Why I’m an Educator: Dalia Abbas, Ed.M.’19

When I turned 17, my parents made the bold decision to move our family to Cairo, Egypt. As wild as it sounds for a family of eight that had built their lives in the United States, it wasn’t an entirely unique immigrant story — parents ensuring their children get a foundation in America before returning to their homeland near retirement. Out of all the things I worried about — leaving my friends, my part-time job at an ice cream shop, and the sports teams I was part of — my biggest concern was my education. I had my eyes set on UC Berkeley and was relying on extracurriculars and SAT prep to get me there. Would Cairo have comparable opportunities? Did anyone there even talk about standardized testing? Would I have access to the AP courses I needed to stay on track?

Much to my surprise (due to my naïve assumptions), Egypt had an incredible selection of high-quality private schools. The choices seemed endless: British, American, International Baccalaureate systems — if you could afford the tuition and pass the entrance exams. After some jaw-dropping moments scanning tuition prices, my parents chose an all-girls American school for me and my sister. Though accustomed to the all-inclusive public schools of California, they quickly decided the investment was worth it, giving us the foundation to decide whether we’d stay in Egypt or return to the United States.

Initially, I dreamed of joining the foreign service after college. I figured it was the perfect way to use my basic Arabic skills and see the world. But as I settled into life in Cairo, I became increasingly aware of the stark inequities in education, and I realized my true calling was not diplomacy but education.

Attending an expensive international school where my peers’ families had successful businesses or lived abroad, I saw the privilege I’d been handed. For many Egyptian students, education was not so accessible. Public schools often left students dependent on costly afterschool tutoring just to pass exams. When I asked why, a cousin explained that teachers’ salaries were so low they would save their actual teaching for paid lessons outside the classroom. This baffled me. Growing up, I had access to free math tutoring at my middle school. The idea of parents paying for public school teachers to do their jobs
was beyond my comprehension.

Over time, I began to understand that education systems worldwide are steeped in inequity. Even in the United States, inequities manifest in zoning regulations, underfunded programs, and disparities between districts. But at 17, the realization that a public school could fail to provide the basics deeply unsettled me. I became determined to understand why these inequities existed and how they might be addressed through alternative education models that give everyone a fair shot at building the lives they want.

The turning point came one afternoon when I joined my cousin and her son for a family outing. Her son, about 7 years old, returned home from school and called to the porter’s daughter — a girl only slightly older than him — to carry his backpack up four flights of stairs. The image stopped me in my tracks. Didn’t this girl have books of her own to carry? Why wasn’t she in school? When I asked my cousin, she explained that while education was a legal right in Egypt, many parents kept their children home to contribute to the household income.

In that moment, my path became clear. Education had to be my focus. Everyone deserves the chance to learn, regardless of income, background, or nationality. I wanted to be part of the solution, creating opportunities for people of all ages and walks of life to access education that could transform their futures.

Since then, my journey has been anything but linear. I studied history and political science at American University in Cairo. After graduation, I taught English and history internationally for five years, later moving to San Jose, California, where I hoped to bring my global perspective into a U.S. classroom. Though I loved teaching, the Silicon Valley ethos of scaling great experiences captured my imagination, leading me to pursue my master’s at HGSE.

Since earning my degree, my guiding star has been to create alternative education models for learners of all backgrounds. Now, at Ziplines Education, I design courses in artificial intelligence prompting and project management to help busy professionals upskill and thrive in their careers.

What I’ve learned is that educational inequity exists everywhere. But initiatives focused on creating equitable, alternative models offer a powerful way to dismantle these systems. One message that stayed with me from HGSE was shared on my first day of orientation. [Former] Dean Bridget Terry Long reflected that the central experience of law is justice, and in health, it’s wellness. In education, it’s equity.

That word, equity, fuels my passion. I think back to the porter’s daughter, carrying someone else’s backpack when she should have been preparing for her own show-and-tell project. I dream of a future where she and others who missed out on education when they were young have access to lifelong learning opportunities that allow them to shape the lives they choose.

Dalia Abbas, Ed.M.’19, is a senior learning designer at Ziplines Education.