly helping people. Children are vulnerable but also at a crucial period in their lives, and helping them work themselves out through learning excites me.

I made these cards in conjunction with a small group of Year Ones struggling with sound-symbol relationships. I told them a sound, got them to come up with things beginning with that sound. We drew them together - the children telling me what a "Dad" looked like, for example, and me doing my best to draw what they imagined.

I was strongly encouraged to pursue a more intellectually challenging career – but now that I am in the thick of education, I can hardly think of a career with more challenge and responsibility involved every day.

I have had two extremes of response when people heard I wanted to be a teacher – “Great, we need more intelligent teachers! Good on you, I’m so glad people like you are entering the profession” or “God, why would you do that? Teachers are losers. How could you put up with bratty kids all day?”/ “Hey, great holidays!” I find people tend to consider me less intellectual when I tell them I’m studying primary education. There seems to be the stereotype of the typical education student as a silly young girl who loves cute little kids, or a low achiever with no other options.

But for me, studying teaching has stretched my intellect more than I had thought possible. My course has challenged me and taken me through such areas as sociology, psychology, citizenship, being a public intellectual, gender, sexuality, and nutting out what exactly culture is and how vital it is to teaching anyone.