Schools lead to malls !!

Schools lead to malls !!
As I walked into the premises bright coloured plastic cars caught my sight. And my nephew ran to one of them and was instantly occupied in riding one of them. I walked in and was greeted pleasantly by a lady, who said was the owner of the center. She greeted the child calling him by his name.
I settled in a chair that was offered opposite her. She said she was a dentist by profession and attended her clinic in the evening and ran this child center in the morning. ( Two jobs!! Two professions.. no wonder we are short of jobs) I asked her whether I could see the curriculum of the school. Sorry,”Madam we do not share it with any body.” was the courteous reply. I was surprised.I told her I was a teacher by profession and was just interested in it and did not mean to steal ideas. No, a firm NO , she said again. Why this secrecy? I wondered. Are they exposing the children to some thing that they only know? And I wondered at the faith my extended family had in this center. Does law have no control on these schools?
The lady again spoke to my nephew in English. Obviously the child did not respond . Then I said .”Why don’t you speak to the child in its’ language?The reply was”We have to speak in English.” When asked whether they were nor supposed to be sensitive to the child’s upbringing ,She just watched me curiously . That language was one of major component of a child’s back ground was perhaps revealing to her.
I then asked her about the study pattern .She said that they would go very slow, children had plenty of time for play and learn . Then she gave an example. Saying that they exposed the child to a colour concept in a month. I asked if the child was free to learn the colour it chose. Again there was a smile on her face and she replied,” No, The child has to learn the particular colour mentioned in the curriculum.” I just shook my head pleasantly and asked whether she would accept a shopkeepers choice of a green dress when she wanted to buy a yellow one. No,no I won’t. I want to have my choice,I am an adult!” Then I questioned her whether she considered the child as an individual and that it could exercise its choice too .She smiled . Again it was obvious that she had no clear understanding of the basic pedagogy related to pre schooling.
I thanked her for being so patient with my uncomfortable questions.
But to me, I saw the seeds of conformity being sown in the young minds.And the colourful toys and displays quietly do the job of preparing the child to the world of malls and hyper markets which actually is the hidden agenda of schooling as I see it today.
As I left the center I saw a big display which had the words Self esteem written in bold!! You can imagine whose self esteem it caters to!!

The onion story…Feb 2010

I just lay huddled with my mum who tried to keep me closer to her..we were all tossed up and down.. side ways.. and believe me I did not want be separated from my dear mum.My mum had told me stories of what would happen to us sooner or later and I kept praying that shall not happen to me. But lo…I was darwn into a big pan.. but mum was still next to me… that was only for a few seconds.. then a big shovel like thing with five prongs picked my mother and threw her out…and I along with my other brethren were heaped into a dark place.. nothing was seen… I felt as if we were kept inside a big chamber . Some more things were put on us and we jolted as we were lifted and soon we pushed and nudged each other as we were being taken away. I do not clearly remember how long we were carried . We were dropped ‘thud’ on a hard surface. My body was badly bruised!Sooner the heavy thing above was removed and we were able to breathe freely….then again the 5 pronged shovel picked my brethren …I pushed myself into a corner not wanting to be picked…oh…I won… the shovel did not touch the corners and there I lay still and breathless. I cried my heart out missing my mum and all my friends. I lay there for nearly two light and 2 dark times. On the third light I felt as being carried . Again few things fell on me and this time there was nice fragrance…I recognised them as my apple bhaiyas…they wondered as to what I was doing there all alone. We had fun telling each other our stories. Suddenly we felt pushed against each other when we were made to squeeze in a small place.. the hard iron bar pressed my body. But it was fun being carried in a fast move to the tinkling sound of a bell…we sang to the rhythm of the move and the bell…but it ended all soon. But this time we were placed so gently on a surface as if we were flowers. Again the big shovel picked my apple bhayias and the next moment I was out into bright light. The gentle shovel turned me around and looked at me with a big smile on the face…what would happen to me now!!”I wouldn’t be hurt by this gentle face. Would I be?”I was placed gently in a cold metal surface and soon I was alone in it with a white cover above me. Why was I here? Why was I not used when I was seen? The stories that my mother told me all looked like bunch of lies. I was neither peeled and cut, nor thrown into hot fire….I lay still waiting what would happen next…soon I was lost in my own thoughts….

