<?xml encoding="UTF-8">

While most students begin their working careers after graduation, some pursue their passions alongside their degrees and find inspiring success. Here, we profile AUCians who have launched their own homegrown Egyptian businesses.

Dalila Hassanein

Dalila Hassanein is an undergraduate visual arts junior who has been working as a professional artist in Cairo for two years. She presents her paintings at exhibitions and creates new pieces on commission.

Her work currently focuses on the "creative informality" of Egyptian street art. Some of her distinctive paintings are based on the hand-painted real estate ads created in public spaces in central Cairo. Selling these paintings brings in the revenue needed to make new ones, typically done on costly 1.5m by 1.5m canvases.

Managing expenses is just one part of the art business Hassanein has learned to handle. "I love every part of my career, even though the beginning is always the toughest. As a young emerging artist I've faced many difficulties and had to realize that the Egyptian art market does not always treat artists fairly," she says.

Hassanein complains of working for low rates, not being paid in full, and sometimes struggling to navigate professional relationships with different art curators. "I've definitely been taken advantage of due to not having enough knowledge on how the art market in Egypt truly works," she says. "However, experiences like these drive in clients, exposure and more exhibition opportunities, so no matter how tough it might be, there are always lessons to be learned."

• 
• Hassanein at her New Cairo studio.
• 

 

Photos by Ahmad El-Nemr

Although balancing her time between studies and work has also proved challenging for Hassanein, there is a synergy between the two. "I've received a lot of support and input from my professors on my projects," she recalls. "Also, the courses in the visual arts program truly help me understand what it takes to be an artist and to create work that reaches its full potential."

Still, working in the art market as a student has taken a toll on her social life, sleep schedule and free time. It can be stressful, she says, "but I've found that as long as I am passionate about both, I will find a way to work everything out."

Hassanein's favorite part of her business is "the fact that not only what I'm doing is succeeding but that my work is making a change." She opines that the contemporary art scene in Egypt remains limited to incessant depictions of fellahin (farmers), pyramids and deserts. "While this is a part of our culture as Egyptians, constantly having this imagery just further orientalizes us, 'others' us and neglects Egypt's creative urban culture." In her artistic manifesto, she stresses the importance of "a new visual language" for Egyptian art -- something to which her own work directly contributes.

To her fellow students, Hassanein recommends getting into business even before graduation, provided they are ready for the workload. "Creating something you're passionate about is worth the struggle."

Dinah Harvey '22

Dinah Harvey '22 is a graduate of AUC's architecture program and founder of Clooper Studios, Egypt's first professional pet photography studio.

An animal lover, Harvey always wanted to take high-quality pictures of her dogs but was unable to find a local pet photographer in Cairo. "I realized this is lacking in Egypt and that no one has professional, if any, photos of their own pets," Harvey explains. She decided to change that.

After consulting with a pet photography studio in Canada, Floofy Studios, Harvey launched Clooper Studios -- named after her dogs, Cleo and Cooper. Although elevating her hobby into a professional enterprise has required some serious investments in a studio, equipment and a website, Harvey's project fills an underserved niche and provides a valued service for Egyptian animal lovers. "Our dogs don't remain with us forever, and this is just one special way of keeping their memory alive," she says.

• Harvey, Cleo and Cooper at Clooper Studios.
• Harvey and her sister pose with Cleo.
• Cleo smiles for the camera.

 

Photos courtesy of Dinah Harvey

Like any business owner, she has faced her share of difficulties. "My experience so far has been a rollercoaster," says Harvey. Learning to set terms and conditions with clients, managing payments and bookings, and working without a full-time assistant have been some of her main challenges. Dogs, of course, are also sometimes less than cooperative with a photographer. "My friends and family are always helping out; this wouldn't be possible without them," she says.

Balancing her business plans with studies at AUC forced Harvey to delay Clooper's full launch until after graduation. However, it was all for the best, as the photo editing skills she learned in the last year of her architecture program have proved invaluable to her work as a photographer. Although running any business is tough, Harvey's is a labor of love, spending time with animals and giving clients priceless memories. She recalls how one woman, after receiving edited photos of her pet, sent a voice note screaming with happiness. At the end of the day, says Harvey, "the dogs always make it worthwhile!"

 

<?xml encoding="UTF-8"><?xml encoding="UTF-8">

How have AUCians celebrated Christmas throughout last 80 years? We dug through the archives to find out.

1940s-1980s

• 1940s
• 1960s
• 1960s
• 1980s
• 1960s
• 1980s

 

2000s-2022

Photos 1940s-1980s courtesy of the University archives.

 

<?xml encoding="UTF-8">

By Em Mills and Devon Murray

Do you ever ask yourself, "Why do I keep attracting the same kind of partner?" or "Why do I find myself in the same types of relationships -- which always seem to end -- over and over again?"

Getting to know your attachment style may answer some of these questions and help you break free from a seemingly endless cycle. Attachment theory explores the relationship, or emotional bond, between a child and their primary caregiver. Such a bond plays an integral part in developing a child's sense of security, which later affects their adult relationships, according to Nour Zaki, visiting assistant professor in AUC's Department of Psychology.

