Page 363 – Teacher Plus

Unsung and unhonoured for too long?

Amukta Mahapatra The life of a ‘normal’ teacher, though many paeans have been sung to her or him as to how critical s/he is to the school system, continues without too many changes for the past hundred years or more. Let us look at who this teacher is in the present times, where s/he works and what her/his working environment is like. Starting with numbers and quantities would give a context to the emerging image in the mind’s eye.chong qi cheng bao There are approximately five million (50 lakhs) teachers in India, and they are located as given in the table below. In the approximately 12 lakh schools (see Table 2 for the percentage of schools that are government, private and private aided), even if you leave out the privately managed schools that are aided by the government (which usually means that the teachers’ salaries are paid by the government), a large percentage of teachers are from the government sector. From the provisional figures for 2001-02, the number of primary teachers in the country is 1.928 million (19.2 lakhs) and those teaching in upper primary schools (Classes VI to VIII) is 1.468 million (14.6 lakhs), which is, roughly in the ratio of, 2: 1.5. For every two primary school teachers in India, there are 1.5 upper primary teachers. If you take a look at Graph 1, you will realise that despite all the progress that the country is making today, 5% (about 60,000) of the schools all over India are without a building, which also means that there are many teachers who go to a school which has no room at all, leave alone the other necessary infrastructure. Of the schools with buildings, not all are pucca and teachers have to work in all kinds of shelters (see Table 3). The percentage of schools without pucca buildings, adds up to about 30% in rural areas and 20% in urban areas. Of the schools that profess to have pucca buildings, whether government or private, except for a small percentage across the country, the rest in all likelihood do not have sufficient space for all the children, their books and bags, smooth floors, good ventilation, proper blackboards, possibilities for storage and display of materials that one expects in a normal primary classroom. The larger schools usually fare better. China which is more populated has chosen to set up bigger schools with better infrastructure in central villages making it possible for a majority of children to access these

Being a teacher’s child

Chintan Girish Modi No one’s going to be after her. She can get away with anything. After all, she’s a teacher’s child. I am not surprised she’s got such good marks in the exam. After all, she’s a teacher’s child. Let us stay away from him; what if he goes and complains to his mother? After all, he’s a teacher’s child. Variants of such comments are commonly heard in school canteens and playgrounds. Do teachers’ children really have it so easy because of their parents? Don’t they have to work hard at their studies or follow disciplinary rules? And what about the teacher as parent? How does that double role play out in real life? The wearer knows where the shoe pinches, goes the old saying. We interacted with a few teachers’ children and teachers themselves, and found that their situation is quite contrary to the kind of popular beliefs mentioned above. It is tough being a teacher’s child, and the challenges are numerous. Sharmila and Shantharam (Shanthu) are siblings who studied at Madhava Kripa School at Manipal, Karnataka. Their mother Shyla Rao taught at the same school. “My mother was not very different at school. She was strict and used to hit me at the drop of a hat at home; she did the same at school. I was not let off the hook at all. In fact, she used to be extra strict with me to avoid being accused of nepotism. My friends felt quite sorry for me,” says Sharmila. Sreevidya Surendran, who studied at the Gulf Indian School in Kuwait, says that her mother Anuradha was always very conscious of the fact that she was teaching her children – Sreevidya and her brother Shreejith. “Amma could not be too comfortable, since that could have been taken as favouritism. One is always a little tough on one’s own children than the rest. In my mum’s class, I was never allowed to slacken. ” Sharmila’s mother Shyla agrees that as a teacher, she had to make a conscious effort not only to avoid any partial feelings towards her children, but nip them in the bud. At home, she was amma; at school, she was Shyla teacher. She recalls how her son once called out to her as, “Teacher! Teacher!” when at home and immediately added, “Oh God! I forgot this isn’t school!” She taught her daughter for five months, and her son for two and a half years. Shyla says that it was not

