Latest news with #EnglishDepartment
Yahoo
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
My Generation's Obsession With ChatGPT Is Bigger Than Cheating — It's Changing Who We Are
In tenth grade, I laughed when a classmate of mine told me that his entire essay on The Great Gatsby was written by ChatGPT. What could a robot possibly have to say about a literary masterpiece written a century before the robot was even conceived? At the time, I didn't fully know what ChatGPT was; I'd heard many references swirling with increasing frequency through our school hallways, but not having had any firsthand experience with this mysterious technology, I thought of it more as a punchline to a joke. I had no idea at all what it was capable of. Not long after my friend's confession to me, he got caught. He received an ominous email from the head of the English Department and the principal of the school; his initial reaction was to try to rope me into his debacle. 'Can I please just say you wrote it?' he begged me. I have the reputation of being a somewhat decent writer, one with a moral compass (hence his idea that my potential association would somehow make things better for him), and he thought this excuse would be more palatable than the notion that a robot did his homework for him. More from SheKnows Gen Z Is Bragging About 'Getting Cracked' on TikTok - & It May Not Mean What You Think Out of sheer curiosity, I asked to read the essay that he feared would trigger his professional downfall. My expectations were low, but when I read it, I was shocked. The pages of literary analysis in front of me were coherent and convincing — and certainly not written by my friend (he is a very smart student, but one without any interest in writing or literature). A few days later, my curiosity still unquenched, I opened up the ChatGPT website, and on a whim, I made an account (NOT, of course, with my school email). A guilty thrill surged through me as I did this. I felt like I was dealing with some sort of contraband, some foreign technology from aliens millions of miles away. I was overcome by a sense of shame as I created a password. But it all happened so easily, and ultimately, I pushed ahead with it. I tested the machine, asking it to write a poem in the style of Lana Del Rey. The results were no 'Summertime Sadness,' but I was thoroughly impressed by how quickly and convincingly the computer produced its facsimile. Then came the real moment of truth. I'd already done my bio assignment for the next day, and I was curious to see if ChatGPT could match my accomplishment. Robot-free, the homework had taken me a good two hours. How long might it take the machine? I pasted in my homework question (no typing necessary), and hit enter. Within mere seconds, the software produced a long bullet point that was smart, but still wouldn't work for the short answer format required. Nonetheless, it had plenty of potential, and — I soon discovered — the small issue of its composition was eminently fixable. I simply typed in a new missive: Turn the answer into short sentences. Less than 10 seconds later, I was reading a computer-derived, full-sentence-answer that was not just serviceable, it was actually good. I'm a member of Gen Z; I've grown up in a smart home with smartphones and a smart car. But nothing could have prepared me sufficiently for what I'd just witnessed. I could not begin to wrap my head around the seductive reality that — in less than a minute — a computer had produced a completed homework assignment, one that I'd spent the past two hours working on; and the machine had done at least as good a job as I had done — without ever showing up for a single class. I made a pact with myself — right there, despite any possible temptation — that I'd never use ChatGPT (even in a pinch), partly because I value my writing above pretty much everything else I do (I certainly don't want a computer putting words in my mouth), and partly because I'm not inherently a cheater. Still, I could see why this new technology would be an enticing proposition to just about anyone human, maybe because they're too tired to work after a long day of other stuff, or maybe they just want an easy fix when faced with an impossible deadline. Either way, temptation is temptation. And the statistics bear out the fact that ChatGPT's lure, especially for my generation, is very real — and it's growing exponentially. According to a Pew Research study, roughly one in four teens now admits to using ChatGPT for their schoolwork, a number that's doubled in just a year. Twenty-nine percent say it's okay to use ChatGPT to solve math problems, and 18 percent say the same thing about using it to write essays. Clearly, this is a matter not just of temptation, but also of understanding the definition of cheating — in a new world where robots get intimately involved in that process. ChatGPT is the easiest way out. It can do anything from writing an essay to solving an equation. But for teens who — by definition — are still learning how to write and think, getting a computer to do our work for us is just about the worst thing for developing our brains. My generation was one of the first to have screens placed in front of us before we could even read or write, and now, AI is calling our names. AI is especially vocal in the