We are all migrants

 

“When we accidently crossed a national park in the southern Mauritania, I felt like a child. For the first time in my life I saw migrating birds in their winter habitat.


by Zsófia Tárkányi, student at DNS 2016

 

Seeing storks, swallows and other European migrating bird species in West Africa is just magical. When we learn in school that certain species migrate to Africa to have better conditions during the winter period, it seems unimaginable. These small creatures on their own tiny wings fly to the south of Mauritania and to Senegal to the abundance of food for the winter period.

When we accidently crossed a national park in the southern Mauritania, I felt like a child. For the first time in my life I saw migrating birds in their winter habitat. I knew all along about it, at the theoretical level, but to see these familiar animals in their second home, at the other side of the world was another kind of experience. It left an impact. It made me understand that we are all connected. That the world is one big place and we all part of it.

We, humans are no exceptions. Regardless of our temporary or permanent habitat, we are all the same. We are made from the same material and just like the migrating birds, we have the possibility to leave the hostile environment with a hope for the better future. Migration is a part of nature and a part of our world. We all have the right to do so.

Just like I moved to Denmark for my education, the storks moved to Senegal to eat. Syrians and Eritreans and many other suffering nationalities are also on the move, and have a right to do so. We are all migrating birds of the human species. It is time to treat it as a natural fact.

I wish our political leaders would realise that migration is a natural process that is part of human nature. No wall, no fence, no protective laws can ever change that fact.

 

 

Zsófia Tárkányi

Zsófia Tárkányi

Student at DNS 2016

DNS The Necessary Teacher Training College - non-traditional university

The White Stork [latin: Ciconia ciconia]

Interview with a DNS teacher – meet Svetlana

Interview with a DNS teacher – meet Svetlana

To choose the path of teaching took me some time, I must say. It started on my very first 1st of September, this is the day when the school year starts in Lithuania. I simply loved it. And I am not talking about the lessons and tests, but about all the kinds of people I got to interact with and about the learning process that was happening there, somehow in between lessons most of the time. Though I was in love with the school and Summer holidays always seemed too long of a break, I never thought I will become a teacher. It is now, when I reflect, I see lots of sense in my actions and choices that led me to choose this profession.

What is language, and its hidden value

What is language, and its hidden value

Imagine you had to make a list, a catalogue, of all that exists. Where would you start?
You would probably look around, and start to name or to write down everything that you see or that comes to your mind. Soon, you would come across some dilemmas, and start to notice that it is not always so easy to establish what exists and what doesn’t. Do feelings exist, since they are not seen in the material world but just experienced internally? Probably yes, you would say. But then, do fictional characters exist, since they are not seen in the material world but just experienced mentally? This is a bit more challenging. Another dilemma: is a chair something that exists on its own? Or is it rather nothing but the sum of the pieces of wood that it is made of? Then maybe we shouldn’t include chairs on our catalogue of all that exists, it is enough to write ‘wood’. But following this line of thoughts, isn’t wood just a sum of molecules, which in turn are just a sum of atoms? Shouldn’t we then just write ‘atoms’ in our list? As you might have observed, the catalogue is very much subject to interpretation: a particle physicist’s catalogue will probably end up looking very different from your very own catalogue.

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