Poetry from Maftuna Rustamova

Young Central Asian teen girl posing with an award and a book in a room with cutouts of her national leaders.

ZULFIYAKHANIM

Uzbek women’s,

Nomusi and arysi

Of patience and perseverance,

Without an infinite ocean

Your life path is original,

Is one fiction book

Darkness dims light,

Exclamation to light

Saras of poets

Poems excellent barisi

Elegant as a spring flower

We-chun dear, dear

Awards and orders

Established in this

Zulfiyakhanim daughter

I’ll be on a fast day.

Open to science hand

Hold on to us hand

To Uzbek women

You showed the great way.

Maftuna Rustamova of the Bukhara region, Jondor district, Rabot village, 30th secondary school pupil

Essay from Aytuvova Khurshida

Central Asian young woman with long dark hair and a tan jacket and blouse.

PSYCHOLOGICAL APPROACHES IN CHILDREN’S EDUCATION

Scientific article 

Author: Aytuvova Xurshida 

Emile: ( aytuvovaxurshida@gmail.comAnnotation This article analyzes the importance of psychological approaches in children’s education, their types and impact on the educational process. Through humanistic, cognitive and socio-educational approaches, the child’s development as a person, learning motivation, emotional state and individual approaches are considered as important factors. This article provides practical recommendations for teachers, psychologists and specialists in the field of education. Keywords child psychology, educational process, humanistic approach, motivation, emotional development, cognitive development, individual approach, pedagogical psychology Introduction In the modern educational process, an approach taking into account the psychological state of the child has become an integral part of pedagogical activity. In contrast to traditional approaches, today there is an increasing need to take into account individual, personal and socio-emotional factors in the educational process. The development of a child as a person, his success in the educational process, social adaptation and self-confidence are largely closely related to psychological factors. 

Main part

1. Types of psychological approaches There are several main approaches in pedagogical psychology:

Humanistic approach: This approach puts the child at the center. Famous psychologists A. Maslow and K. Rogers emphasize the importance of giving the child trust, respect, and freedom for personal growth in their humanistic theories. – Cognitive approach: This method is aimed at developing children’s mental processes such as thinking, memory, and attention. J. Piaget’s theory of intellectual development is an example of this. – Socio-educational approach: This theory, put forward by A. Bandura, shows that children can learn by observing the behavior of others. This indicates the need for education through a positive example from teachers and parents.

2. Taking into account the psychological characteristics of the child The psychological development of a child varies at each age. Children aged 6–10 are more prone to figurative thinking and prefer to learn based on real situations. Also, self-assessment, socialization, and motivational factors are of great importance during this period. 

3. 3. The influence of motivation and emotional state Motivation is one of the main factors that shape a child’s internal desire to learn. In an educational environment with a favorable psychological climate, children develop more actively, freely express their thoughts, and are creative. A kind, patient, and understanding teacher increases a child’s interest in learning. 4. Individual approach and differentiated education Each child has his or her own psychological and mental potential. A differentiated approach, that is, an approach based on the level of abilities of each student, increases the quality of education. In this process, diagnostic methods (psychological tests, interviews, observations) are used.

Conclusion

The effective use of psychological approaches in education not only increases children’s academic achievement, but also helps them develop personally, gain self-confidence, and find their place in society. A teacher should not only be a provider of knowledge, but also an understanding and guide for the child. Therefore, special attention should be paid to the cooperation of a teacher and a psychologist in the modern education system.

Aytuvova Khurshida was born on June 5, 2002 in Saykhunabad district of Syrdarya region. She graduated from the Faculty of Philology of Gulistan State University, Russian language department. Official delegate of several forums, member of international organizations. Member of the International Writers’ Association “Juntos por las Letras” of Argentina. Her creative works have been published in international newspapers and magazines. Author of her personal book “Stories in Silence” and the international anthology “Miracles of Creativity”. Her stories have also been published in the republican anthology “Mouths of Creativity” and in the republican magazine “Ijodkorlar”

Poetry from Nasir Aijaz

Older Arab man with a bald head, white collared shirt, and glasses

Walking on Embers – A Long Poem

Living in today’s society

Is like walking on embers,

A perpetual burn,

A relentless trial.

No sign of transformation,

No hope for change in the social fabric,

Only a landscape riddled with evils,

Shadowed by devils lurking in every corner.

My fire-walk has persisted through millennia,

Embers scattered in shallow trenches,

A bed of hot coals beneath my feet,

Each step an act of silent defiance.

Sometimes I slow,

Careful to spare my bare skin,

A cautious pause amid the flames.

But slowing isn’t relief;

It’s a false refuge,

For the end of this journey

Still remains distant, obscured by smoke.

I must press on,

Walking still on fire,

Knowing my feet are destined to burn,

Yet unable to cease the walk

Through the inferno of a broken society.

The evils thrive with hidden grace,

Wearing a thousand nameless face.

Devils dine at golden feasts,

While I walk fire, seeking peace.

Sometimes I slow—

Then I run, but speed deceives,

The fire clings like autumn leaves.

No finish line, no cooling stream,

Just endless heat, and broken dream.