wee hours of the morning when a big paper or assignment is due later that day. I know this from watching my friends and classmates over FaceTime as a deadline approaches with the coming morning. To be sure, kids who are inclined to cheat will always find a way to do it, whether robots exist or not. But now cheating is so much easier — and, by extension, so much more irresistible. Beyond the moral crisis of more widespread cheating, the effects of ChatGPT are detrimental to education itself. That fact is evident even when ChatGPT is used for legitimate purposes. For example, ChatGPT can be helpful for taking notes or summarizing articles, but research shows that teens who use it that way fail to absorb information as well as they would if they were taking the notes themselves. In a study conducted by the University of Pennsylvania, a group of high schoolers was divided in half before a math test: One group was allowed to use AI to study, and the other was not. While the group allowed to use AI did much better on practice tests, the group without access to AI outperformed the AI group on the actual test — when AI was no longer available to either group. Compounding the issue of compromised education is the larger existential question of my generation's very future. From the front lines of teen AI-usage, I see a dark horizon off in the distance, but getting closer constantly. The future is a place where writing and thinking — if not entirely terminated as we know them — have certainly morphed into a shadow of what they once were. And our collective identity is collateral damage. Learning to write is how we also learn to define ourselves. Writing is not just an outlet for our thoughts, it's also a means by which we figure out who we are — through self-expression, deliberate reflection, and the verbal exploration of ideas and perspectives. Literacy helps form our ability to think and to question the world around us. But AI threatens to undermine our individual voices and our authentic human thoughts, replacing all of that with a computer-driven generic brand of 'perfection.' In order to speak for ourselves, we must think for ourselves, and in order to think for ourselves, we have to put some distance between us and the computers threatening to take our thoughts away. The alternative to that sort of action could be detrimental to society itself. As for my friend who got busted for his AI essay on The Great Gatsby, he did not end up getting expelled or even suspended. Instead, he was given a stern warning — and then forced to write the essay himself. He complied, and did a decent job on it. Even if the computer hit all the right points, my friend's essay turned out to have a lot more humanity. Mistakes, grammatical or analytical, can be a beautiful thing, especially at our age, when the emphasis should be more on learning than on mere performance. The larger story of ChatGPT promises a far less happy ending. To understand that, I need look no further my Gatsby friend, who soon went back to using ChatGPT for his other assignments. And he's not alone; the number of people using it in my grade is only growing. This is a widespread problem, to which I don't profess to have a solution. But what I do know is this: The technology at stake is moving quickly, and we don't have much time to figure it out. Best of SheKnows These Raw & Beautiful Breastfeeding Photos Show There's No 'Right' Way to Nurse 'But I Hate School': What To Do When Your Teen Dreads Going Back Rugged Meets Romantic in These 'Quiet Western' Names: All the Charm, None of the Grit Solve the daily Crossword
New Indian Express
5 days ago
- Business
- New Indian Express
Codes and creeds in freelancing
She spoke about the importance of professionalism in freelancing — from email etiquette and invoicing to client contracts and boundary-setting. She stressed that a successful freelance career demands more than creative skill; it requires consistency, clarity, and a strong mindset. A passage from the book, read aloud by Satyabama, struck a chord with the audience: 'The higher the price, the higher your quality of leads and results will need to break free from your mental prison and let your value shine.' While the publishing industry and creative careers reel under the weight of artificial intelligence, Meenakshi offered a grounded perspective that cut through the hype. Addressing a question on AI's influence in content creation, she said, 'I believe AI is great at giving information, but the voice and the tone — that only you can bring in.' Her advice to freelancers: 'AI is a tool. It should be used as a collaborator, not a competitor.' She reframed AI from being a looming presence to a partner in process — capable of offering suggestions, but not stealing the soul of the work. 'Let's say I have writer's block or I want a structure for something. If I key in a prompt into ChatGPT, I would get a couple of ideas. I might then pick and choose from that and craft it in my own way.' In the closing remarks, Dr Jayalakshmi, head of the English Department, said, 'It's inspiring to see how she dealt with everything from ghosting clients to difficult conversations — and still kept at it.' She added with a smile, 'Seeing the brave attitude and resilience in our students makes me think — maybe I should freelance too.'