The theory includes four attachment styles that are defined by our perceptions of ourselves and others: secure, anxious, avoidant and disorganized. "Knowing your style can help you understand your needs in relationships, and how to express them in a healthy way," says Zaki, whose research focuses on attachment theory.

'Cradle to Grave'

The theory was initially developed by researchers John Bowlby and Mary Ainsworth in the mid-to-late 20th century. Before their work, the general consensus was that human and animal babies stayed close to their mothers because they associated them with nutrition.

"Bowlby started to think, 'There is something emotional here. It's not just about food; it's about seeking proximity,'" says Zaki. "Babies cannot survive on their own. They need to be close to an adult figure who is able to provide that sense of safety."

This adult is known as the "primary caregiver" in attachment theory. "Typically, this is a child's mother but not always," Zaki explains. "It can be the father, an adoptive mom, a grandparent or even an older sibling in some cultures."

At around six to nine months, a baby begins to differentiate between caregivers and strangers. "At this stage, we begin to see stranger anxiety and separation anxiety, displayed by a clear preference for certain caregivers. These are healthy signs of attachment," Zaki says.

Depending on the quality and consistency of care a child receives from their primary caregiver, their attachment will likely develop in line with one of the theory's four styles: "If a caregiver is attuned to their child's needs, the child learns that they are worthy of attention and that they can rely on others," Zaki says. "This usually leads to secure attachment -- the belief that we deserve love and can trust other people."

Bowlby has a famous saying: "Attachment stays with you from the cradle to the grave." Your relationship with your caregiver is a major player in developing your core beliefs, or "internal working models," which dictate how you see yourself and others, how comfortable you are setting boundaries as well as other aspects of relating to people.

The Four Styles of Adult Attachment

So, what are the characteristics of each attachment style? And what factors might lead to their development?

Secure

A secure attachment allows you to express vulnerability with your partner and engage in intimate relationships that feel safe and consistent.

"This person is able to express themself while maintaining a sense of reciprocity. They can support their partner but also ask for what they need. This includes setting healthy boundaries and having a grounded sense of who they are outside of the relationship."

Anxious

Anxious attachment (referred to as a "preoccupied attachment" in the context of adult relationships) often results when a primary caregiver is inconsistent in caring for their child; care is sometimes present and other times not. This unpredictability causes the child to question their own self-worth.

"Individuals with this attachment style need external reassurance and may have a fear of abandonment. They may need to hear 'I love you' very often or feel jealous easily if their partner is giving attention to other people."

Avoidant

Avoidant attachment (or "dismissive attachment" in adults) stems from a caretaker who is consistently absent, unavailable or unresponsive to their child. This dynamic pushes the child to develop a negative image of other people.

"Individuals with dismissive attachment have a sense of 'defensive independence.' They highly prioritize their space -- and actually feel very triggered -- if they feel that someone is too close."

Disorganized

The rarest type of attachment is referred to as disorganized attachment (or "fearful attachment" in adults). This most commonly occurs in cases of abuse, where the child experiences something called the "fear dilemma" -- the caregiver is the person they're supposed to go to when afraid, but is also the person they are afraid of.

Are We Doomed?

You may be wondering, "Will I always push people away then?" or "Am I stuck in this pattern forever?"

"No one's attachment style is fixed," Zaki affirms. While you may have a tendency to fall into a certain pattern, it can be different in each individual relationship depending on your dynamic with your partner.

"Understanding where your patterns come from can give you a sense of empowerment instead of feeling like you're on autopilot, because what we're used to in terms of relationship dynamics eventually becomes like autopilot, right?" says Zaki.

She is also quick to note that each attachment style has strengths and weaknesses. "It's not just about understanding our vulnerabilities, but also our strengths, because each attachment style has its own points of strength." For example, the independence that comes with avoidant behavior can be beneficial in the workplace, where one might be more inclined to push themselves and take the initiative before being asked to do something. It all depends on the ability to express your needs in a clear, healthy way.

"If you feel like you've had a challenging childhood experience or are facing relationship dynamics that aren't ideal or healthy, looking at these dynamics can help put you on the road to self-understanding from a developmental perspective." says Zaki.

Breaking the Cycle

Zaki's interest in attachment theory developed as she worked on her PhD dissertation at Universidad Catolica San Antonio de Murcia in Spain, where she explored the transition to motherhood and how a mother's attachment style relates to how she views herself as a future mom. She is interested in how attachment styles are passed across generations, and how such cycles are broken.

"We often hear people say that despite wanting to raise their children differently than their parents, they end up doing or echoing the very things they heard growing up," she says. "Identifying and understanding one's attachment style empowers us to work on our vulnerabilities and insecurities early on, so we can avoid becoming triggered while transitioning to parenthood. This developmental approach to parenting is very powerful."