The gift of Dyslexia

Zeba Raziunissa “I remember a teacher making me cry because I used my fingers to do ‘simple’ math problems.” “I have trouble expressing myself using words, and I have an extremely difficult time remembering exactly what people say. I only remember the concepts of discussions.” “When I try to read, the pages start to criss-cross and everything becomes distorted. Then everything starts bouncing up and down, almost like my eyes are shaking only they are not.” “I have a really hard time with my co-ordination. I always get my left and right body movements confused. I also write my letters backward at times.” “If I do manage to get through a page, by the time I get through the second I forget what the first as about and have to go back. It doesn’t seam to soak in.” These are the voices of dyslexia. And it was in response to these that a workshop on dyslexia with Kate Currawalla was held at Hyderabad on the 14th and 15th of February 2009. Organised for parents, teachers, and decision-makers, the workshop brought to light the meaning and incidence of dyslexia, problems experienced by these children and strategies to address them. Ms. Currawalla, President of the Maharastra Dyslexia Association (MDA), discussed the signs for early identification, practical academic adjustments, modified evaluation procedures and tips on helping with memory, spellings, and math strategies, importance of a multi-sensory approach, and building self-esteem and confidence. The structured activities, games, and interactive session allowed the participants to experience first hand the dismay and frustrations of a learning disabled child. The workshop had case studies where participants formed groups to discuss appropriate strategies to help the case in point. The interactive session brought forth ideas, exploded myths, and exposed prejudices. The brainstorming on how best to integrate a dyslexic child into the classroom brought some very practical tips forward. A participant for instance, felt that a dyslexic child be seated close to the teacher, so the child could be offered extra attention and also prompted when needed. Ms. Currawalla agreed that this was a practical idea and added to the point. “The teacher can have an understanding with the child and decide upon some subtle cue or gesture to prompt the child, each time he slips into a reverie. It is important to note here that the child must not be made to feel ashamed or ridiculed. Peer rejection can leave deep scars that can last a lifetime.” she cautioned. Another teacher felt

Race to the finish!

Usha Raman With board examinations round the corner, tenth and twelfth grade classes in most schools across the country are in revision mode. Pre-finals and preparatory examinations are in full swing. Teachers carry around notebooks and folders to be corrected and report cards to be filled, juggle timetables to squeeze in that one extra class, and hold last minute discussions with colleagues and parents on how to handle troublesome promotions. Just another day at the office, perhaps, but the end of the year lends a certain tension to the school air. There is anxiety on some faces, resignation on others, a weary acceptance on the more seasoned visages, and, for the few who have learned that anxiety is neither warranted nor wise, this time is like any other… just, as Lewis Carroll would say, more so! “The end of the year need not be any different from the end of any term,” says Gita Iyengar, Principal of Johnson Grammar School in Hyderabad. “The curriculum is broken up by term, reports need to be finished each term, so for the individual teacher, there are deadlines to meet every term,” she explains. Such a pragmatic attitude may be understandable, and perhaps to be expected, on the part of a principal, but do teachers really feel the same way? Are they able to treat the final examination only as a barometer of academic achievement and not some ultimate pronouncement on performance? Is the yearend stress not as big a deal as it is made out to be? Or is it only something students feel? For most teachers, the end of the year and everything it brings with it may be routine, but it is no less difficult or stressful because of that, but each individual deals with it differently and finds ways to cope. “Teachers do have a tough time when the third term comes around,” observes Sumalata Yadav, a high school social studies teacher in Kendriya Vidyalaya, Secunderabad. “The slow process of syllabus completion picks up speed, and we have to create an atmosphere that motivates the children to work toward the exams – particularly the school leaving classes.” While, as Gita Iyengar notes, “wiser” teachers may know how to pace out their work in such a way that they are not faced with a huge workload at the end of the year, there is still a certain amount of tension that characterizes the pre-exam weeks partly because of the high expectations of parents and school managements.

Do singing stars sometimes sink audiences?

