Farewell My Professor, My Mentor, My Friend
By: Mary Aravanis
“I am not from this planet.”
These words ring so loud these days. As if it were only yesterday that a bunch of us students were lounging around PVA (the Performance and Visual Arts Department) and Mahmoud el Lozy casually passes by, makes fun of us as ‘the future generations of Egypt’, and then continues to explain how he’s an alien from another planet with a cheeky smirk on his face.
Everyone watches profoundly inspiring characters such as Robin Williams’ John Keating in the 1989 film Dead Poets Society with awe and admiration, yearning for such a mentor in their own lives. The students of the American University in Cairo (AUC) were lucky enough to have found such a mentor in Mahmoud el Lozy.
He was our John Keating. But better. He was real. He was Lozy.
Having been a professor of theatre at AUC for almost four decades, Lozy had dedicated a large portion of his life to teaching. And although oftentimes it may have seemed otherwise, he absolutely loved it. He was meant for it.
He was the kind of teacher people dream of having… passionate, wise, silly, crazy yet utterly supportive and utterly caring in his own indirect ways. Everyone at AUC who was remotely interested in theatre knew that Lozy was the theatre. As detailed in this Caravan profile of the late playwright, actor, director and professor, “El Lozy started teaching at AUC in fall 1985, before a theater program was set in place.”
Not only did theatre as a department at AUC begin with him, but he was also the one to introduce Egyptian theatre to the department. In 1986 Lozy introduced Arabic theater to the university with Nouaman Ashour’s Simma Awanta. Everyone who knows Lozy, knows his fondness for Egyptian playwrights such as Nouaman Ashour and Tawfik al Hakim – to be quite frank, I don’t believe most of us would have even known of these playwrights and their wonderful plays if it hadn’t been for him.
Although there are endless things that could be said about his brilliance – his ability to recite lines from almost any play he has read – whether that be Shakespeare or Tawfik al Hakim, his audaciously inappropriate jokes that he would shamelessly share with his students, his extensive library of music that he would enthusiastically pass on to everyone around him – it was ultimately his heart that set him apart.
One simply needs to visit his Facebook profile to see just how loved this man was, still is and always will be. As I wrote my own little tribute the day I found out of his passing, already devastated, my heart broke even more when I saw generations of students – some ten years older and others ten years younger – express their own grief, devastation and love.
Almost anyone who has crossed paths with this man has their own personal stories with him. That’s the thing. Lozy had this inexplicable ability to develop a personal connection with each and every person around him. Hundreds of students throughout the years, and he never failed to make you feel seen – he also never failed to keep in touch.
I remember bonding over our love for The Beatles during my time at university, and I realize now how even his yearly birthday message (which he would carry out even if we hadn’t spoken since the year before) was personalized – simple, direct and profoundly heart-warming, it would be a Beatles song.
But it wasn’t just that, it was also how genuinely he would share his love for theatre. Through his own burning passion, he lit a fire in countless students and loved ones throughout the years and he did what many of us theatre alumni are eager to do – spread our love of theatre, highlight its power, highlight its beauty.
Lozy was able to inspire us, to push us, and his belief in us is what oftentimes made us believe in ourselves. It is this very special ability to connect, to inspire and to lead that we hope to continue to carry out as his students. Lozy is indeed a legend, and his legacy will live on through each and every one of us.
On behalf of all the people who love you so much, we hope you’re happy back on your home planet. We’ll miss you and until we meet again… the show must go on.
Caravan article:
https://www.auccaravan.com/?p=7746