Scroll.in
28-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Scroll.in
Brinda Karat writes about her college days at Miranda House and their lifelong impact on her
I was fortunate in the relationships I developed with many of my teachers, especially two senior lecturers who were in charge of the drama society. In our first year, both my roommate Madhu Chopra and I got involved with the drama society. This was an involvement that dominated my three years in college and after, to the extent that I seriously wanted to become a professional theatre artist. It was through my activity in the drama society that I developed a close relationship with the two kind and protective teachers most responsible for its functioning, in whom I would confide my childish fears and dreams. Both taught in the English Department. The first was Krishna Essauloff and the other was Lola Chatterjee. Mrs E, as she was known then, was tall, dark, imposing, a chain smoker, caustic, sarcastic, and harsh in her criticisms and equally generous in her praise. It was she who was the driving force behind the society. She was an unconventional woman, and what attracted us to her was the complete absence of a judgmental attitude towards the sometimes foolish antics of her flock in the drama society. In those days, we were not allowed to wear trousers to class. So, we used to wear them under long skirts, and as soon as classes were over, we would bound into the auditorium and fling off our skirts, much to the amusement of Mrs E. She was a disciplinarian about the rehearsals, and young men who used to come to our play readings, ostensibly to audition for parts, but actually to get to know the girls, were shown the door soon enough. She had a beautiful reading voice, and sometimes when we were tired, Mrs E would pull out a book of plays and read out her favourite extracts to us. Mrs Chatterjee was easily accessible and demonstrative in her affection. She opened her home to me, taking me to concerts and plays outside of college. I remained in touch with her for many years. She was a strong support for me through my years in college. For too brief a time, perhaps just a term, I was taught economics by Devaki Srinivasan (now Devaki Jain), who had recently joined the college. She made a big impression on me with her passion and articulation, and I still remember the anger with which she spoke about the inequalities of the Indian economy. I met her decades later when she was chairing a women's meeting, identifying herself firmly with women's struggles. Another person whom I learnt to respect was our sports coach, Ms Dhillon. A gruff and no-nonsense exterior hid her warm and generous heart. She was always concerned about the health and well-being of her 'team'. I was then a member of the Miranda House (MH) Athletics team. Although, alas, I brought no laurels to the college, I did enjoy our practice sessions under her eagle eye! I relate later in this, remembering my experience at the university sports day – when once again, Ms Dhillon was there rooting for us! My own experience underlines the important influence teachers have on their students. I hope that this tradition of nurturing and encouraging young women and helping them to 'grow up' without patronising them continues. I'm not sure how important the drama society is in the lives of students at the college today. In those days, the college plays were a great event, and the hall used to be jam-packed on all three days that the show was produced. If MH girls were acting in plays in other colleges, one could be sure of the support from a big group of girls from the college who would be there on opening night. It was the same with those who were part of the debating society. We would all go in big groups to cheer them on. Students took an active part in the different societies of the college. This developed quite a feeling of solidarity. We were mainly competing against the men;s colleges. The feeling that we had to do better than them was quite strong. When we used to act in St Stephen's plays, we would make it quite clear that it had to be a quid pro quo for our drama society. Once the exam results were out, there were always comparisons as to whether we had done better than the men's colleges or not. As students, we used to get into heated arguments against the assumption that men's colleges were better. I remember how, in a group discussion about making St Stephen's or MH co-ed, the MH girls participating were unanimous in their opposition to the proposal as far as MH was concerned. There were cases of sexual harassment on the campus. We were always warned by our seniors not to go walking on the ridge, as there were frequent cases of assault in the isolated lanes. My worst experience with such harassment was during university athletics, when I was representing the college in the 50 and 100-metre races. I was quite miserable, having been disqualified in the 50m for jumping the gun three times in a row, which, I was told later, was a record in the University! The humiliating walk off the field in front of a huge crowd was probably the longest walk I have ever had to take, but fortunately, there were quite a number of MH students there along with Ms Dhillon. We were in a group just outside the university grounds gate when we were surrounded by a bigger group of hoodlums who started pushing themselves on us, specifically calling out my name. Our only thought was how to escape, and we did manage to get to our gates safely. Today, women's struggles on campus have ensured that such an incident would not go unnoticed and that the victims themselves, unlike us, would raise a protest to ensure punishment for those guilty. This is a result of women's movements and actions by democratic student organisations. There is also a much