Learning Arabic should not be viewed as a compulsion

Parent-Teacher Association (PTA) meetings are the time when parents get together to share their concerns about the education system. As my children are still in kindergarten, I don't have much to worry about, but it is always enlightening to hear the grievances of some of the more older parents.

Besides the general debates regarding hectic assignment schedules, the lack of time for extra-curricular activities and way too many monthly assessments, parents are also questioning their children's need to "put up" with too much Arabic at school. Parents complain that the entire grade is affected by their wards' poor performance in the subject.

The resentment most parents hold for Arabic, and their protests against its inclusion in the school's curriculum is surprising. I would assume that if someone decides to take up residence anywhere other than their home country, it would be only natural that their children learn to respect that country's cultural norms and its language.

The UAE may be cosmopolitan in all aspects, given the large expatriate community that it welcomes to its homeland with open arms. But it is also a young country, and one that needs assurance that its cultural values are understood by the thousands who reside here.

Is that such a bad thing?

There are 22 countries in the world that are Arabic-speaking, and in some places, it is hard to get by if you don't have at least a basic know-how of the language. When I moved to Riyadh for a year, I was completely lost because I didn't know Arabic. So used to doing my own groceries, and haggling with shopkeepers about prices, I soon realised how futile it was to shop in the city without some knowledge of Arabic.

As a long-time resident of the UAE, I regret my inability to speak conversational Arabic, or at least make sense of it, just because I never needed to.

My children are still young, but I want them to be better Arabic-speakers than myself, because it will open doors to more opportunities — in terms of economic growth and well-being. Furthermore, my main source of religious legislation, the Quran, is written in Arabic. Some of the most basic acts of worship are impossible to achieve without knowledge of at least a few words of Arabic.

I understand that learning Quranic Arabic will require extra effort on my children's part, but spoken fluency in the language will certainly make the task easier. Muslim expatriates must see that as an added incentive. If we took up residence in a Far Eastern country, or somewhere in Europe, wouldn't our children have to take up an orientation course in the language spoken there? Not just them, we would all scramble to take up language courses because everyday interaction would otherwise be impossible.

Virtue of necessity

But as many parents would argue, it is a necessity in the countries I refer to.

That is a fact I cannot refute, for language IS a tool of communication — and integration of course. And people like me HAVE spent a lifetime in Dubai without speaking a word of Arabic to get by anywhere.

However, sound knowledge of Arabic does have its advantages in the UAE. The language empowerment makes it so much easier to get work done in government offices, and most of the expatriate business sector would agree that if only they knew how to read Arabic, paperwork would be far less demanding for them.

Coming back to the compulsion of learning Arabic as a language in schools, for me this translates as Emiratis inviting expatriates to integrate in their society. And if we think positively, integration should translate into better opportunities for the expatriates in terms of opening up markets that are presently reserved for the Emiratis. Isn't that great?

What is really required is some fine-tuning in the way-too-pragmatic methodology adopted by schools for teaching Arabic. While the teaching staff should be native Arabic speakers, they must be able to communicate with students in English too.

Perhaps we can introduce conversational Arabic courses, rather than focus on vocabulary, grammar rules and spellings. This might motivate students, who cannot see how the language bears relevance to their everyday lives unless it serves as a means to communicate with people.

For Muslim students, an additional option of learning Quranic Arabic can be introduced, where they can choose to learn both spoken and Quranic Arabic or one of the two.

Also, at present, it seems like there are diverse ability levels in each class, although most schools do differentiate in terms of native- and non-native Arabic students.

But the ‘mixed ability' classes continue because while some of the non-native Arabic students in a particular grade have been in the UAE long enough to have picked up the basics, there are others who walk into a senior class completely blank in terms of Arabic fluency (or knowledge).

For every grade, students can be divided into three categories for their Arabic class: beginners, learners and advanced, based on their control and competency in terms of speaking and understanding Arabic. Eventually, the levels can branch out into further intermediary levels.

Parents can also be involved in the Arabic learning process. They can be offered language classes free of cost, perhaps after every PTA meeting. I know I would enrol myself if I had such an opportunity.

As ambitious as these ideas may seem, addressing the issue, and perhaps allocating more resources to this aspect of education is required if the aim is for everyone to say Ahlan Wasahlan as a way of greeting one another in the country.

Rabia Alavi is a Dubai-based writer. You can follow her at www.twitter.com/RabiaAlavi