The calmness quotient
Nabanita Deshmukh
Illustrations: Soumya Menon
‘In schools with a history of chaos, the teacher who can keep the classroom calm becomes virtually indispensable.’ – Jonathan Kozol
Arati Biswas was an energetic employee of a Non-Governmental Organization (NGO) in the educational sector. She was bright-eyed and full of hope despite reading all the dismal news about education scams and chaotic classrooms. There was, in Arati, a steely determination to bring about change, however small it might be. So one day, after going through a list of requirements for research and field surveys, she gingerly approached her director with a new idea.
“I need to travel to schools across our country and document how teachers teach and experience things on a day-to-day basis,” she eagerly said. The director, an experienced educationist did not look impressed and bluntly asked, “I can get a dozen candidates to do the stuff you just suggested. What original research can you undertake to make this NGO benefit from your work?”
The director’s words made Arati pensive. She thought for a while and then replied, “Ma’am, I become agitated when I have a presentation to make. In fact, every time there was an exam, I almost collapsed with nervousness. Perhaps I could study how teachers in urban and rural schools cope with fear and what they do to calm themselves down? I could then provide effective tools to help them cope with challenges and thereby enhance teacher satisfaction and wellbeing.”
A faint smile played upon the director’s lips and she chuckled, “Now that’s a much better proposition, Arati. Calmness and wellbeing are the new mantras of productive workers in their quest for work-life balance. Go ahead then! Do your research on what teachers do to find peace in stressful situations, but don’t forget to calm yourself down before starting!”
And thus began for Arati a journey of learning and self-exploration that took her across different regions of India.
Rural Odisha
The first village school Arati visited was in Odisha’s Bolangir district. A thatched hut was the only classroom available and it was packed with students. There was no demarcation of levels, everyone studied together. There was only one teacher to manage the classes and her name was Gangamani Dei.
The noise made by the students in the classroom was deafening and it reached such a crescendo that the poor teacher got a sore throat just by shouting “keep quiet!” Yet…there was no impact. The students continued to shout and some of them even ran out of
the hut to play. Arati was about to intervene when something surprising happened! Gangamani, who must have been in her late forties, took a few deep breaths. She then opened her bag, took out her mobile phone and a Bluetooth speaker, clicked on a link and lo! An interesting story in Odia with soothing music in the background wafted through the speaker! The children instantly became silent and listened to the tale in rapt attention.
Arati was dumbfounded. Wow! What an impact an audio story had on a motley group of children! That evening she made copious notes in her diary about her classroom observations and wrote, ‘When I asked Gangamani what made her think of audio stories she just smiled and said, “Audio resources, whether they be, stories, songs, or music, have a calming effect on children and also on teachers. I try and listen to soothing music before coming to school and I feel so peaceful. All it takes to quieten down is a mobile phone and a Bluetooth speaker that are easily available in the market.”
Kolkata diaries
In Kolkata, a few weeks later, Arati visited a government-aided school in Manicktola. There, unlike Gangamani’s hut, were 10 classrooms made of brick and cement, but the number of students was low. Each classroom had 15 students and some had only 8.
The teachers, however, looked stressed. They used batons to discipline the students and many children were sent out to stand in the sun as punishment. Arati entered the first classroom and met the math teacher there. His name was Prodeep Sen and he was just 25 years old.
“I’m not from here,” sulked Prodeep. “My family lives in Midnapur.” The teacher then went on to haltingly explain how difficult it was for him to adjust to city life and how he missed home. He was particularly annoyed with his students who paid scant attention to what he was saying or teaching in class. Arati, who was a Bengali herself realized that Prodeep could not express himself well in English or in Bangla, his mother tongue. He often stuttered and repeated himself, hesitated and paused for a long time in between sentences and was unable to convey messages clearly.
Fortunately, the headmaster of the school was a compassionate man and he spent a lot of time with Prodeep to help him develop good communication skills. A few months later, Arati was in for a surprise! She got to know that Prodeep now enjoyed taking classes. His students were paying attention to what he was teaching and most importantly, the 25-year-old was finally at peace.
“Communication is the salt of life,” Arati heard the headmaster say several times. “Most teachers blame students for being non-responsive, but actually it is they who are bad communicators. Good communication makes a person happier and more in control of his emotions.”
The Assamese experience
Arati soon travelled north and visited a private school in Tinsukia, an important town in Upper Assam. She saw teachers there, a dozen of them always in a state of frenzy and anger. Their emotions arose not while they interacted with students, but when they could not get along with one another and this happened very often. Constant bickering and disagreements created a disagreeable atmosphere in the staffroom, which was beginning to affect their classroom teaching.
Arati realized that a good rapport between teachers fosters stronger bonds and develops harmony and empathy. Teachers tend to be happier and more at peace when they get the support and encouragement of their peers.
