Web of Life

Note: So this one was slightly difficult to write, primarily because I am confessing a weakness here, and you know how rarely that happens with me. Also, it is comparatively longer, so start with it when you have 15 minutes to spare.

If you’re reading this then in all probability you have been exposed to my extremely emotional over reactions at some point or the other. I subjected my kids to the drama recently, and I've been feeling horribly guilty since.

It all started with an (awesome) activity I wanted to do with the kids, called the “Web of Life”. It basically has kids sitting in a circle holding a card with the name of some element of nature (sun, frog, tree etc). There’s also a string which you pass to any element that you feel you have a connection with (like sun can pass to tree, tree can pass to squirrel) and then you talk about the connection. Eventually you end up with a web connecting the different students/elements. And you see how everything in nature is interrelated. How the key elements (like the sun, water) are linked to almost everything. You get how incredible this activity is? I was insanely excited to do this in class! (yes, things like this excite me nowadays J )

And then came the day. I reached school with all my enthusiasm over flowing. However I only managed to get the kids in the last hour of the day (after heavy coercion and an exchange of classes with the Hindi teacher- she protects her classes like a dragoness protects her eggs). I should have anticipated at that point that the end of the day fatigue could pose some trouble but I was blinded by all that I thought the activity could achieve.

So off we marched to an empty room and sat in a circle, with our placards up, familiar with the rules of the game and ready to learn. But then came the first murmur from one group, I ignored it and gave the string to the “sun” to start. The “sun” passed it to “water”, after making a brilliant water cycle connection- I was SO happy then, I almost didn't hear the murmurs become louder. But soon the brilliant connections were getting drowned in the many side conversations, I used my first weapon- the stare. That worked for like 10 seconds and then back to the mumbling, then came my second weapon- the sincere request. That worked for like 5 minutes, and then they got back to their games of pushing-shoving-hitting. By now my frustration level was quite high. I could see all my ideas of learning and fun crashing all around me. And it was all downhill from there, I yelled some but to no avail. No one was listening, everyone was talking and I snapped. Out came the downpour in front of 40 kids. I said something like, please go home and proceeded to take the string from each kid with tears rolling throughout. I wasn't thinking anymore, there was complete silence in the room with my sobs being the only sound. I rolled the string together, and just left. I just could not stop crying. After a point I think I was crying just over the embarrassment of what I had done. And then it became about all my failures in the classroom, and then it became about self doubt. My auto driver was quite freaked out.

I calmed down in an hour or so and I realized the disaster that I’d made. It was so unfair on my part to subject the kids to so much drama. I was the adult in the situation, I should’ve controlled myself. It led to a deeper self reflection session, about which I’ll tell you in person.

I walked into class the next day, with nothing but honesty. I spoke to them, and I told them exactly what happened and the reason for my reaction. I also apologized to them, and you know what, they understood. I was flooded with “sorry” cards (that made me feel super guilty) with personal notes. The messages got me teary eyed again (I really need to do something about this!).

To anyone on the outside, this whole incident might seem unnecessary and weak and what not. And I agree,it was all that and more. But it happened, and somehow my weakness strengthened my relationship with my students. They've seen me fail, and now they’ll see me spring back on the path with new found enthusiasm and they’ll learn about never giving up. Ten years later, I’ll go to visit them in their college and we’ll laugh about the time “Didi broke down in class.”

When I saw your eyes shine

You had been testing my patience for a while. You would either sit in class with a blank expression or you would be disturbing the ones sitting around you. I tried to be understanding, I really did. I knew you had a really low literacy level, you couldn't even write a full sentence in English. I figured that was the reason you were so uninterested( How many classes in pure Japanese would I want to attend?). I tried to talk to you after class, on multiple occasions. But you would just stare at me throughout my monologues and my questions, without a word and then just smile and say "Haan kal se padhungi" in the softest voice possible. Like a fool, I considered that a victory. I was convinced that THIS time you would try, try to learn. That's all I wanted from you.

I was disillusioned after the third cycle of this process. The whole class was writing and you hadn't even taken out your notebook! All the frustration came to the forefront,and I asked you to leave class.  

I met you after class and this time I refused to be the one talking. I asked you about what you did at home after school. 10 minutes of silence followed. You realized that this time I wasn't going to let it go. You whispered, "khaana khati hoon". For the next 40 minutes, I asked one probing question after the other to find out what you did at home. 40 minutes and you would have said 100 words in response to my 2358994. What worried me most was your voice, or the lack of it. I asked you to call out to Swapneel Sir who was sitting at the other end of the class. You couldn't get yourself to even whisper his name for the first 5 minutes. It then took you 20 minutes and innumerable failed whispers to call out his name in a voice loud enough to make him look at you.

