Lusseh Qalashyan, who moved to the Lernahovit border village of the Tavush province through a program of the Teach for Armenia education foundation, had decided to become a teacher when she was just 20, when the sense of powerlessness inflicted by the 44-day war in 2020 turned into a clear realization that all of our problems are due to gaps in the education sector.
Lusseh was born and raised in Vanadzor. Parallel to school, she took piano and dance lessons. In high school, she had clearly decided to become a historian, but her primary interest was in ethnography. She was in her final year in university, thinking to continue her education abroad, but the 44-day war changed all of Lusseh’s plans.
“I never thought about connecting my life with the education sector. The war was raging, and I felt simply helpless, constantly searching for ways to help my country. After long deliberation, I reached the conclusion that all of our problems are due to gaps in the education sector, and that only education can change, save, and give hope. That was when I decided that I could transfer my knowledge to the next generation, teaching them to love this country and our history, and value the people that live on this land,” Lusseh recalls.
She admits that although she did not have the qualification of a teacher, she sometimes shared social media posts containing her reflections about the teaching of history, the role of the teacher, and other matters. After a while, she discovered that her ideas were the same as those of the Teach for Armenia program, and decided to apply to the program, expressing her willingness to invest her professional knowledge and skills in Armenia’s remote rural schools that suffer from a shortage of teachers.
The mission of the Teach for Armenia education foundation is to support the creation of an environment where every child in Armenia, irrespective of their socio-economic status and place of living, will have the opportunity to unleash their full potential through excellent education.
For eight years now, the Foundation’s programs help young teacher-leaders to move to work in communities that lack teachers. At present, the Foundation has 135 teacher-leaders across all provinces of Armenia and is helping over 30,000 schoolchildren by ensuring the sustainability of their education.
Having successively passed all the selection stages, including through accelerated training on teaching methods, Lusseh finally reached the Lernahovit community of the Lori province.
“I was not afraid of being away from home, living alone. My father is in the military, and our family frequently moved from place to place. Everyday problems were surmountable for me,” says Lusseh.
“It seemed that the hardest problem would be the unavailability of water, having to carry it in buckets from a long distance, or the winter, when it gets extremely cold here, to 24 degrees centigrade below zero. But those turned out to be details. Rats became my greatest household problem, freely moving in and out, suddenly emerging at the top of my bed or at my feet, while I was teaching a group class,” she recalls with laughter.
When Lusseh was changing houses, she realized that the village had many empty houses that could become excellent guesthouses by bringing numerous tourists to Lernahovit, one of Armenia’s most picturesque villages. Even though many people are still skeptical about her idea, Lusseh is not discouraged.
“Skepticism has one reason: I am a woman, and many think what business a young woman can start, especially with schoolchildren. But I am confident that over time, everything will succeed. If I do not manage on time, my students will do it. We developed this project together. Importantly, I have instilled in them the idea that there is nothing they cannot do, so long as they want it and work hard in that direction,” Lusseh says, adding that our ideas of young women’s education and their role and potential need a serious revision.
Lusseh recalls the various stereotypes she initially encountered. For instance, she was surprised to find out that “she was poor, and that’s why she became a teacher,” “she could not do anything, because she had neither a husband nor a family by her side.” People in the school, too, were skeptical about her capacity.
“There was a very significant difference between generations, perceptions, and teaching techniques. At first, I constantly faced the ‘can’t do that’ or ‘don’t do that’ obstacles. But I managed to overcome them, because I learnt to notice my own mistakes and omissions, and I started asking those very individuals for advice, thereby breaking the barrier between us. A peer support atmosphere is crucial. Today, I can say that I have an excellent relationship with all of the teaching staff,” Lusseh says.
But the biggest stereotype that the young teacher overcame was the ‘warning’ frequently repeated by people around, who claimed that the job of a teacher is not grateful, and nobody will appreciate her work. Lusseh says that, over the two years when she taught, she cannot recall a single day when the students would not be grateful to her.
“When every child feels valued in the classroom, and they understand that they learnt something new that day, they will necessarily be grateful to you,” Lusseh says.
Lusseh confesses that in her first year of teaching, she did not feel like a leader. Comrade Lusseh became a teacher-leader after one and a half years, when she decided to implement, jointly with her students, a courageous initiative—the first-ever Yoghurt Soup Festival.
“That was when I understood that I can really mobilize so many children around one idea, from not only our village, but also the nearby villages, and together with them, to organize a festival that would bring hundreds of visitors to Lernahovit. Some brought wheat from home, and others brought yoghurt or other products. During the festival, we created five songs, all sung in the sweet local dialect. Without a budget, simply by investing a tiny bit of what we had in our homes, we managed to organize a significant event for the village, proving to ourselves that not everything depends on funding, as long as there is collective will and a common goal.”
After completing her years of service with the Teach for Armenia program, Lusseh decided to continue teaching, because she has found teaching to be dear to her soul. Today, Lusseh teaches history not only in Lernahovit’s secondary school, but also in the Metsavan village. Now, as before starting to teach, she is convinced that education is what gives the individual freedom and teaches to think critically and to analyze. Education is the answer to all questions.
“Only quality education can help to keep the village as a village, rather than as a simple piece of land. As a result of good education, one child may decide to become a veterinarian, another an agronomist, and the other an accountant. Otherwise, emigration will remain the only option for these children,” the young teacher says.
Lusseh still does not know how long she will stay in Lernahovit, but she is sure of one thing: Lernahovit has made the idea of patriotism more tangible for her. Before coming here, homeland for her was the country’s map, mountains, or sites; but in Lernahovit, she has come to realize clearly that homeland is firstly about the people, who live and create here.