Chandita Mukherjee What do the following Indian TV shows have in common? Boogie woogie on Sony, Star Voice of India on Star TV, Sa-re-ga-ma-pa on Zee TV, Chhote Ustad on Sony and Ek Se Badhkar Ek Chhota Packet, Bada Dhamaka also on Zee TV. If you are not living in a state of vanaprastha, you’d have guessed that these are among the plethora of what are popularly called children’s reality shows. Disguised as talent hunts or song and dance competions they have had children and adults hooked all over the country for the past several years. When Boogie Woogie started at the beginning of the decade, it looked like a fad set to catch on and fade when the novelty wore off, like so many other passing fads. Who would have guessed then that a genre was being born and the satellite channels would not be able to have enough of such programmes? And that there would be no dearth of kids groomed and rehearsed to full copycat standards, ready to appear on the shows? The channels need these kids and the ambitious parents of these children need the channels. The more shows there are, the more children turn up, and the more there are of parent-managers, grooming more kids, vying with each other for TV appearances, a loop that feeds itself endlessly. As much as they may be about the child’s performance, the shows are a vehicle for the parents. While showing off their untiring efforts, they hope to claim at least a moment of fame, if not a launching pad for future glory, fat bank balances and related lifestyle for the entire family, entirely based on little Munnu’s efforts. While at a superficial level, the shows may appear to foster healthy competition between innocent kids, bringing out hidden talents, the kids’ reality programs have come under criticism lately. Speaking at a Kolkata workshop on making amendments to the Indecent Representation of Women (Prohibition) Act, 1986 in July this year, Union Minister for Women and Child Development Renuka Chowdhury outrightly stated that reality shows were violating rights of children, and parents ought to be prevented from sending their children for them. She said, “The other day, I saw a tiny girl suggestively gyrating to a song whose meaning she obviously did not know. What do we say to parents sending their children to such shows?” The immediate cause for provocation was the case of teenaged Shinjini Sengupta who became partially paralyzed, allegedly after a

Why do we teach Science?

D Balasubramanian In school, subjects are taught to provide a broad understanding of our world and how it came to be, the processes that it runs by and the laws that govern it, both physical and social. While subjects are included also to give children an idea of what they may be interested in or good at, so as to make choices of career and vocation, they are also meant to give us the basic knowledge that will allow us to function intelligently and productively. To provide literacy, in the broadest sense of the term. Geography and history provide the conceptual tools that help people navigate through the world as conscious citizens, while mathematics gives us the practical skills to balance our books and estimate our budgets. Science, on the other hand, gives us the means by which we can avoid disease, plan our energy use, argue for better water and sanitation, control our time and resources, and understand the clockwork under the movement of the planets and stars. There is practical value in what we learn in school, but in the race to fulfill the demands of examinations; this value is lost in the business of preparing for tests. It is important that we step outside our textbooks from time to time to think about the subjects we are teaching. Is there a way to see that this teaching makes sense, both to the learner and the teacher? Can we link the subjects we teach to their real meaning for life? If our children are to be truly literate in all the subjects, such links must be constantly made. At the same time, in order to generate an interest in ideas, and in science, teachers can talk about breakthrough developments in a manner that makes two things apparent – the revolutionary nature of ideas and how they affect life in profound ways. Some students may be inspired to go further in the pursuit of science and generate their own path-breaking ideas. Others would (and must) acquire a familiarity with the basic concepts of science in a way that they will remember, and apply when the need arises. We will then have made them scientifically literate. It also is important for us, as teachers, to remain connected with the world around us and what learning means in an everyday sense. As educated individuals responsible for the education of others, how literate are we in arts and sciences of our age? Science literacy, food for thought

Caught between two worlds

Pawan Singh
From home to school and back, classroom to sports ground and back, and then finally to the examination hall, a child travels various distances to be finally considered “educated”.

