By Basil Tutza
Second-year secondary education major Taslim Sabil, despite how exemplary she would prove herself to be as a member of the Drexel community, didn’t feel complete without field hockey. “Prior to college, sports were almost my whole identity,” she jokes; though the strength of her passions for history, representation, and the power of education clearly prove otherwise. Sports, as it would become clear, are another facet of many in Sabil’s dedication to her community—a dedication which shapes her teaching career just as much as her upbringing did.
“I was surrounded by teachers my whole life,” Sabil recounts. The child of Sudanese immigrants, Sabil grew up “following [her] mother to the Quran classes she taught,” and, eventually, teaching in those classes herself. “Because my mom didn't speak English, I was her teacher as well—but then she ended up telling her friends, and they joined in. Later on, I ended up volunteering at my weekend schools, so I would teach Arabic, our holy book, and then Islamic studies.”
But despite that educational history, Sabil admits, teaching was never a career she considered as a child. “I think I tried to run from it for a long time,” she reminisces. It wasn’t until high school that Sabil would find Mrs. Ridgeway, a mentor teacher who cemented, in her mind, the importance of education; in particular, the importance of “hav[ing] people that look like us be that representation in the classroom.”
“She was a Black Muslim woman, and she taught history,” Sabil describes. “She was the one that really allowed me to recognize that this is something that I want to do, this is something I have a passion for.” From that class forward, the flimsy barrier between Sabil and her current educational enthusiasm finally began to break down. “Up until that point, I had never had a teacher that looked like me. I was never reflected in the classroom; that's ultimately why I believe I didn't see myself teaching in that space, because I didn't see myself in it.”
Drexel’s School of Education was her final push.
“I decided to take a shot and shadow Drexel's teacher education program, and I was blown away. The first class I attended was Dr. Hall's class, and his teaching style just captivates anyone that's listening, even as you're walking by.”
“With that, I decided to just… ‘tune out the noise,’ so to speak; because, when it comes to saying, ‘I want to be a teacher,’ the first thing you hear is, ‘Why? You could do so much better.’ It's such a looked-down-upon degree or profession here. When it comes to overseas, teachers are highly respected, and that's what I noticed when I would go back home to Sudan. But here in America, being a teacher just means you're a professional babysitter, and unfortunately, I ended up believing that throughout my years of schooling. But once I had that role model in high school, I realized, ‘Okay, this is more than just a glorified babysitter.’ This is someone that's actually giving me the tools to navigate my life.”
That awareness of inequity—in representation, in respect, and in the treatment of diverse students—is palpable throughout Sabil’s career, even down to her history specialization. “More often than not, I hear people saying history is so boring, or they hate history class, or they dreaded history class,” Sabil offers. “But I love history. We were just fed this master narrative. They always say history is written by the winners. Sometimes other voices are left out. I want to be that person to bring in all sides of history, whether good or bad, because in order for you to learn from your mistakes, you need to know the truth. Just because you don't fit that master narrative or the cultural norm, that doesn't mean that you are less valuable, or that your culture is inferior.” But even beyond that, Sabil adds, she hopes to be a resource to students who are in a similar situation to how she was in school; to offer a leg up in the often-inaccessible higher education preparation process. “When it came to schooling, my siblings and I just had to learn that system; jump into the deep end and figure out how to swim. There are many students like me that are first generation. They don't know how to navigate the college portal. They don't have any mentors. So, I took it upon myself, not as a savior, but just as the kind of a mentor that I needed in that time.”
Her lack of familiarity with higher ed doesn’t reflect in her achievements, however—she was not only a six-sport varsity athlete in high school but received a full ride Liberty Scholarship and is a current student of the Pennoni Honors College. Like all education majors, she balances her education coursework and her field placements; but with the added benefit of a close relationship with the College of Arts and Sciences and an unmatched enthusiasm for her learning.
“I've learned more about history in those classes than I did in my entire K-12 schooling,” she says. “The college has done a phenomenal job of picking professors, because each time I've attended those classes, I ended up wanting to learn more, and ultimately wanting to have them as a professor again, and I felt like my knowledge—and even my writing skills—have definitely improved. These classes really break down your way of thinking and then rebuild it back up. So whatever ethnocentric lens you came in with just… vanishes. Or, more accurately, you realize that, maybe, the way that you've been viewing the world is not the same way that everyone else views it.” She is then immediately able to apply that knowledge to her education degree, both in academics and in practice. “No matter how I arrange my schedule, someway, somehow, things I talk about in my CoAS classes end up showing up in my education classes, and vice versa. I'm living the dream. I think my degree path is perfect for me. It works so well.”
Similarly beneficial has been her field placement, which, funnily enough, landed Sabil right back in the high school class which initially led her down the path of education. “I’m lucky enough to already know the school system, because I went there for the past 4 years,” says Sabil. “It's also interesting to see how the school culture is changing for the better. The students have been super nice, super helpful. They understand that I was a student once, like them. I'm kind of that in-between, where it's like, ‘Okay, I was once one of you guys.’ They like to connect with me. They'll even specifically ask for me to help them with their work.” But the most rewarding aspect, Sabil qualifies, is the ability to “make mistakes without having to worry about being observed, a supervisor watching me. Whether I tripped up or whether I did perfectly, there’s a learning opportunity every single time.”
Sabil has also made a conscious effort to remain integrated into the Philadelphia school community extracurricularly: she is a member of the School District of Philadelphia’s facilities planning board, a STAR scholar researching kindergarten readiness, a club field hockey athlete, and a candidate for the Lindy Center’s civic engagement leadership certificate. But most importantly, she emphasizes, she is the secretary and outreach chair of Drexel’s Muslim Student Association: a position spent packing meals, organizing clothing drives, and shining a light on the underrepresented Muslim population at Drexel and beyond.
“That’s what I want to highlight in my experience,” Sabil starts. “I just have so many opportunities to go out, be an advocate, be visible. That's my whole purpose, my whole goal, and why I want to be an educator: to help my community.”