Interview with Shadi by Geethika Korrapati ’26
Born and raised in the city of Qamishli in Northeast Syria, Shadi presents his unique experience growing up Kurdish under the Syrian regime, not being able to speak Kurdish outside the home. Qamishli is home to a plurality of ethnic groups, but no longer has the same diversity it used to have, as it was categorized as a strategic location in the Syrian Civil War. It is along the Syria-Turkey border and rich with resources like oil, gas, and agriculture. Shadi laments the loss of his city, “Rojava” in Kurdish, to civil conflict, believing it will be one of the last places in Syria to be free from violence and control. In Syria, Shadi was a music teacher and enjoyed singing since youth. Even as he was forced to move into a refugee camp in Iraq, his spirit and enthusiasm for education stayed with him throughout his journey. Shadi stayed in different cities across Iraq for seven years, teaching children in these camps Arabic and English. During those seven years, Shadi maintained a strong philosophy of perseverance–something he felt was necessary to have for his wife, Hadiya, who was battling acute myeloid leukemia, a dangerous cancer of the blood. He remained optimistic, despite traveling from Duhok city to Erbil to see different doctors and hearing the same verdict that she would die. Eventually, Hadiya’s file was accepted by the Netherlands and Shadi’s unwavering confidence in her survival held true, as she was treated and rid of her cancer. Traveling through Greece, Macedonia, Serbia, Hungary, Austria, and Germany in dangerous conditions, Shadi finally arrived in the Netherlands and now has two children and is learning Dutch. While his children are acclimating to the Dutch culture, Shadi underscores the importance of keeping their Kurdish and Syrian roots and culture alive in the home–a sentiment that even the Netherlands encourages for refugees. Shadi continues to teach, albeit Arabic language to English speakers, and fervently preaches the value of education in building perspective and empathy.
Listen to his story, below:
Transcript:
When I was in Syria and Iraq, in the camp, no education. You cannot save yourself. You cannot do anything because you are a refugee. Every time, I said, we should change our circumstances. We should believe what we have. The best thing is education because when we get education, we will change our circumstances.
When I was in the camp, I’m trying to give some lessons for students in the organization, NGO. I worked for many times as a volunteer. Because at that moment we say we are in the tent, what we can do for our children. When I make children smile, laugh, or something like that, I feel, in my heart, happy.
And they say, the best thing we can do for the people: to make smiles on the faces. Actually, I was a music teacher… and now, actually, I teach language for people. I teach Arabic. Every time, I say it is like a window. When we was there in the camp, every day I talk with people from abroad. But it is so important–we should not forget our language… because if you go to other countries, if you forget your language, it means you forget yourself. Like I’m now in Netherlands, but after 50 years, I will stay Kurdish. I’m from Syria. I should know my language. Tradition. Knowledge about my country. This is so important to keep it for our children.
Sometimes, we are afraid our children will learn a new language, but they will learn this tradition, this culture. In my city, before the war, I cannot speak Kurdish in a school, it is just they don’t allow it. And yeah, for example, when I, my students wanted to sing with other language, it is no problem. Any language? No problem. Just, Hebrew and Kurdish, just these don’t speak. If I speak Kurdish in school, I will lost my job.
And we just speak Kurdish in the house. And if I write in Kurdish on paper and someone see, this is also big problem for me. And sometimes families, like my father and mother, if they see I’m writing in Kurdish, they say “No, don’t write. We don’t want you to make a problem for us.” And we’re afraid for other people to say for the regime, for government, to order for police.
You know, here, there’s something different in the Netherlands. Every time, when we go to school, at the first time to register our children, they say, “Okay, in school, your children will speak Dutch, but try to keep your language in house.” Really it is something different. They say, “When you can, it is better if you speak our language, but we want you to speak one language we can understand each other.”
They respect humanity. It is respect, actually. When there’s respect, what you give, you will get it.