Libraries can be fun

Chintan Girish Modi In most conceptions of school and places of organized learning, a library is central. In India, where many schools lack even a blackboard (or a teacher!), a library of any description is perhaps considered a luxury. Even in schools where libraries exist, they take many forms and are bound by rules and regulations that constrain use. This issue of Teacher Plus looks at just some of the many kinds of libraries that children, teachers, and communities have access to, in schools and out, fi xed and mobile, formal and informal, and considers ways in which we can extend the idea of the library and its many uses. My dream is to start a library for children. The shelves are over-flowing with books, and each time I pick up a new set, there is a struggle to make space for new friends that come from bookshops and discount sales, from pavements and publishing houses. I wish to create a space where children can fall in love with the magic of stories, wander off into exciting worlds, and begin their journey to learn about themselves and others. The urge to make this happen becomes more intense each time I hear about unimaginative attempts at encouraging reading. There is enough reason to believe that those who take it upon themselves to ‘instill the reading habit’ often end up doing much harm to the children whose cause they claim to espouse. Anmol Kapur is a Class 5 student of Delhi Public School in Hyderabad. He represents the classic case of a book lover who cannot read what he wants to because of adult notions about what is appropriate and what isn’t. He says, “In the school library, there are so many rules. They don’t allow you to read what you like. They tell you that you can’t read Hardy Boys before Class 5 because you won’t be able to understand it.” Grusha Prasad, a Class 8 student from Rosary Convent High School in Hyderabad, has a similar complaint. “The people in our school library are very protective about the books they give out. All the students get books based on the class they belong to. Sometimes, they limit it to Enid Blyton. It is just one room, and all the books are in a cupboard that we cannot touch without permission.” It is worth investigating why school libraries are the way they are, particularly the issue of not allowing kids free access. Shravya, a student of

Bag to the Future?

Nandini Nayar Sometime in June, when most schools reopen for the new academic year, you will spot at least a couple of photographs in the newspaper of small children bowed down under the weight of their enormous school bags. Accompanied by a thought provoking caption, these photographs hold our attention for some time and then we go back to packing our child’s school bag. Occasionally a politician or activist says something about the number of books children need to carry. Shock and outrage is expressed in indignant “Letters to the Editor”. The indignation is picked up by enthusiastic reporters and results in a couple of eye-opening articles on what the school-going child has to suffer in the name of education. But soon all this passes, and little attention is spared for the literal burden the child is forced to carry to school everyday. There is a collective amnesia on the part of parents and educators. A few months into the academic year, even the practical aspects and worries of going to school with heavy bags are submerged under more immediate concerns about exams, handwriting and fears that the child may require tuitions. Earnest meetings with school teachers and note-sharing sessions with other parents invariably concentrate on issues of this sort. The problem of the school bag pales in significance. Bent under the weight of these items, each absolutely “essential” for surviving a day at school, the child wends his way to class. The mind boggles at an education system that demands this kind of slave labour in the name of acquiring knowledge. What’s sad is that invariably it is the younger children who end up carrying huge loads to school. Try reasoning with a child of the primary class, explaining that he doesn’t need all the books at school everyday and that they can be safely left at home. All the books, this tiny child will announce firmly, are needed everyday at school. If you actually remove those that you think are not necessary, you can be sure that these will be sneaked back into the bag. Suggest that some of the books or notebooks be left at home till they are actually needed at school, and the teacher reacts with horror. And woe betides any child who actually leaves a notebook at home. Disgrace and almost certain punishment await him. This brings one to the question – is the acquisition of knowledge linked to the number of books carried to school everyday or even

School’s Out, for Summer!

Pavitra Rao
“In the summer time…,” a song blasts from the radio, while you start your day leisurely, sitting down with a hot cup of coffee in your hand, reading the newspaper to catch up on your daily dose of the news.

Unsung and unhonoured for too long?

Being a teacher’s child

The gift of Dyslexia

Race to the finish!

Do singing stars sometimes sink audiences?

Why do we teach Science?

Caught between two worlds

Libraries can be fun

Bag to the Future?

School’s Out, for Summer!

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