PRATHIMA DAYANIDHI*
Parenting is one of the most significant responsibilities that a person can take on. It involves raising another human being with the right value systems so that the child can become a responsible individual in society. Education plays a major role in this upbringing, both at school and college. Most Indian parents go through the rigorous (and often stressful) process of choosing the right kind of education for their child, based on their own upbringing and their own ideas. As the child grows, as in all relationships, parents too discover their own expectations for the child. It usually starts with small steps, such as keeping the child busy in a ‘productive’ way rather than letting them watch TV; this is soon replaced by filling the child’s day with non-stop classes; and finally, pushing the child to excel in everything they do, but more so in academics. If one is not aware of where one’s expectations are stemming from, there is a greater possibility of altering the child’s inherent personality, which can lead to damaging their confidence and self-image. It is a delicate balancing act. Right parenting can’t be found in books; it comes more from one’s own intuition, observation, and wisdom than anywhere else.
Being in the field of education for fifteen years as a teacher in one of the alternative schools in Bangalore (The Valley School), I take the liberty of sharing my views on education and parenting. This is based on my interactions with many parents and students of all ages. It is important to understand that schooling is not only about academics, and that there is much more needed for children to grow to be well-rounded individuals. This applies to children of all ages including those who are college-going. In our country, there is a view that pre-university education is the gateway into higher education, and so, it is the most important milestone for a child. As a child approaches higher grades, this view, almost a conviction, often provokes parents to begin a frenzied search for institutes that will put their offspring through rigorous academic drills. That pre-university education is an important milestone in a child’s life may be true. However, as I mentioned earlier, education is not limited to academics.
If given the right environment, I have seen children growing into mature mini adults, coming into their own, thinking, responding, and relating to various issues around them. When I say the ‘right environment’, I mean an affectionate, friendly, but rigorous approach with an exposure to various thought processes. This also includes introducing them to various art forms and physical activities. The late adolescent period is a crucial time in their lives as they are rediscovering themselves as individuals with apparently vast potential. When they are encouraged to build upon their individuality, one can witness their flowering into sensible, sensitive, and responsible adults who can make valid decisions for themselves.
This is unusual, though. When I look around, I am alarmed by the kind of stress and torment many students are put through in the name of pre-university education. When we read news articles about students committing suicide, unable to cope with academic pressure, our hearts go out to the child. And yet, the number of parents subjecting their children to such abomination seems to be increasing. Isn’t that frightening? And sad? Let me share a few scenarios that I have witnessed in recent days that have shaken me to the core.
Scenario 1: There are a few cities in Karnataka (such as Mangalore) that are known for the ‘best’ coaching centres for pre-university students aspiring to be doctors and engineers (the keyword here being ‘best’). There are about 2000–2500 enrolments every year from all over the state, country, and even NRIs. Enrolments begin with an initial written test and interview(s). Based on the student’s performance in the test and their preference for CET or NEET, they are placed in different sections. Teenagers who are entering the pre-university level are not very easy to manage (raging hormones, tendency to question authority, wanting more freedom). One of the most convenient ways to ‘handle’ them is to impose strict rules to keep them in check and train them to be part of the herd. Many institutes follow this approach. Especially the colleges with hostels. Girls and boys are strictly prohibited from talking to each other outside classrooms, and once the classes are over students are expected to head straight to their rooms. Classes are Monday through Saturday, 7 am to 7 pm. That is a seventy-two-hour week. Four short breaks are allowed daily. Most institutes provide good food to satisfy the taste buds of teenagers.
Apparently, there are yoga and meditation classes in between to help them ‘balance’ the stress of stretching themselves beyond their usual capacities. Very little or no sports/games/art/music finds a place in the schedule. Every other day, students are allowed a thirty-minutelong phone call to their parents.