Hoping to support the next generation, Zaki conducts workshops and lectures in Egypt and collaborates with a number of international organizations, including the Association for Prenatal and Perinatal Psychology and Health. She also teaches and conducts research related to developmental psychology and mother-infant attachment in her Attachment Lab at AUC, which recently received a research support grant from the University for her latest research project on the intergenerational transmission of attachment between mothers and their babies.

Her advice for readers? "It's never too late."

 

<?xml encoding="UTF-8">

Professor, researcher, podcast queen -- these are a few of the many job titles you'll find in Kim Fox's email signature.

Since joining AUC in 2009, Fox has become a podcasting powerhouse, being named among Podcast Magazine's inaugural 40 Over 40 podcasters in 2022. Today, she is constantly on the move: flying to the United States to lead a meeting for the Broadcast Education Association, developing a new episode of her multi award-winning podcast Ehky ya Masr (Tell Your Story, Egypt) or delving into academic research across a number of current topics, from feminism in podcasting to teaching journalism online.

On the rare day that she isn't donning one of her professional hats, you can find her on the lush island of Zamalek, where she has lived since moving to Cairo.

I often spend weekends socializing and doing things in the city. Last semester, I went to the Art d'Egypte exhibit at the pyramids with a posse of friends, had a Thanksgiving potluck and took a Nile Taxi ride. Zamalek has been unraveling, you know. The cool places change.

I ride my bike around Zamalek on Friday and Saturday mornings. Living in Egypt, I often miss going to green spaces and just hanging out and walking around without the tension that one experiences while moving in Cairo. You have to seize the window when there isn't too much traffic or people out. On a tough morning, I get up before the rest of the city wakes up, get on my bike and am like, "Yeah. This is what I'm here for. More of this, please and thank you." Riding around warms my heart; it's a bit of freedom. There's nothing like it.

Cairo is a crazy place, so you definitely have to find your pocket of people who will help you out. The people I've met at AUC and in Cairo are amazing, and the list keeps growing. If we didn't have that kind of a support system, it would be really difficult to survive the antics of the city, work and life. Everyone's trying to look out in the best way. I try to encourage this in my classroom at AUC, building a community that cares about each other. I've also grown a global community, which is something I'm really proud of. Podcast scholars, creatives -- I've got pockets of people everywhere.

I've found that if you don't champion yourself, no one else will. As a creative scholar, I'm usually working in the realm of podcasts, but I also publish a lot of academic research in quality journals. My biggest achievement is being the first ever winner of two BEA Festival of Media Arts Awards in the same year for my podcast, which has no budget. My students have won more than 80 international awards. The length of my email signature is a testament to the work that I am doing. Let people know what you do.

Kim Fox is a professor of practice in AUC's Department of Journalism and Mass Communication.

Fox often rides her bicycle in Zamalek on weekend mornings. Photo by Rawan Ezzat. 

<?xml encoding="UTF-8">

By Ian Greer

What does an Umm Kulthum song mean when sung at a protest? Or the music of Sheikh Imam in the middle of a 21st-century digital revolution? These are some of the questions that puzzled a young AUC student during the turbulent 2010s and which he has answered in a new, groundbreaking book that traces the unwritten popular history of modern Egypt.

Andrew Simon (CASA '10) is a senior lecturer in the faculty of Middle Eastern studies at Dartmouth College in the United States and a graduate of the Center for Arabic Study Abroad @AUC (CASA@AUC). He is also the author of Media of the Masses: Cassette Culture in Modern Egypt (Stanford University Press, 2022), a book that delves deep into the modern history of Egyptian popular culture, spread through new technological mediums.

Andrew Simon

The story of Simon's book, the product of 10 years of work, begins during his time as CASA@AUC student in 2010.

"I arrived the summer prior to the revolution," recalls Simon. "The CASA program at the time was based in the downtown campus, right next to the midan (Tahrir Square). So we had mass demonstrations right outside of our classroom. I was living with a few friends in an apartment in Munira just up the street a few blocks away, and we attended demonstrations almost every day. It's something that I remember quite vividly, that would shape not only me personally but my academic interests going forward."

Outside of the classroom, Simon was struck above all by the "acoustic culture" of the protests: instruments, slogans, chants and songs by Egyptian singers old and new, deployed for political action sometimes beyond their original contexts. Simon returned to the United States to write on Egypt's soundscape.

The acoustic culture of Egypt's revolution had its roots in new cultural mediums of the late 20th century, Simon found. "When it came time to write a dissertation, the thing that I realized connects all these topics is cassette tapes. They were present in all of these stories. That's when I set out to write a history of cassette technology that became a history of Egypt."

An Unofficial History

In Media of the Masses, Simon calls cassettes "the internet before the internet." Using cheap cassette tapes, anyone could create culture, even culture opposed to the ruling regime. Among the most prominent adopters of the technology was Sheikh Imam, a singer and social critic popular in late 20th-century Egypt who figures prominently in Simon's book. Imam's 'Nixon Baba,' a witty critique of Anwar Sadat's welcome of the American President Richard Nixon in 1974, is among Simon's favorite Egyptian songs.