This is my journey, forged by time,

A millennial path of soot and grime.

No miracle to lift this curse,

Each step a verse in a burning verse.

Yet still I walk, I do not fall—

Though flames consume, I heed the call.

To walk through fire is to survive,

To burn, and still remain alive.

I continue walking on fire

Not to escape but to remember

Pain proves I was here.

The fire doesn’t chase.

It waits.

It knows I’ll come back.

This is how I earn each breath.

Not with healing,

But with friction.

You think fire screams.

It doesn’t.

It hums, like a neon sign in a forgotten alley.

I walk not because I’m brave.

I walk because stillness would be worse.

You’d think I’d get used to it,

This burning

But every step is a fresh confession.

I don’t want rescue.

I want to feel the edge.

To remember that pain is proof,

That I’m still awake.

I walk

In the silence we’ve built

The kind that hums beneath electric lights

And flickers

Between headlines and sighs.

There are no gods here.

No miracles.

Only buildings that lean like tired elders,

Built from ash,

Still pretending to be stone.

And so I walk.

Sometimes slowly,

Because the pain demands attention,

Each step a sermon,

Each burn a truth I never asked for.

Other times,

I run.

But the fire follows.

It clings

Like stories we tell ourselves

To sleep at night.

There is no finish line.

No cool stream waiting beyond the bend.

Just more heat.

Just more sky.

Just more walking.

This is what it means

To live with eyes open.

To know there is no rescue.

To choose the fire anyway.

I do not walk for glory.

I do not walk to be healed.

I walk

Because to stop

Would be to forget

That I was ever alive.

_____________

Light in the Darkness

By Nasir Aijaz

One day, there will be light in the darkness,

A dawn to break this endless night.

Though shadows stretch without a mercy,

I walk alone, yet hold on tight.

A tunnel deep, so cold and hollow,

No stars above, no signs ahead,

Yet every step, though faint and faltered,

Is guided by the hope I’ve fed.

The walls may whisper doubt and sorrow,

The silence press upon my chest,

But still I move, with dreams unbroken,

A quiet fire within my breast.

No map, no voice, no hand to lead me,

No promise written in the sky,

And yet, I trust the dark is fleeting,

And light will come — by and by.

For faith is not in what we witness,

But in what we choose to see:

A distant spark, a gleam of purpose,

A truth that sets the spirit free.

One day, there will be light in the darkness,

And all this pain will turn to peace.

I’ll step into that warm horizon—

And find the place where burdens cease.

_________________

Introduction

Nasir Aijaz, based in Karachi, the capital of Sindh province of Pakistan, is a senior award-winning and Gold Medalist journalist having served in the field of journalism for half a century in senior positions like editor and managing editor. He also worked as a TV Anchor for over a decade and conducted some 400 programs besides appearing as analyst in several current affairs programs on TV and Radio channels. He is the award-winning author of ten books on history, language, literature, travelogue, translations from English literature, and biography. One of his books, a translation of poetry of an Egyptian poet, has been published in Cairo.  About a dozen other books are unpublished.

Besides, he has written over 500 articles in English, Urdu and Sindhi, the native language of Sindh. He is editor of Sindh Courier, an online magazine and represents The AsiaN, an online news service of South Korea with regular contribution for eleven years. Dozens of his articles have been published in South Korea while many of his articles have also been translated in Arabic and Korean languages. Some of his English articles were published in Singapore and India and Nigeria. He writes poetry in his native language Sindhi as well as in English. Some of his poems have been translated in Hindi, Bengali, Tamil, and Malayalam, Albanian, Italian, Greek, Arabic and some other languages published in Egypt, Abu Dhabi, Iraq, Bangladesh, India, Kosovo, USA, Tajikistan, Greece, Italy, Germany, and some other countries. He has visited some ten Asian countries and attended international seminars. He was adjudged one of the Top 20 journalists of Asia by a Philippines-based magazine. He has received several appreciation certificates from international organizations for his literary services.            

Artwork from Mario Loprete

Concrete ice cream pop with dripping red, white, and green Italian flag colors.
Italians Do It Better

Pencil drawing/painting of a young guy with reading glasses, a small dog, and a thick green jacket.
Francesco and Jack
Closeup of bare feet on a tightrope
All of the works featured here in a line.

Image of Black rapper Snoop Dogg with his head resting on his folded hands. He's in blue jeans and a black jacket.

Grid of painted images of various rap stars of all races.
Profile from the left of a Black rapper with a beanie and necklace and athletic top.

Left profile of another Black rap star.

I live in a world that I shape as I please. I do this through virtual, pictorial and sculptural movements, transferring my experiences and photographing reality through the filters of my mind. I have refined this process through years of research and experimentation.


Painting for me is my first love. An important, pure love. Creating a painting, starting from the frantic search for a concept with which I want to convey my message, this is the foundation of painting for me.


Sculpture is my lover, my artistic betrayal to painting. That voluptuous and sensual lover who inspires diverse emotions that strike forbidden chords.