greater awareness of legal rights now. On that occasion, although there were a lot of talks that night in the hostel about it, we did not take any action, and indeed, we did not really know what action we could take since we did not recognise any of them. I appreciate the big development of consciousness on these issues when I see large numbers of female students from MH and other colleges joining demonstrations against cases of sexual assault, often leading to militant slogan shouting. Another area in which there has been a most welcome change is the abolition of the Miss Fresher contest. This was one of the many 'traditions' of the college. It was a mandatory parade of all the freshers dressed up to the teeth before a huge crowd of yelling, cheering students of the college. In my second year, when I was one of the judges, I was acutely conscious of the trauma of the experience for so many of the girls who hated it. The results of the MH Miss Fresher contest were a source of interest among some of the male students on the campus. When I happened to have been the person selected in my first year, walking around the campus was sometimes a horrible experience because I heard the most objectionable comments. I was happy when, several years later, by which time I had joined the Students Federation in Calcutta in the thick of the students' movement, having enrolled as a casual student in the university there, I heard that the MH union had ended this tradition. I am sometimes asked how I could have been part of such a contest. The simple truth is that, at the age of 16, I did not know better. At the end of my second year, a tragedy occurred, which had the biggest impact on all of us in the hostel. It brought us face-to-face with violent jealousy and the reality of a woman as a belonging, as property to be destroyed if she could not be possessed. Our group of close friends consisted of about seven or eight of us. Juhi and Sudha shared a room, then Renu and Sushma, who were roommates, Madhu and me, and there was also Sara, who shared a room with her younger sister. We were all from different backgrounds and different parts of the country, and though each of us did have friends outside the circle, in the hostel, we spent a lot of time together. Sushma was also on the athletic team. She was good at the shot put and javelin. Perhaps it was because of that talent that she came to be called 'Shot'. It was a name that would haunt us for several years. Tall, well-built, with a radiant smile and deep dimples – I can see her so clearly, even today. She was popular in the hostel, and we always knew of her arrival because we could hear her singing far down the corridor. Sushma was in the process of getting out of an engagement with someone much older than her. I cannot recall now whether the engagement was with the approval of her parents or otherwise. She had tried to break it off on several occasions but would be persuaded by him to get back together. Finally, she wrote to him and said that she did not want to see him again. She read out the letter for our approval. Several months passed. He was in the army, posted quite far away from Delhi. I remember the long talks we had and the sense of relief in her that it was over. One day, Sushma got a letter from him saying that he wanted to meet her to return her letters. She told us about it. All of us were against her going; we tried to persuade her, but she said she did not want to hurt him, and anyway, she wanted her letters back. I think it was Renu who volunteered to get them for her since she knew him. Sushma refused. 'I can't be so cruel,' she said. There was nothing we could say or do to make her budge. Madhu and I left for her cousin's house, where we were to spend the night. It was the last time we saw Sushma alive. We got a message late that night. Sushma had gone to the university café to meet him. Barely had she sat down when he shot her through the head. He then turned the gun on himself and fired. He died instantaneously. Sushma was taken to the hospital, but she did not survive the night. The next few days are blurred in my memory. We returned to the hostel. Everywhere there were groups of shocked, crying girls – Shot has been shot – whispers, sobbing. We sat huddled outside what used to be her room. Nobody wanted to leave. The hostel and college authorities were extremely sympathetic. We were called in by the principal, and she spoke kind words to console us. The hostel made arrangements to take us to her funeral. The family had requested that only a few of us go. We said goodbye to Shot, laid down on a cold block of ice. But the college got bad press. The sensational way it was reported upset all of us greatly. It was our first experience of something like that. It became a matter of gossip and speculation. The attitude of the University union was also reported to be extremely negative, blaming the college for laxity. For a while, the rules at the hostel got stricter. Visitors were more carefully screened. Gate passes were checked repeatedly. Soon, however, things got back to normal. But not for us. Everything changed after that. We felt restless and depressed. We tried to make sense of all that had happened and why. We were beset with guilt. Could we not have saved her had we prevented her from going? Quite broken in spirit, we all left for the holidays. It was fortunate for all of us that we could go home. I came back in July 1965 as a final-year student. My younger sister, Radha, joined college that year, which made the term bearable. There were new faces and new experiences, which kept us busy and diverted us. That year was also dominated by the Indo-Pak War. The security of the girls in the hostel was of great concern to the college authorities. Meetings were held with the principal, the