Focused on the music, ideas and concerns of everyday Egyptians over the decades, Media of the Masses is an unofficial history of modern Egypt, far from sweeping national narratives. Without sources available in the Egyptian National Archives, Simon relied on oral history, Egyptian films, and decades of local newspapers and magazines to construct his own popular history of the country.

Explore Simon's work

The history of the 1970s and 1980s in Egypt is typically focused on the period's major wars, governance and Islamic revival movements, not pop culture, Simon explains. "In this book, I tried to shift all of those things. So rather than looking at momentous events, I focus on more mundane things like music. Rather than looking at religion, I tried to look at secular, profane things. Rather than looking at the consolidation of power, I look at people who challenged political authority. I tried to offer a very different story and focus on people who were, frankly, written out of history."

The singer Sheikh Imam is a prime example; popular in his own time but practically absent from the mainstream Egyptian historical record. "I think he's someone whose songs really resonated with people and meant something to them, but scholars and historians haven't written about him because they probably don't deem him as a worthy subject matter," observes Simon. "That's something I tried to change in this book."

Decidedly light on academic theories, Media of the Masses is meant to be engaging and accessible, something anyone can understand, just like the popular music it documents. "My primary audience are Egyptians; I wrote this book to be read here in Cairo," says Simon, adding that the independent Egyptian publishing house Dar El Shorouk will release an Arabic translation of the book later this year. "It was a dream of mine for a long time to have an Arabic translation," Simon says. "It will hopefully be available at a future Cairo Book Fair."

Cairo Connections

Now an academic and fluent in Arabic, Simon fondly remembers how the CASA program boosted his Arabic-language skills and drew him irresistibly into Arab popular culture. "CASA was the first time I felt like I wasn't studying Arabic as a language," remarks Simon. "We weren't studying grammar. Instead, we studied subjects in Arabic. We would learn Arabic literature while immersed in Egyptian culture."

Simon's book is a testament to his enduring connection to Egypt and its people, first formed during his time as a CASA student at AUC more than 10 years ago. He spent years living in the country after finishing his undergraduate degree and has been coming back ever since. Despite Egypt's many changes since 2010, Simon says that the most important part of the country's culture -- its people -- are still the same.

"The man who sells aseer asab [sugarcane juice], the people working at the grocery store and laundromat -- all of those individuals are still there. And they recognize me," he says. "When I come back to Cairo, they tell me 'You look a little older. You didn't have as much gray hair when we first met 15 years ago.' So some things have changed, and other things have remained the same."

Main image: Abu Hamza Cassette Shop in Cairo. Photos courtesy of Andrew Simon

 

<?xml encoding="UTF-8">

I always perceived traveling as buying a plane ticket or train pass to somewhere far outside my borders -- until it was time for me to go to AUC. Suddenly in Fall 2021, my five-minute walk to school in Zamalek was abruptly replaced by a two-hour commute to college in New Cairo. Today, as I commute from the swarming hub of Zamalek to the more tranquil and calmer New Cairo, I am transported from one world to another -- from a world that knows no sleep, where sound and noise are always present, to a world with palm tree-lined streets and a serene atmosphere.

I have been commuting from Zamalek to New Cairo almost every day for three years now. Each ride exposes a new, unique difference between the two planets that exist in one city, from the paved roads and Western-inspired modern architecture in New Cairo to the crooked streets and iconic sights that carry vast historic cultural inheritance in Zamalek. The island is home to what upper-class Egyptians classify as the creme de la creme -- history-rich landmarks and buildings that have been there for ages, such as the Cairo Opera House, old mansions that belonged to Egypt's most famous actors as well as the countless number of embassies, museums and art galleries. These sharply contrast with the newly developed structures and skylines in New Cairo.

Rizkalla commutes from Zamalek to AUC New Cairo each week. Photo by Ahmad El-Nemr

While the latter reflects a fast-paced lifestyle that is evident in the growing number of drive-thrus and on-the-go services, Zamalek still preserves some of Cairo's well-known characteristics. For example, parking your car on the street in Zamalek could take you 10 minutes or more, while finding a spot in New Cairo often takes less than 60 seconds.

During my 10-minute walk to the bus stop in Zamalek each morning, I notice how different people start their days. I see kids, coffee in hand, climbing into their Mercedes van while the driver grabs their school backpacks to shove in the trunk. I see other children hop into taxis to get to school. One scene that I would not usually encounter in New Cairo is the considerable number of tourists who enjoy a morning jog along the Nile River. It is along the same waters that I occasionally glimpse a heartwarming moment as a couple enjoys a date. During my regular walks in Zamalek, I come across my friends, Lola the cat and Hanafy the dog, two stray animals that have always shared the same pavement.

On the Road

As the bus leaves the island and crawls towards New Cairo, the population seems to age backward. Zamalek is more concentrated with older people who are typically retired, nature-loving and have lived in these neighborhoods long before New Cairo was even imagined. On the other hand, younger generations tend to flock to more modern areas like the Fifth Settlement, which explains the reckless driving I encounter every morning in North Teseen Street -- the area's main road.