Baba with a bhang! Chia, chillum and chappati! Jan 2010

MY fellow partner Rikie fixed an appointment one day to meet one Mr. Baba who had an English wife. I was curious about who and what that man was doing for a living and how his wife was coping in a small and dusty place like jeetpur!
I was least prepared to see the unexpected. The place they lived was a temple complex. With a high wall adjoining the busy road on one side and a narrow ditch( an apology for a river)on the other .The temple looked very ordinary in my terms .the man himself was a baba .. a spiritual practioner (??)with long locked hair…I had to suppress my surprise and may be I was disappointed too…the baba sat on a mat and welcomed us with a big laugh .. his face showed easiness of life and his eyes were full of joy!I being an Indian I have seen hundreds of such babas'.. on my journeys all over . but had never got to see and talk to one …I knew that these babas' practiced Hinduism in a way that was totally different to what I am used to…I told myself that I would just be quiet and watch and keep all my curiosity to myself.I just put up a pose as being an accompanying partner with my friend …
The baba did some loud thinking about what he was up to and it set me thinking…”All over the world.. Hinduism is dying.. Muslims are becoming large in number… people are forgetting Sanatana Dharma.. I must do some thing to revive it all!!England is a dangerous place.. here there is peace…I want to give shelter to people who visit Pashupathinath…and keep the tradition of my Guru going…Maybe I shall start a charity fund back in England…make this place nicer and famous.I can offer chia, chillum and chappati to people… ganja is the way to happiness….next only to god!!”
It is interesting to see people who call themselves Hindus practice rituals that could be poles apart. The people who were a part of the huge sacrifice (I would call it mass slaughter)of animals at Gadimayi also called themselves Hindus. And I who don’t smoke ganja and have not sacrificed an animal is also been conditioned to be a Hindu. Some of these practices could result in a conflict .But I understand the problem lies not in the practice s but in bringing all these religious practices under one big fold called hinduism. I think a distinction has to be made about the vedic religion and the other religious practices out side this fold . In the recent past the dominant Vedic tradition has been singled out as the form of hinduism . But vedic practice itself has undergone many changes and it is difficult o see a single version of it. Right along the length and breadth of the country it is practiced in ways very different though the verses sung may be the same. Ie., it hasled to many interpretations of the text itself. It would have been more appropriate for recognition of the various forms as there are many branches in Christianity for eg.,.

while some where in Jomsom....

“scene 1
a meeting where people seated in a star room smelling of the latest room freshner, with mineral water bottles, food of their choice in best of cutlery and all dressed in their finery and matching accessories from various parts of the world…deliberating on sustainability …and whose and what sustainability are they talking about…each one talks his own.. the linguist their words and pronunciation, the economist their wealth, the spiritualists their thoughts and mantras,the physicians their medicines, the educationists their pedagogy, the politician his power, the capitalists their market etc etc…..

a deep reflection could perhaps reveal the dichotomy between the chosen theme and the setting
scene 2
i see change every second.. the clouds appear in the ever blue sky and even before I notice they disappear…i am seated on earth some where in the Himalayas . Far down I see the man and the beast working in the field as the latter sings to keep his spirits alive.I also see finely etched footpaths made from down hill …or is it uphill ? the water channels simple but effective since many decades?
I walk down to see things much closer .. all is so uncluttered..just in place and in matching hues..the stone clad houses , and stone covered drains, with smell that is more earthly and nothing to be ashamed of, its people in attires of style as if in a party , but no, it is their everyday dress that blends with the surroundings.
what catches me is the silence…the silence not heard before .. not that their is no noise .. but even that has merged with the surroundings that you have to be quiet and pay attention to listen !!It is as though they do not want to disturb the sleeping giants , the mountains , it is sacrilege to be in off beat / tune/or pitch!!

i feel that these are the real heroes who have mastered the art of living in conditions that city dwellers like me can hardly ever imagine!!the children of this place learn to live naturally …

people from all over come to see what? the mountains .. do they see the humble humans amidst those giants ? or it is too scary for them as it makes them feel too burdened with the shocking thought that all their creativity has led them to a life style so shame fully unsustainable!!”

Colours!!

Colours.. since when was it that teaching colours to children became a practice.. well, in a normal conversation with a child first its name is asked and then what colour is its frock or shirt.. and if the child dosen't answer.. then .. lo! it is a shame for the kid and more so to its parent.. and if it says it in its mother tongue immediately any adult around will supply the name in english...( and in many cases learning of English stops at that !
.
and have we wondered why we ask the children which is its favourite colour? when i was asked this question.. much when i was an adult,i was perplexed.... can I have my favorite colour? but why/ because.. i was never consulted when my parents brought me dress , or a tooth brush.. colour was to me very natural.. the color of rice, the color of the chappati, the colour of the coffee powder... the colour of the butterflies in my garden... and there were so many greens that i even to day do not know to name them... i never felt the necessity even today to learn them...but i knew when it was time enough to pick some thing looking at the colour.. what if i did not know to name it!colour in that sense was very functional... so was smell... and texture...