Coimbatore jottings
In Coimbatore, a sprawling city on the foothills of the Western Ghats, 70 teachers attended a workshop on ‘Reflective Teaching Practices’. Arati found herself in the crowd after taking permission from the headmistress to attend the workshop. The topic was completely new for Arati, but even more surprising were the reactions of teachers about their own competencies. Most of them found nothing wrong in the way they taught and it was always the fault of the students if they did not fare well in the exams. No wonder most of them looked distraught and agitated.
“My students are so dumb and distracted,” complained a participant.
“I put so much effort into my teaching but these awful students are incapable of understanding what I teach,” ranted her friend.
The complaints against the students piled up and would have continued to grow had the resource person, an experienced teacher herself, not demonstrated strategies of introspection and self-awareness and then everything changed! Teachers began to look deeply into how they taught or behaved and many of them decided to try new methods to make students more responsive and participate in class discussions and activities.
Arati observed how the behaviour of certain teachers changed during the workshop and this brought about changes in her own attitude too.
“Reflection and introspection are such important traits to develop not only in teachers but in other human beings as well,” wrote Arati in her diary that night. “Reflection, if practiced regularly, encourages personal growth and makes one intensely aware of one’s thoughts and feelings thereby making a person more in control of his or her own self.”
The Kerala chapter
Monsoon had just set over the Malabar Coast when Arati entered God’s Own Country – Kerala. The landscape was lush and Arati enjoyed her bus ride from Kochi to Munnar, a scenic district in the south western part of the state. The school she visited was situated in the midst of a tea garden and the students were primarily the children of plantation workers. The surrounding was breathtaking with miles and miles of green tea shrubs dotting the hills, but the teachers in the school looked glum, especially a middle-aged man called Kumar.
Kumar’s demeanour was melancholic and his lack of humour affected his rapport with the students. Arati spent some time observing Kumar’s classes and then mustered the courage to ask him why he looked so glum.
“My home situation is not good,” confessed Kumar. “You see, my parents and wife don’t get along and this problem makes me anxious, so much so that I cannot even joke or laugh in class. Besides, the children are from poor backgrounds and they dislike serious classes, but I am unable to bring humour into my teaching.”
Arati, who herself had experienced panic attacks in the past, felt the need to share some of her thoughts with Kumar.
“I know how sad you feel, sir,” she told the teacher, “but it’s unfair to the students if you cannot teach them well by being despondent. Try to compartmentalize your distress and put it in a box so that it does not affect other aspects of your life and work. It’s not an easy task but with will power and practice, you can succeed.”
Kumar surprisingly appreciated Arati’s advice and regularly practised ‘compartmentalizing’ his emotions and within a few weeks, he felt calmer and his teaching became fun and interactive.
“I kept visualizing a large iron box, into which I put all my worries. Only when I felt like revisiting them, did I open the box, if not it was always tightly shut,” he told his colleagues when he recently received the ‘Best Teacher’s Award’ from his headmaster. Arati was present during the ceremony and she was pleased to see Kumar’s transformation. He looked happier and his dark moods had vanished. Arati would have loved to observe Kumar’s classes but it was now time for her to get back and she was keen to share her findings with her colleagues back home.
Back to base
“So, what are the important lessons in calmness you learned while observing teachers?” asked the director, happy to see Arati back after a long absence.
The young woman smiled.
“There is no one-fix magical formula for gaining calmness while teaching. In fact, there are several reasons why teachers feel restless and distraught,” said Arati, “and some of those reasons are:
- A lack of knowledge about classroom management.
- A paucity of creative resources for teaching.
- An issue with colleagues.
- Faulty communication skills.
- A lack of introspection and reflection.
- Inability to compartmentalize personal problems.”
Arati presented her findings without feeling anxious. In fact, her presentation was lucid and precise. There was no hesitation, pauses, or stuttering in her speech.
“Bravo!” said the director and then inquisitively asked, “Your presentation was useful Arati, but tell us how you became such a calm communicator?”
The young woman let out a sigh. “I guess that happened because of the teachers I met. Their experiences and the advice of mentors such as headmasters and resource persons also provided me with valuable tools to cope with discordant situations and become calmer.”
“And what about the change you had envisaged? Do you think your work could bring about a shift somewhere?” asked a colleague.
Arati shook her head, “I doubt whether my work will create any immediate change in schools,” she remarked, “but the greatest change has actually happened in me. My attitude and reactions towards situations and people are now more mature and less judgemental.”
“But what has individual change got to do with a larger group of teachers?” persisted the colleague.
Arati smiled. “I now believe that for any external change to last, individuals need to reflect on their shortcomings and start changing their attitude vis-a-vis people and their environment,” she said, “It is only then that a group or community can progress holistically. Fortunately, I saw that happen to a few teachers. With regular practice and perseverance, they remained unruffled in chaotic classrooms and made calmness an essential part of their teaching. And who knows? Students may emulate their teachers and learn to be calm in the midst of confusion and change!”
Nabanita Deshmukh is a teacher, a teacher educator and a writer of children’s stories and poems. She can be reached at deshmukh.nitu@gmail.com