The friends you make on the bus can be the closest friendships you'll ever have, especially considering how often you are stuck in the same vehicle commuting with them from one side of the city to another. I often overhear heartbreaking stories, joyous news or tales of nerve-wracking situations. Whether sharing an embarrassing moment that happened during assembly hour or checking final grades, you can be united with a random stranger, perhaps for just one trip, by the bus experience.

I also often catch a few notes of the music my fellow commuters listen to. There is the character who sits in the back seat crying their eyes out listening to Birdy's sad songs and the sassy gals listening to hip-hop and dance-punk beats at 8 am with the volume so high that the bus driver can hear. Perhaps the most eclectic type of person is the one who shuffles genres every three seconds, from Amr Diab to Justin Bieber to Wegz.

Even if life in New Cairo seems straightforward and hassle-free in comparison to Zamalek, I'd still much rather deal with the everyday struggles that an islander like myself faces. Living in Zamalek will always feel unique, even with its traffic jams and noise pollution. It will always have a certain, special charm.

 

By Abigail Flynn

A young man in Cairo loses sleep worrying about how the city's pollution is worsening his mother's asthma. Meanwhile, a teenage girl on the North Coast is wracked with daily anxiety as rising sea levels threaten to submerge her family home. As the consequences of climate change materialize and intensify, so does the impact they have on mental health.

Kate Ellis, assistant professor in the Department of Psychology, studies how climate change is affecting young people in Egypt. "My research is on eco-anxiety. It's a bit of an unusual term, but it refers to the emotional and psychological distress that people experience regarding climate change, like sadness, anger or anxiety," Ellis explains.

These emotions can express themselves in different ways depending on an individual's context. "For some people, climate change is threatening their very livelihoods, so their anxiety stems from their day-to-day struggles," Ellis states. "At the same time, there are others whose lives haven't been directly impacted, but they still have broader concerns about the world, their children and future generations."

Interviewing individuals between the ages of 16 and 25 in Cairo, Alexandria, Marsa Alam and Assiut, Ellis has gained a comprehensive understanding of how the climate crisis is affecting people from different socioeconomic classes. After conducting these focus groups in collaboration with the Christian Blind Mission, an international organization that helps people with disabilities, Ellis attended COP27, the United Nations Climate Change Conference in Sharm El-Sheikh, with an AUC delegation to present her findings.

One major difference that Ellis found was between individuals who live off the land and those who do not. "Anyone who is dependent on the agriculture, fishing or tourism sectors is going to be particularly affected by eco- anxiety. In Alexandria, for instance, many people are anxious because they have lost their homes to rising sea levels or pollution is causing them serious illness," Ellis states.

Not everyone Ellis interviewed mentioned climate change specifically as the cause of their anxieties, but they were still very conscious of the changing environment.

"While many of these people would use a term other than 'climate change,' they were all aware of the environmental impacts that were affecting their lives and communities," Ellis recalls. "We also want to raise awareness of what is causing these environmental impacts, that being climate change."

Meanwhile, people who do not rely on agriculture, like Cairenes, express different concerns. "Focus groups in Cairo were more concerned about the state of the environment and economy," Ellis says. "There was a lot of discussion about nonhuman life, how things like overfishing and river pollution would affect sea life and the economy."

Understanding the types of anxieties young people in Egypt are facing and examining the sources of these stressors help researchers encourage a shift toward more sustainable behavior. For the last six years, Ellis has been working with various community projects that aim to improve sustainability all over Egypt, which is what inspired her to pursue the current eco-anxiety study.

"As people become more anxious due to climate change, they tend to become agitated and withdraw into themselves. You see this particularly in relation to extreme heat," Ellis says about her general findings. "You hear a lot of teenagers saying they don't want to have a family in the future because they're concerned about losing their homes, not having enough money and the world generally falling apart."

One major consequence of climate change and eco-anxiety is people losing a sense of agency. "Average people are angry at both the state and big business and industry. They perceive themselves as not being self-empowered," Ellis explains. "The problem seems too big to address at an individual level."

Ellis hopes to challenge this perception. "We want to show people they can make a difference at the individual and societal levels. There are so many youth groups doing work on climate change throughout Egypt, and we want to work with them to both improve education on climate change and potentially affect some sort of policy transformation," she says.

For those suffering from eco-anxiety, Ellis emphasizes the importance of community dialog. "Letting people express how they're feeling helps reduce anxiety and improve mood. Destigmatizing discussions about mental health is incredibly important," she says.

<?xml encoding="UTF-8">

Photos courtesy of the University Archives

When AUC was still a dream, Wendell Cleland, assistant to AUC's founding president, Charles Watson, played a pivotal role in the early vision of the University. Setting out to Cairo to study Arabic and see how viable establishing a university would be, he left the United States in 1917, during World War I. Cleland crossed the Pacific, traveling up the West Coast to Canada, then to Japan, China and India, before passing through the Suez Canal to Port Said.

