Hats-off to my mentor, Dr. Hanna.

I write this post to shed light upon my deep appreciation towards Dr. Hanna; my mentor, PhD co-supervisor, and the one who keeps me afloat in life. About two years into my undergraduate degree, I was a quiet and shy software engineering student who would sit-in on his infamous lectures, taking notes, and soaking in his inspiring aura. Phones, laptops, or any other distracting nonsense were prohibited from hijacking our feebly controlled senses as young students. Dr. Hanna knows that giving a lecture is not mere regurgitation, but a performance — a chance for captivating educational entertainment. Students FEEL this and fill his classrooms to spillover, sitting on the floor and auditorium steps, and drag in extra seats from other classrooms just to watch him do what he does best. That is, to teach computer science.

During a morning of lonesome studying at the University, I received a phone call from one “AIMAN HANNA”. My heart rate skyrocketed and I became flush; I could not understand why I was receiving the call, nor how he obtained my number. It was akin to witnessing the first smile on your high school crush. I was singing inside. After years of quiet effort, something – the nature of which was uncertain – was about to happen. He asked me, “Would you like to teach?” It still startles me that he KNEW I was waiting to be noticed, and to be given an opportunity to use my energies in front of an audience of students. I agreed and began teaching tutorial sessions soon after (45 – 90 minute sessions on programming, data structures, and operating systems). I kept this up, sometimes teaching 2-3 sessions per week on-top of 5 undergraduate courses. My system for navigating this was tight. Every day was scheduled down to the quarter hour. Life was filled to the brim with work (not to say it was completely fulfilling, but how often does such an opportunity land at your feet?). For those years I barely – if ever – touched alcohol because I knew how easily my entire structure could be thrown to shit.

There were occasions where people would tell me I work too hard, I don’t enjoy life, and so on and so forth. They were partially right; I would rarely see friends, loud and rough environments like bars turned me off, I wasn’t physically active, lacked socialization (from youth), missed most birthdays and wasn’t present for my own family. I would cut calls short with my mother, not return calls to my grandparents, and was generally tense in my body. My family life was complete and utter shit, I had no ability to do anything myself, and I held a defeatist attitude towards all aspects of life. There was no better place for me to spend my energies except in my field. What these people don’t understand, the ones who believe it is their duty to inform about how disagreeable your way-of-life seems to them, is that some of us will crumble without a same or superior replacement. If I was not given these opportunities, and if I did not undertake them FULLY, I had nothing else; where would these people be once I’d crumble? At my side to guide me? I promise you they would not. Their words were mere utterances, and I progressively paid them no mind. Some of these very same people, now, can barely get control of their own roving mind, completely seeped in fleeting desires and attending parties that exhaust them as they play the martyr for an air of sociality.

If you’re aware enough to observe what is succeeding and failing around you AND BECAUSE OF YOU/AT YOUR OWN HANDS, it is simple to become your own guide. Granted, it is difficult to smell your own shit, but stick your head in the bowl; you can’t miss it. Be extremely wary of others who often want you to believe in their half-assed system of existence predicated on the cheap idea of “enjoying life”, yet themselves live life full of useless anxieties, continually stuffing their face with food and drink, escaping to other lands in an attempt to find something (they never will), and all-the-while waving their finger-of-advice in your face.

I developed a practice over the years to guide myself out of my own shit heap because, I began to realize, my flawed character was getting me no-where fast. Since about 2018, when I first began cognitive behavioural therapy (for roughly 6 months), I always maintained a spiritual practice. What this means is that I continuously read books which spoke about the matters that troubled me; meaning, purpose, anxiety, behaviour, mentality/mindset, desires, pleasures, etc. I frame this as spiritual practice because it connects you to your problem with the highest aim of elevating yourself above yourself, above your current state. Observing others’ reactions to your behaviour, be it family, friends, partners, co-workers, you will notice them continuously pointing out your character flaws. Dive into it, read about it, and fix them over time if you believe they are worth the adjustment. Pragmatically speaking, this includes waking up, and first thing in the morning, writing out your prior days’ failure(s) and the methods in which to improve them at the next experienced instance. If you think you have none of these, call up Mother Theresa and join her troupe (hint: she’s dead). You will know, instinctively, what those methods of character-redemption are if you sit and contemplate it, and if you don’t, read about those problems and see how others unfurled them. From these, positive change MUST come, ere long. We are only guaranteed the quality of our future changes from action in the present that we believe is aligned with our highest self. It does takes time.

As I began this practice over the years, I was and continue to reap the benefits. My life is drastically more full of love, meaningful work, and all further activities which I deem necessary to my internal state of joy. Much still needs adjusting, however the battle is being won, year-by-year. Where does Dr. Hanna come into all this? Well, for one he is excellent at listening and sifting through my bullshit issues and setting me straight without a seam of anger. All along, he was the only person who encouraged me to continue working harder, to teach, to undertake a Master’s degree, to then fast-track me to my PhD. He was the only person who provided me the opportunity to work out my kinks through work and proper interaction with the world at a time when I had no confidence to do anything else. Every other person I knew asked me to relax more, to do less, but they never provided an alternative to a life full of interactions with students and compelling subject-matter. Why does he do this for me? It is just his nature. It is what Dr. Hanna does.

This year Dr. Hanna was nominated by another teacher at Concordia University for the CS-CAN Award, which is handed to the Canadian computer scientists who show “exemplary community and professional involvement, contributions to computer science education, and the significant accomplishments of computer scientists and computer science students and recent graduates. (LINK)” I was asked to write an essay outlining his efforts and accomplishments. I post it here in full. Any student who benefits from my teachings has Dr. Hanna to thank, and the nomination below explains why.

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To the CS-CAN award committee,

To question whether or not Dr. Hanna should be gifted the CS-CAN lifetime achievement award is futility in the expenditure of energy. Aiman Hanna has already devoted a lifetime in achievement of a thing more profound; he is a master of the human in a program governed by machines. In an academic system, much favor and praise leans towards academic achievement itself – most of which is distanced from human care and compassion because of its rigors and exactitude. The switch is flipped for Dr. Hanna, who declared in his profoundest statement, “How can we expect students to learn when experiencing tragedy in their life?” Such a statement would seem a necessary utterance from the mouths of any human, and certainly any academic. Yet, semesters roll by and students’ sense of mental clarity, a learned foundation to rest upon during the trials of life, remains null, void, and unlearned; though we provide for them no shortage of study on machine-understanding.

As a student previously enrolled in Dr. Hanna’s computer science courses, he singled me out, phoned me, and offered me a teaching job; I had never indicated to him such a desire and frankly we rarely communicated prior to the call. I took to teaching like salmon to a stream and eventually Dr. Hanna offered a Master’s opportunity, and further fast-tracked me to PhD. Tragically, in my first year of PhD, my mother took her own life. Dr. Hanna stepped in and handled everything on the academic side which I had neither the time nor energy to withstand. In the second year of my PhD, I sat with him for a discussion where I voiced my desire to quit. Instead of berating me, showing anger and frustration at my lack of respect for his efforts in putting me in this ever-so-fortunate position, with few words, he carefully advised me to stay. Months later, my first PhD paper has been accepted with no major nor minor reviews, an accomplishment I led myself to believe was an impossibility. If I were to enumerate all the instances where he has guided his students to greatness, it would exhaust a lifespan.

The receipt of this award holds no bearing over the direction of his actions. Dr. Hanna will live unto his death in service of raising students to their utmost. I write this letter not because he needs it, but because I simply do not have a better means of repaying the infinite debts owed to the soul behind the man.