I visited your house soon after. I had pictured your life at home- a silent life and I was almost sure that you were abused at home. Your 12x12 home had more surprises in store than I had expected. I was welcomed SO warmly by your mother and your elder sisters, it didn't take me long to sense that you were loved. Your mother was boasting(very proudly) about your sisters' academic excellence achieved without tuition (and I know that's such a big deal!). Your sisters told me of how they tried teaching you time and again but you resisted, each time with new found stubbornness. Oh and the ladies in your house complained of how much you spoke! I was completely - :O at that. They told me of your obsession with dressing up. Of how you'd take your mother's dupattas and drape them around and model around. They told me of how you loved cleaning the house and cooking food. How you loved playing the loving,doting,uneducated housewife. And at that moment I realized HOW scared you were of studies. It wasn't just disinvestment, it was fear. And strangely, I felt very responsible for that.

While we were walking back, I told you about what a fashion designer does and how you could also be one someday. And for the first time, in the three months that I'd known you Zia, I saw your eyes light up.

The C Word

This Saturday I completed my first month in school. The month has been full of good, bad, ugly and very ugly days. There have been tears (from both sides), voices that have gone hoarse (again on both sides), little successes and joy. A lot of joy! However, on my one month anniversary (:D), there is one question I want to ask myself:

At this point, how strongly do I believe that ALL my children will go to college?

Because that’s why am I doing what I am doing right- to give them an excellent education, so that they get a leveled playing field and can go to the best colleges of India. So that where they come from doesn't define where they will end up. That’s the big picture. Do I see ALL my students heading that way? At this point, the answer is a dismal no. I can think of maybe 15 out of my 90 kids who have the spark that could take them all the way, and that’s wonderful! They have the drive to catch up on the skill set. But what about the other 75?

Some might argue saying that when we were in Grade 5 we never thought of college. Well, we never thought of college because it was a given. I am talking about children for whom exactly the opposite is the norm. If they have to defy the norm, they need to be convinced about it this early.

Here’s the good news- I’ve understood the need for this urgency early on. I have two years to build a vision for the college dream, how hard can it be? J MUST KEEP THE FAITH, yes? J

Step one, you say we need to talk.

Note: Play this while you read, if you can: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DF0zefuJ4Ys

How to change a life. That is the song that sprung up on my ipod as I started writing this. And an epiphany happened. The song will never be the same for me again. It will not be about a friend, a boy, it won't even be about Grey's Anatomy. This song will be about Altaf. One of the 70 students in Malwani I am responsible for. The changes in my week long relationship with Altaf are eerily reflected in The Fray's song.

The first day when he came to school, I didn't teach him in class. We spoke outside the class when he was sent out ( this is a part of the lovely consequence system Adithya and Swapneel, my co-fellows,have established. After a warning is given, the student who is disturbing/misbehaving has to go out and talk to the other teacher. The conversation is on the lines of "WHY did you do what you did? What else could you have done?" I think it's a lovely way of dealing with behaviour management in class!) Okay-the parenthesis was way too long! Anyhow, I spoke to Altaf for the first time when he was sent out. The conversation was quite smooth. He accepted his mistake, apologized. He added an additional promise of being totally on-task when I'd come into class. However, the next day the promise was betrayed and how! For twenty minutes I couldn't teach anything because no one was listening to me! It wasn't just Altaf-everyone. Oh! Those twenty minutes were horrible- you don't want to be there. Like EVER. It was like a scene from the movie. I was screaming, "Students sit downnnnnn" and that worked like a cue  for them to shout more. I think I was more glad than the kids when the recess bell rang (yes, that's how the 20 minutes got over). But as I was walking towards the staff room, dejected and disappointed, Hussaina came upto me and apologized for the way the class behaved. And she became my silver lining. I realized that I'd spent the twenty minutes focussing on the 15 students who were creating havoc. I tried hard to picture the remaining 15, I had to think hard to focus on them - sitting silently, waiting for me to take charge, waiting and wanting to learn. So I went back in, with a different mindset, a stronger voice and a stronger will. And it worked, somewhat. You see how dramatic an hour in school can be? This is just ONE story, I have 45 hours worth of stories:) Oh! I am digressing. Altaf. After class, I spoke to him again- and this time I spoke to him as I would have if he were an adult. Next day- bang. Altaf was top notch in class, engaged-responsive-silent when required. Oh God! I can't explain the joy. But here comes the twist, after class I went to him to thank him for being so brilliant in class and he ignored me. Like he pretended that I wasn't there and continued shading one spot in his book. I had to leave then because the next class was starting, but I was totally dumbfounded by that. I caught him in the corridor a couple of hours later. For the next five minutes, I was talking and he was looking in the other direction. He spoke when I told him that neither of us would leave till he'd tell me about what was happening. And then came a reminder of the fact that underneath all the attempts at acting "totes cool" and all macho, he was, after all a kid. He said he was mad at me because I did not let him answer each time he raised his hand. At that moment, I kept the internal smile internal, and I told him quite sternly that that was a ridiculous reason and I wouldn't tolerate such behaviour. Since then we've been better. He still sits sideways in my class, sometimes passes cheeky comments. But we're both trying.
"As he goes left and you say right
 Between the lines of fear and blame
 You begin to wonder why you came"
I don't need to wonder why I came though. I have faces to my reasons :)