warden, and the union representatives. In an emergency general body meeting, we were told that those who had local guardians to stay with could temporarily shift outside the hostel. Ms Dhillon set up a drill for the rest of us. Volunteers to patrol the hostel in groups of eight or ten were asked for. There was no dearth of them. We felt that we were playing a very important role. Every night, eight or ten girls would walk up and down the corridors. It may have served little purpose, but the girls took great pride in contributing to the 'war effort.' Strict instructions were given that as soon as there was an air raid siren, everyone had to rush down to the ground floor, where we were all assigned rooms. But a sense of the kind of jingoism raging outside came in the form of the 'Pakistani spy'. One day, there was a rumour that a Pakistani spy had been caught quite near our hostel and that the police had apprehended a tall, fair man with light eyes. Embellished versions of the story spread like wildfire. We heard that students were roaming around the campus looking for others in his gang. When we asked some of the lecturers about it, they said it was just a rumour. Perhaps it was part of a motivated campaign. Today, facing the onslaught of communal propaganda and the use of religion for narrow political ends, I wonder whether it was because there were no communal currents in the hostel at that time or because we were so politically naïve that we did not know what was happening. We were completely isolated from it. The other aspect is that there were hardly any minority community students in the hostel, and we never directly faced the issue of minority baiting, which one learnt was taking place elsewhere in the city. The year was spent catching up on academics. We were also preoccupied with what we were going to do after college. In those days, joining the IAS was a popular idea. Some wanted to teach. I remember some of the students being quite resigned to the idea of getting married right after graduation. Indeed, there were quite a few engagements we had celebrated during the last term. As for me, I was as yet undecided but strongly drawn to a career in theatre, following the dream that had been born in me on that dusty Miranda House stage. It is a different story that life and events took me in a totally different direction. I sometimes visit MH and meet with the students, who are conscious, articulate, and so much more aware of the world, their place in it, and how they would like to change it than we ever were. I am so happy to see this fundamental change. In the corridors I pass through on these occasional visits, in my mind's eye, I see the shadows of that young group of women, their arms slung together, absorbed in talk and laughter, unaware of the impermanence of that feeling of freedom. Brinda Karat is a member of the Polit Bureau of the CPI (M). She has worked in various capacities in over half a century of involvement in struggles for social change as an office bearer in trade unions, as the General Secretary of the All India Democratic Women's Association, as Vice President of the Adivasi Adhikar Rashtriya Manch, and as a Member of the Rajya Sabha.
The Citizen
12-07-2025
- General
- The Citizen
St John's College welcomes new Dr's to their teaching staff
St John's College welcomes two new doctoral graduates to its academic community. The school also congratulates Reverend Dr Matthew Wright and Dr Michael Boyd on their recent doctoral achievements. The Reverend Dr Matthew Wright, from the Chaplaincy, completed a thesis titled Exegeting the Parable of the Lost Sheep (Matthew 18:12–14; Luke 15:4–7) and the Good Shepherd Discourse (John 10:1–16) in Light of Insights into Caprine Husbandry Practices of First-century Judea and Galilee. His research explored Biblical Studies through the lens of the animal economy in first-century Judea and Galilee. It reveals how the Jewish Temple's sacrificial cult created a demand for large-scale sheep production, contrasting with traditional pastoral practices, and examines the interactions and tensions between these two systems. Also read: The Africa Children's Summit held at St Johns College empowers youth Dr Michael Boyd, from the English Department, completed a thesis titled Reading for the Road: Routes Through African Literatures, which analyses the role of roads and infrastructure in three seminal African novels: Ben Okri's The Famished Road (Nigeria), Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o's Petals of Blood (Kenya), and Alan Paton's Cry, The Beloved Country (South Africa). His study offered valuable insights into how physical infrastructure shapes political, economic, and social dynamics within these works and the countries they represent. The doctors join an esteemed group of PhD holders at the College, including Drs Nkosiphile Bhebhe, Alistair Douglas, and Nyiko Mahonisi in Physical Sciences; Drs Elise Lemmer, Grethe Nöthling, and Allan Thompson in Music; Dr Stephen Sproule, Head of Mathematics; and Dr Craig Higginson in the English Department. St John's College's head of marketing and communications, Jacqui Deeks said, 'With 10 PhDs now among our teaching community, we celebrate the depth of academic expertise at St John's College. They add to an already highly qualified and experienced teaching staff where rigorous academic inquiry, professional excellence and a passion for education inspire curiosity, critical thought and a lifelong love of learning in our students. Follow us on our Whatsapp channel, Facebook, X, Instagram, and TikTok for the latest updates and inspiration! Have a story idea? We'd love to hear from you – join our WhatsApp group and share your thoughts! At Caxton, we employ humans to generate daily fresh news, not AI intervention. Happy reading!