I have been painting Hip Hop since the nineties. Italian and international rappers have been and are the subjects of my works. In 2021 SNOOP DOGG, a rapper who needs no introduction, published on his website with 60 million followers a portrait of him that I painted. The resulting media wave made me known to the general American public and my works were acquired by important public and private collections.


This new series of concrete sculptures has recently been giving me greater personal and professional satisfaction. How was it born? It was the result of an important investigation into my work. I was looking for that special something that I felt was missing. Looking back at my work over the last ten years, I understood that there was a certain semantic and semiotic logic “spoken” by my images, but the right support to enhance their message was not there.


Reinforced concrete, was created two thousand years ago by the Romans. It tells a thousand-year history, full of amphitheatres, bridges and roads that have conquered the ancient and modern world. Now, concrete is synonymous with modernity. Everywhere you go you find a concrete wall: modern man is in there.


From Sydney to Vancouver, from Oslo to Pretoria, this reinforced concrete is present, and it is this presence that supports writers and allows them to express themselves.


The artistic question was obvious to me: if man brought art to the streets to make it accessible to everyone, why not bring the urban into galleries and museums?


I am currently working a lot on my concrete sculptures, a series of works that have made me known to collectors in Northern Europe and the USA. For my concrete sculptures I usually use my personal clothes. During some artistic processes using plaster, resin and cement, I transform them into works of art to hang.

My memory, my DNA, my memories remain “concretized” within them, transforming the person who observes the works into a sort of postmodern archaeologist, studying them as if they were urban artefacts from a remote past. Under a layer of cement are my clothes that I have lived in. I like to think that those who look at my sculptures ask themselves questions, which they can answer by drawing on their educational, cultural and artistic experience.


There is also a series of sculptures dedicated to my clothes worn during COVID , clothes that survived the pandemic ,similar to the finds discovered in Pompeii, after the catastrophic eruption 2,000 years ago.


Sculptures capable of recounting the anguish, fear and inability of man to face an uncertain future and the restlessness of the tragedy of broken lives and destroyed economies.

In the last five years, over 600 international magazines, mostly official magazines of the most important American and Canadian universities, above all Harvard University, have welcomed my work, dedicating articles and covers to it.


Links to My Socials
www.facebook.com/mario.loprete.5
www.instagram.com/marioloprete/

www.linkedin.com/in/mario-loprete-7aa22529

Poetry from Saiprakash Kuntamukkala

Middle aged South Asian man with glasses, a mustache, and a dark suit and blue tie.

ON A RAINY DAY 

I sit near the window with a coffee cup

Looking at the rain

Each pearl 

Inviting me to hold

I offer my resistance 

The  rain beginning to sing 

A rhythmic tune

Tempting my soul

Memories of my childhood and youth 

Interlaced 

I can no longer resist 

As soon as I open the front door 

The first scent of petrichor

The first splash of showers

Leaving many pearls on my cheeks

Those pitter patter raindrops 

Whispering many secrets 

I too whisper back my moments of pain ,joy and bliss 

Those rainy days 

Where I used to sit alone 

My warm tears mixed with drops of rain

A perfect camouflage 

Those of my tears of joy too well disguised

The long winding paths 

Wave after wave of rain and memories entwined

A rainy day is a day of memories 

Not a few but many

Poetry from Christopher Bernard

On Becoming a Fossil

by Christopher Bernard

There is always the question of when it 
       began,
or when you first noticed it.

One day, a spot of gray on a nail 
of the left small toe, 
has become, a week later, a pebble.

So that is the way you are headed now,
who was never (let’s face it)
much with it.

One reaches no age with impunity;
your time was hopelessly yesterday
even at the time you were a tyke: your 
      music
was never Chuck Berry but Ludwig van,
your reading not Vonnegut or Hermann Hesse,
but Henry James and Thomas Mann.
Your generation to you was a mess:
half decadent, half barbarian.

There is a certain progression, as, below,
it rises, salt-like, from your toe:
a certain stoniness in your hearing
or taste of pristine metal after bathing,
a calcification of a memory
that rattles between two syllables of a 
      greeting.
A quiet thrumming at the back of the
      throat
that reminds you of Medusa’s immediate 
      glare,
a locked joint as you embrace a pillow,
a crying spasm in your left calf,
a line of pain hooked between pelvis
      and ankle.

You stare at the spiral of darkness of 
      an ammonite,
thinking through eons of stratigraphy 
pressed to ink between layers of shale,
civilizations shrunk to a cloud
of dry mud, monuments, poems, songs:
the layers of stone in a cliff wall
soaring toward the sun where you climbed 
      as a boy,
dreaming of the flight of the hawk, how 
      your wings
shall weave in the air
in random happiness
from cloud to cloud
as drunk as Icarus as he climbed toward 
      Apollo,
winging across the earth that made you 
      and now
embraces you as you tumble back,
the sun melting your wings— 
your hopes, your dreams
blowing away like the feathers of a lark— 
to air, to water,
to stone.

_____

Christopher Bernard’s book The Socialist’s Garden of Verses won a PEN Oakland Josephine Miles Award and was named one of the “Top 100 Indie Books of 2021” by Kirkus Reviews.