"But the day we arrived at Port Said, the United States declared war on Germany. ... We had a communication from the Board of Trustees over here and Dr. Watson that they had decided that if a war was going on there that involved Egypt and the threat of the Germans, that there wasn't much opportunity to promote the growth of a new university in Egypt."

After the war, AUC began operations in 1919. Cleland notes that there were many graduates of secondary schools or the Egyptian University who were interested in taking classes at AUC.

"I was appointed to organize, according to the demand of the local community, classes for those who wanted to study certain subjects. And that eventually resulted in the 'Qism Khidma 'Aama,' the extension division of the University, where adults could come along and take courses and eventually get degrees and build up their own esprit de corps and improve their jobs." AUC's School of Continuing Education (SCE) was established in 1924 as the Division of Extension, with Cleland serving as director until 1947.

Wendell Cleland

Local Connections

In the beginning, the school's primary aim was to engage and serve the Egyptian public through lectures, film screenings and outreach programs.

For Cleland, connecting the local community with AUC's foreigners and boosting the school's reputation was of major importance. He describes how the public lectures that began with the Division of Extension were a crucial factor in achieving this goal.

"... We did a good deal of publicity and got speakers speaking in Arabic, including Taha Hussein ... and Al Azhar students would come down in great bulks to take these lectures. ... That built a kind of spirit of goodwill between the foreigners, the Americans, and the local people."

Hanna Rizk, who served as Wendell Cleland's assistant director starting in 1925 and later took over as head of the division before going on to become the first Egyptian vice president of AUC, reflects on the unique freedom afforded to the program's lecturers in one of his reports:

"It is worthy of note that we never place any restrictions on what our lecturers may say and occasionally they may have been surprised when I have told them so. It is also remarkable that the freedom of our platform has never yet been abused by any lecturer."

Hanna Rizk

Rizk's emphasis on the freedom of expression within the division was also reflected in his encouragement of more small-scale and ongoing conversations at AUC about current events. The American University in Cairo: 1919-1987 by Lawrence R. Murphy (AUC Press, 1987) highlights the fact that, "In addition to large lectures, Rizk arranged smaller forums where questions of critical importance to Egypt could be discussed by a more select audience."

The school also screened films at Ewart Memorial Hall and beyond. Ghali Amin, an AUC graduate who worked for the division, noted in his oral history interview that the school began having weekly cinema shows after his first year in order to raise money. This began in 1934 "when families didn't go to public cinema, nor girls alone."

A season ticket cost 25 piasters for one seat in the hall and 30 for the balcony. The films were typically historical, social, scientific or based on literature. King of Kings, a 1927 film that depicts the last weeks of Jesus's life before crucifixion, was shown to a Christian-only audience 20 to 30 times per year around Easter.

"Once Cecil B. Dellille [the film's director] was in Cairo before Easter time. They took him around Ewart Hall to show him the poor Christian families who had come to see the film." Rizk added in a 1947 report: "The King of Kings film is not exhibited in Egypt in any place other than in Ewart Memorial Hall."

It was during this time that Umm Kulthum, the Palestine Orchestra and other major artists performed at Ewart Hall. "AUC was selected because of its good acoustics for recording," Amin said. Despite tumultuous times in Cairo and beyond, attendance remained consistent. Even during World War II, when there were air raids during shows and people would leave the theater into a blackout, "Programs [were] as popular as usual; films came as usual."

Health and Welfare

In the early days of the University, Egypt's rapid population growth prompted the Division of Extension to send its students to visit villages outside of Cairo. Their goal was to assess the challenges faced by the residents and explore ways to help. Cleland recalls the efforts in his oral history interview:

"... It was rather amazing the degree to which the local villagers accepted this kind of aid. We didn't ask them for anything; we offered just to help them."

One of the school's most successful public health campaigns, launched during this period, was the "Save the Eyes" initiative -- whose name was chosen by Rizk and approved linguistically by Taha Hussein. The campaign aimed to raise awareness of eye hygiene and prevent blindness, a pressing concern in Egypt's rural regions. By distributing leaflets, screening educational films and hosting local events, the campaign helped to address a critical health issue while demonstrating the division's ability to engage directly with the public.

Submissions for the "Save the Eyes" poster competition

The school also opened a Child Welfare Clinic in Cairo's Sayeda Zeinab neighborhood in late 1925. During its first six months of operation, the center served 1,294 people, giving 5,056 treatments, mostly to women and children, and operating a small girls-only school, according to minutes from a 1926 Board of Trustees meeting.

The report describes the clinic's location and services:

"The American tourist who occasionally visits this center first gets a ride through narrow, thickly populated streets, where an automobile has to creep and a few drops of rain make mud for two weeks. Just behind the famous tomb-mosque of Lady Zeinab, granddaughter of the Prophet, and near three other mosques, he descends from his car ... Up narrow stone steps he goes to the second story and there he is ushered into a bright, clean reception room from which he can watch events."