Ya Biladi
29-06-2025
- Business
- Ya Biladi
Diaspo #395 : Hicham Amrani, the Moroccan training Gulf leaders in the art of public speaking
From the ancient streets of Fez to training platforms across the Gulf, and from the lecture halls of the Faculty of Arts to the book-signing tables of the Sharjah International Book Fair, Moroccan professional Hicham Amrani has traced a unique path, where a love for learning meets human connection, and where self-discovery fuels a drive to make an impact. From Fez to the United States Born in Fez in 1975, Hicham Amrani pursued his higher education in the English Department at Sidi Mohamed Ben Abdellah University. After graduating in the summer of 1999, he took a leap and joined a cultural exchange program in Orlando, Florida, working for a year as a cultural representative at Disney—a formative experience that would open new and unexpected doors. In an interview with Yabiladi, he recalled: «After that year, thanks to a generous scholarship, I was accepted to the University of Pennsylvania», where he pursued a master's degree in political science while also studying Arabic and other subjects. «It wasn't easy», he admitted, «but I overcame the challenges because studying in the U.S. had always been my dream». Amrani later enrolled in a PhD program in international relations at the London School of Economics. However, due to personal circumstances, he had to pause his studies. That decision led him to a new chapter in the United Arab Emirates (UAE). «I initially went to visit my brother», he said, «and ended up working in public relations, strategic communication, and marketing for two years». He then moved to Canada, spending three and a half years in the financial sector. «I obtained several certificates and diplomas in finance, which helped a lot professionally. But I knew deep down that finance wasn't my final path, I've always been drawn to more creative fields». Serendipity and a Thousand Appointments Amrani eventually returned to the UAE, motivated by three things: his existing network, his fluency in English, and the region's dynamic economic and technological environment. He joined APCO Worldwide, a global strategic communications firm, working with local and federal government institutions. There, he began to gain recognition in the Gulf as a communications expert. «One event changed everything», he said. «We received a call from a high-level official preparing to speak at a global forum. He needed a coach to help him with his speech. My director assigned me the task, and I accepted without hesitation. I've always believed there's no room for 'I don't know' in our field. I encourage my team to embrace challenges because growth starts with courage». At the time, Amrani was training media professionals to handle cameras and tough interview questions. After a week of coaching, the official delivered his speech and personally thanked Amrani. He later recommended him to other influential figures. «Within eight months, my role shifted significantly, from consultant to trainer». He gradually began coaching high-profile clients and soon became a certified trainer for several major figures in the region. «With God's grace and my parents' blessings, I carved out a place for myself in the training field», he said. «I continued my education and earned multiple certifications in a field that values communication as a powerful tool, not just for delivery, but for shaping perceptions and public opinion». In 2015, Amrani founded his own firm dedicated to training and strategic consulting in communication and leadership. His services soon expanded to clients across the Gulf. Writing During Lockdown «When the COVID-19 lockdown hit, I found myself, like many, with a lot of unexpected free time», he said. «One night, I just opened my laptop and started writing. In a single session, I finished ten pages. Two days later, I reread them and realized I had the beginning of something bigger». He shared the draft with a British friend who encouraged him to continue, saying: «This deserves to be published». By 2023, Amrani had completed and polished his first book, SPEAK LIKE A VIP: A Practical Guide to Mastering the Art of Public Speaking. It debuted in November 2024 at the Sharjah International Book Fair. «What made it even more special», he said, «was the incredible coincidence : Morocco was the guest of honor that year». Amrani said the warm reception from the Moroccan pavilion team was deeply meaningful and reinforced that the effort had been worth it. The book generated strong interest, and many readers later sought out training based on its contents. He also launched an Instagram page to promote the book. «Many clients who read it came back to me asking for coaching and workshops related to its themes». He is now working on translating the book into Arabic and plans to launch the Arabic edition at the 2025 Sharjah International Book Fair. «I hope to also organize a book signing in Morocco, whether at the Rabat International Book Fair or another cultural event, that would be an honor». For Deeper and More Impactful Training This year, Amrani enrolled in a master's program in neuroscience and psychology at King's College London. «This is a natural extension of my work», he explained. «A large part of what I do involves understanding human behavior, especially how people react under stress or pressure. I touched on that in the first part of my book». «Studying how the brain works and how it influences decision-making allows me to offer training that's grounded in science, not just intuition|, he added. Despite his international career, Hicham Amrani remains deeply connected to Morocco. «Whenever I have the chance, I talk about Morocco—its history, its culture, its people. I truly believe that every person abroad, even unofficially, is an ambassador for their country». In 2018, he organized his first conference in Morocco, The Conference on Happiness and Human Development, in Casablanca. «The turnout and engagement were incredible», he said. «I wanted to continue the series, but juggling logistics between two countries made it difficult», he regretted.