now let me come to the schools i go to... the children are amidst nature... green of different kinds around them flowers of various kinds.... and how important is it to fill their class with colours? do they have any value?( there are no traffic lights here, yet!) did not these colours remove the children from the environment and draw them to shops where everything is colourfully displayed....( and because it is in the science book ..we give environmental lessons to kids to see colours in nature....) but which colour is valued more? sorry not the blue in the sky.. the wonderful colour of the sunrise and sunset.... the blue of the toffee, the orange of the fanta.. pink of the barbie doll....but the kids here learn to look everything wholistically....they know the plant s around them, they know to reap, by looking at the colour...they not only know an orange but also how to grow one!!(does any city bred child know about oranges other than its colour??)i am sorry if these kids are educated they will stop growing oranges and buy colourfully packed orange tang!!

now come to this question"which is your favourite"( i think this was created to create a consumer who could demand his choice and get it too)!! this is a question which has huge cultural implications.... the child exposed to this questoning learns that it can have a choice all the time... no, we were never asked this .. why am i not comfortable? because I belong to a society where everybody ate and drank what was made in the kitchen and we wore the dress that parents bought us..what happens if such questions are asked to children who come from families where they cannot afford to give choice?? won't the child think low of its family, grow up with inferiority complex? it was so painful to me to listen that children ( in the schools i work)do not go to school because they have no kaaja to take and even if taken it is very inferior... because some one brings a packet of biscuits( mind u it is the colour of the wrapper that makes it so wanted!) while he has only batmas( a local protein rich dal) to take!
so the capitalist has made a child as small as 5-6 years old disrespect the food the parents can afford !!
is any body listening??
Is asking such questions child centered clearning??

History repeats

I peep through the gate,, children are helter-skelter within the compound..I looked into my watch.. Oh !Does the school start at 11 am?? No, the watch showed 10 minutes past 11. Feeling shocked I asked the vendor of local snacks out side the gate if the school was on.. He said, ‘yes’….How do I get in?’ I asked. He called out some name and soon a staff of the school appeared on the other side and opened the lock for me. Thanking her I walked in. What I saw was nothing new to me ..teachers all sitting in the sun in small groups. But there seemed to be more adults around walking from place to place…A teacher whom I had met earlier got up and walked to meet me and I asked her to direct me to the ECD class. She eagerly took me into the class. But why was she outside?? She was the ECD teacher! The children were left alone in the class!!All were given writing tasks . There were some 40 odd children seated neatly on benches. Surprisingly the class was not very noisy. I asked her to show me class 1 and 2. We walked in the corridor to enter class 1. What a mess! The teacher who I learnt was a student teacher was at his wits to keep the children listen to him! The children seemed to have a gala time knowing well that he was new to the job. He suddenly went to a group of kids and hit them on their heads with the textbook that was in his hand..and cried” I am trying to teach them! They are not keeping quiet!”.I was bemused not knowing to feel sorry or have a hearty laugh. What I saw was history repeating as I had seen some teachers with 20-30 yeas experience behaving with the children as the novice did !!

On the other side

On the other side…
As a teacher I had the privilege of getting to meet many resource persons who spoke to us about their understanding of the world. Some spoke about their passion, be it art,music or human personality, Identity etc. Some of them have been very genuine and the preparation they did to talk to me and a group of fellow teachers could be seen. But some delivered their lectures as a matter of fact and they could be easily categorized as people who did a job. The former spoke through their heart and the latter through their mind. How many of these peoples inputs do I remember? And how much of their ideas have I internalized? And how much of it has gone into practice?
It is clear to me that people who spoke through their heart and with passion have had a lasting impact on me. I may not recall erything of what they said, but I salute them for opening me to a new thought and dimension of the world around me. Is it important that I should know them by name now? I do not think so. Well, I can recall a few names who had visited us recently or those whom I met more than a couple of times. I wonder whether my fellow colleagues think about them at all. Luckily for me what ever input those people gave me I shared it with my class of students and consciously spoke about the new thoughts and ideas wherever possible. I did recall a few even in Nepal while talking to fellow volunteers.
My organization which spent so much money on exposing its staff to new thoughts has continued to do so. It has not asked us for any inputs as to how we beneficiaries have been profited by it. The people who shared their thoughts are perhaps not worried about what impact they had on us. Sharing and learning was on without any stress to meet deadlines or targets. It was all so beautiful.
Now I stand before a group of teachers as a resource person. How do I present to them? What do they feel about me? How much of how and what I do is important than their own openness to learn? Do I deliver through my heart or mind? Should I be bothered about the impact I have? In my experience so far I have seen faces which have shown surprise, excitement, lethargy, openness , carelessness, passiveness, eagerness etc .Some I have met more than once and a few, many times. It is understandable that as I stand on the other side, I sense the emotions people experience as resource persons. It is all human . My speakers who influenced me may not remember me amongst the multitude of faces they see. But that they have been able to leave behind lasting impression is the faith I carry now. Faith and utmost trust in human endeavor can result in creating a humane world. I am a part of that. Either ways or positions I can make it happen. So will all, sooner or later.