A visit to the clinic cost two and a half piasters; however, no one was turned away for inability to pay. Patients could also enjoy demonstrations on childcare, nutritional counseling, advice on cheap materials for creating cradles and bathtubs at home, and religious lessons.

SCE's Child Welfare Clinic in Sayeda Zeinab, Cairo

Evolving with Egypt

Throughout the years, SCE's curriculum has always been set based on the needs of the public. According to Osman Farrag, director of the Division of Public Service from 1966 to 1973 and professor emeritus of psychology, the school offered free courses in psychology, family planning and care for children with disabilities.

Osman Farrag

He describes in an oral history interview how many of the division's courses came to be during his tenure, and specifically how one conversation he would never forget launched one of SCE's most successful programs.

"A student [who] was studying English came to me and said, 'I am a chemical engineer and I am working in a textile factory. ... Suddenly after ten years I have been promoted and became the president of the company. I have 150,000 workers ... I am lost. ... I haven't had any experience in management or administration."

The student told Farrag that there were many like him -- teachers who became headmasters and doctors who were promoted to heads of hospitals. All of them had the same problem: they didn't know how to lead. "We started to offer this [business and public relations] program which flourished and is one of the most important areas of study at AUC now," Farrag said.

Similar stories led to the development of other tailored courses. Farrag describes special programs that upskilled government employees in

Egypt's ministries, such as a massive training program for agricultural workers under President Gamal Abdel Nasser's land reclamation program, and specialized English courses for diplomats, doctors, lawyers, businessmen and legislators. Under Farrag, the school also offered decoration engineering for movie producers and theaters, playwriting and secretarial studies, which was one of the most sought-after courses, he recalls.

"I had at that time a big problem facing the huge number of applicants who [wanted] to attend this course. To the extent that the police sometimes interfered in order to solve our problem because the pressure was tremendous. Why? Because in banks a good secretary can get starting from 3,000 pounds a month to 15,000 pounds a month. The AUC graduates in other departments cannot get this [much], so we used to receive applications from AUC graduates themselves. ... We used to accept about 200 every semester."

A Spirit of Service

To understand the SCE's commitment to community and service, one need only look at its administrators. Mohamed El Rashidi, who worked in the Division of Public Service and its successor, the Center for Adult and Continuing Education, from the late 1960s to the early 2000s, embodied this ethos, as his dedication often extended beyond his official role at AUC. He describes in his oral history interview that he was also in charge of civil defense, where he trained staff members in crisis management and first aid:

"Once, we had a fire at [Ewart Hall]. My people, my people whom I trained, put [out] the fire before the [firemen] came ... In '67, I helped all the Americans [evacuate during the war] ... I took them to Alexandria, put them on a bus to a hotel, and spent the night. And brought them from Alexandria, to Malta or Cyprus or some place. And I was the only Egyptian with them."

Rashidi's example of selfless service reflects the broader legacy of the Division of Extension and its successor programs, which, from their inception, aimed to bridge gaps -- whether through education, cultural exchange or social services. From addressing public health issues to creating new opportunities, SCE's enduring legacy of connection and care continues today.

As Rashidi put it, "CACE is [the] backbone of education in Egypt. ... Anywhere you go, you find our graduates, CACE graduates, holding very good jobs. ... Whether they are police officers, drivers, ministers, under secretaries of state -- they are everywhere, like nerves in a body."

 

<?xml encoding="UTF-8">

"I see life in sports," says Karim Hosny '05, head of purpose at Right to Dream Academy and co-founder of Nafas, a social enterprise that initiates and manages sports teams for Egypt's underserved youth. "There's teamwork, losses, people supporting each other. It's a positive ecosystem where you can learn a lot."

For Hosny, sports have always been a pillar of life. Growing up, he played basketball at Al Ahly Sporting Club. Later on, while studying business administration at AUC, he was captain of the basketball team and a member of the volleyball and football teams. After completing his MBA at the University of North Florida and landing a job in investment banking, he returned to the University as a part-time football coach. After realizing the profound influence athletics had on his life as well as the lives of his teammates, Hosny felt compelled to share this experience with the larger community.

In Cairo, most football pitches are costly to rent or tied to a private sporting club, leaving many children without access to such activities. "Sports have become a commodity in Egypt," Hosny says. "This is not right; there needs to be a place for children to play, to breathe."

While on a team trip in London, Hosny learned about Street Child United, a charity that hosts athletic games around the world for teams of street children. Later, at the Doha GOALS sports conference, he met the president of the Homeless World Cup. "Things started flowing from there," Hosny recalls. "This inspired us to take the leap from being a group of volunteers into establishing a structure."

Alongside fellow alumni, friends and colleagues, Hosny launched Nafas in 2012. The first team practiced twice per week at AUC's Khalaf Ahmad Al Habtoor Football and Track Stadium before setting off to Brazil to play in the 2014 Street Child World Cup. Nafas has since taken teams of boys and girls to Russia, Qatar, Hong Kong, the United Kingdom, Norway, the Netherlands and Mexico to compete in similar events.

