By Nessuna

Knowledge emerges only through invention and re-invention, through the restless, impatient, continuing, hopeful inquiry, human beings pursue in the world, with the world, and with each other.

From “Pedagogy of the Oppressed” by Paulo Freire

When I first decided to study for a master’s degree at the American University of Armenia (AUA), many suggested that it was a waste of time because I knew English already. Some still perceive the AUA only as a means to improve English, but of course, the AUA is more than that.

The AUA was different in many ways. First of all, there were orientation trainings on basically everything from the structure of the building to our rights and obligations as students. We were told how strict the AUA is on cheating and plagiarism.

Getting feedback from students was another innovation. At the end of each course we would return an anonymous questionnaire evaluating the usefulness of a course and the knowledge and professional integrity of a professor.

A friend of mine was fascinated when I mentioned that I sent an email to my professor. To him it sounded “surreal.” Normally, you would not even ask a question to a professor outside the classroom, let alone consulting with one on a regular basis during office hours.

Another new thing to me was something as simple as group projects, which I have never had while studying for five years in a state institute. It is funny how group projects teach a great deal about how to work with different people, people you might not like or people who might not like you.

It was at the AUA that I was introduced to something called work-study, which is basically a way to help students to cover their tuition fees. Students with a high enough Grand Point Average (GPA) are given an opportunity to work in the University while studying.

The AUA surely teaches you a lot about self-discipline and responsibility. Deadlines are deadlines. An F is an F. You cannot bribe a professor or influence a grade with your personal connections. You cannot write a paper copying content from a single source and get away with it. For once, you have to study every single day because if you don’t it will be virtually impossible to catch up later.

And students are studying hard. Merit scholarships, where tuition fees can be reduced based on your GPA, are another reason to do so. However, sometimes the pressure could be too much. A guy I was studying with used to refer to our class as a zoo, where we more resembled a bunch of animals fighting for their lives instead of humans.

Lectures at the AUA were nothing like the dictations we had at the state institute, where students would just switch off the brains and meekly copy every single word that a lecturer was dictating to them. I am not sure how things work out in state universities now, but five years ago, higher education suffered from what Paulo Freire refers to as “narration sickness” in his famous book “Pedagogy of the Oppressed.”

Narration, with the teacher as narrator, leads the students to memorize mechanically the narrated content. Worse yet, it turns them into “containers” — “receptacles” to be “filled” by the teacher. The more completely the receptacle is filled, the better the teacher is considered to be. The more meekly the receptacles permit themselves to be filled, the better the student.

Studying in a state institute I had professors who were just that - narrators. They would be perfectly happy with students returning them their lectures. In fact, we had a professor who would get upset at students for simply paraphrasing his lecture. Needless to say, nobody would question the words of their professors, or god forbid, point out their mistakes. All that was expected from students was memorizing and repeating.

The outstanding characteristic of this narrative education, then, is the sonority of words, not their transforming power. “Four times four is sixteen. The capital of Para is Belem.” The student records, memorizes, and repeats these phrases without perceiving what four times four really means, or realizing the true significance of “capital” in the affirmation. That is, what Belem means for Para, and what Para means for Brazil.

That is the main reason I found studying at the AUA so refreshing. The education process was something creative. Instead of dull dictations we took notes, we were encouraged to think critically and ask questions, and we could disagree with a professor if we could bring valid arguments for doing so. The whole atmosphere at the AUA suggested that learning works both ways.

Students learn from their professors, and professors learn from their students.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not suggesting that the AUA was perfect. There is room for improvement even in the best universities in the world. However, what I am saying is that studying at the AUA was a valuable experience in terms of acquiring real knowledge and skills. Then again, they can only show you the door. You’re the one that has to walk through it.