"The main idea was to give children a breath, or nafas, from their daily lives through sports," Hosny says. "We aimed to complement the work of Cairo's NGOs to give youth opportunities, exposure and pathways -- basically, using sports for good."

The team in Rio de Janeiro, 2014
Photo courtesy of Abdallah Ezzat

Full Circle

Speaking with the now-adults whom Hosny coached a decade ago, the impact of Nafas is apparent. Among the initial Brazil team of nine was Abdallah Ezzat, who had grown up homeless and began living in a Cairo shelter at the age of 8. He was just 13 when the team went to Rio de Janeiro.

"My trip to Brazil was a transformative experience that I cherish," Ezzat reflects. "It inspired me to continue to grow and help others. The coaches, the support and love, the training, the hope -- it has all made a huge difference in my life."

After Brazil, Ezzat became an ambassador for Street Child United and went on to travel with the Nafas team to Russia and Qatar for the third and fourth editions of the Street Child World Cup. Last year, he launched FitLifeU, a social development project seeking to holistically support street children and orphans in Cairo by teaching them computer skills, nutrition and mental health, as well as offering career guidance.

He also gets to know the children outside of the classroom environment, often at dinners or events. "The importance of building connections is something that I learned from Karim and his friends," he says. "I'm trying to follow a similar path."

Ezzat stresses that effective support boils down to people. "The shelters and the system governing them have issues," he admits. "What really helped me the most in the shelter were the volunteers. Some of them were university students like Karim. They were very supportive and loving from the heart."

Hosny and Ezzat at the Street Child World Cup in Moscow, 2018
Photo courtesy of Abdallah Ezzat

The Greater Goal

Hosny is now head of purpose at Right to Dream Egypt, a football academy that provides student-athletes between the ages of 11 and 18 with coaching, education and soft skills development. "Right to Dream is like Nafas but more comprehensive," he says. "We provide everything: housing, food and education. The boys and girls are scouted as children from across Egypt and live at the organization's campus."

Hosny's work at Right to Dream allows him to blend his business savvy and passion for sports. Though he no longer spends his days running teams up and down the field, he hasn't forgotten the importance of staying involved and on the ground -- or in his case, outside on the pitch. "Positive sports environments create massive networks and pathways, both of which help societies grow," he says.

Hosny's network -- which includes hundreds of boys, girls, women and men -- has become a force for change, enabling children to follow their dreams within and beyond the realm of sports. As Hosny asserts, "In nurturing dreams, we create the athletes and leaders of tomorrow, shaping a brighter future for all."

 

<?xml encoding="UTF-8">

By Claire Davenport

May Kassem '05 isn't afraid to make a statement. Her brand, Scarabaeus Sacer, offers a green alternative to mainstream or fast fashion while raising awareness of social issues such as mental health.

The brand name refers to the ancient Egyptian scarab beetle, which is a symbol of rebirth and resurrection. And true to the name, Kassem is on a mission to revitalize Egypt's fashion scene. Kassem started Scarabaeus Sacer in 2018 with her husband Ali El Nawawi, looking to create positive impact while drawing on her background in psychology as well as her corporate experience. The brand was incubated by the AUC Venture Lab.

"I always speak very highly of my time at AUC," she said. "Combining your studies with extracurricular activities really shapes who you are funding, sponsorship and marketing -- even with things as simple as knowing how to present and pitch your ideas," she said.

Sustainability isn't just one factor, Kassem said. It's a combination of strategies to treat labor fairly and equitably, find materials locally, use eco-friendly resources, mitigate carbon emissions, reduce water and energy consumption, and make sure that every part of a product is sustainably sourced.

Scarabaeus Sacer has a transparent supply chain so consumers can see how their clothes are made from farm to closet. "Customers are able to scan a QR code, which will take them to an app where they can see images of every single part of the manufacturing process," Kassem said. "We also reduce waste by using everything that comes out of production, even the scraps."

For Kassem, a big part of the shift into an eco-friendly fashion future needs to be consumer-driven. "Consumers have the power to say no to unsustainable products and should also be on the lookout for certifications such as Fairtrade and Global Organic Textile Standard," campaigning through in-person events and live talks to bring this information to the forefront."

The Scarabaeus Sacer team is working to make its brand even more eco-conscious by experimenting with new inks and dyes sourced from veggies, fruits and other natural resources, as well as finding more sustainable packaging options and continuing to upcycle its lines.

In addition to sustainable fashion, a big part of Scarabaeus Sacer's advocacy work focuses on destigmatizing social issues. Their pilot collection was called "Mind, Body & Soul," focusing on mental health and well-being.

As Kassem noted, "If people walk down the street wearing one of our designs and someone says, 'Oh what's that about?' -- it starts a discussion on anxiety, depression, gender equality and discrimination."

Kassem is excited to watch the conscientious fashion movement grow in Egypt. "Every year, we see more people interested in living sustainably and having eco-friendly options. There is a demand, and now there is a supply. This is just how fashion has to be," she said.