Scenario 2: If parents are not keen on putting their children into these hostels, they have the convenient option of day schooling. Many parents (mothers, especially) move from small towns to cities and rent a house to stay with their children so that they can make them feel secure and continue to coax them to go through it all, since the hardship is only for two years. In such day schools, students attend classes Monday through Saturday, 9 am to 7 pm, or sixty hours a week. Since this may not be enough considering that the hostel students spend seventy-two hours a week in school, some institute authorities have come up with the brilliant solution to have classes on Sundays! While Sunday classes are for just half a day, from 9 am to 1 pm, it seems adding four more hours to the day scholar’s schedule is still better than twelve whole hours of missed academics. Thus the students who opt to become day scholars must go to school on all seven days of the week. But it’s apparently not all that bad: on Sundays they get to attend classes wearing a ‘sports uniform’. And on general holidays they get to wear a ‘colour dress’ to school. Isn’t that fun?
Scenario 3: There are many integrated coaching centres that offer PUC along with coaching for NEET or CET. These centres are available in plenty in and around Bengaluru. They too promise ‘best’ results. Some are apparently run by former IITians. Here too the scenario is pretty much like the previous two scenarios, with students having to attend classes for ten to twelve hours a day (including Sunday) for revision and tests. Some coaching centres have mandated that students stay Monday through Friday in the hostel. If students are lucky, they may have one class for games in a week. Some of these coaching centres only focus on the ‘core’ subjects and students have to study non-core subjects, such as languages on their own. The upside is that they get to stay at home with their parents unlike the previous scenarios. This makes the torture a little more bearable, perhaps?
Scenario 4: This is for those students from small towns whose parents cannot afford to send their children to hostels, or do not have the heart to subject them to the above-mentioned hostel life. They do not have facilities like those in Bengaluru where the students can go to integrated coaching centres. What can they do if they aspire for ‘best’ education? Of course, where there is demand there is supply. The smaller-town youngsters attend pre-university college from 9 am to 5 pm, come home, and then sit in front of the computer for three-hour long online coaching classes every evening. Perhaps a couple of hours of classes on Sundays too. See how parents and coaching centres have found ‘perfect’ solutions for providing the ‘best’ education!
In all of the above scenarios we sense the intent of the parents and the facilities offered by the colleges/coaching centres. But in all this, where is the voice or will of the student? At the end of this rigorous academic training, quite a few students perhaps do manage to get into prestigious colleges for engineering and medicine. But then the university courses demand further rigour and discipline, as is expected of higher education. Which means the journey of stress and rigour goes on for six to eight years for the student. More, if they drop a year or two to get into the college/university of their choice. Six to eight years of a stressful life which demands discipline and rigour with mostly nothing but studying. Why will this not raise young teenagers to become individuals with lopsided development and little emotional maturity? Why are so many parents only concerned with tangible academic progress? What about the physical and mental growth along with it? Students who are subjected to six to eight years of continuous stress come out into the world with little or no emotional resilience because they have not been given the chance to develop that life-saving skill. Some succumb to suicide, unable to cope with the stress; the rest struggle hard to balance work, life, and relationships. What are we doing to these youngsters as a society?
Subjecting young ones to blinding educational methods has become a vicious cycle. Parents want the ‘best’ for their children, without realising or pausing to ask themselves ‘best according to whom? Or best for whom?’ So-called educational institutes come up with more and more torturous ways to squeeze out ‘stupendous results’ from their students. Who is listening to the students? Is it enough to have counsellors for addressing the symptoms and to pacify parents that all will be well? Shouldn’t we be looking at the root cause of all of this?
For working adults around the world, we have labour laws. Every country has defined the working hours per week (in India it is so far forty-eight hours). The employer is mandated to compensate for the additional hours put in by the employee. This may or may not be followed by all the companies/factories, but the laws are in place for enforcing this. But what about laws for students? Shouldn’t there be regulations that mandate a maximum number of hours a student can attend classes? Shouldn’t there be at least a day’s break in a week? Is this not a basic human need? Countries are now considering three-day or four-day work weeks, while many of our young ones struggle with seventy-two hours a week with nothing to look forward to other than a colour dress or a games dress! The call of the hour is to normalize the process of education, especially the preuniversity level, rather than viewing it as the ultimate entryway into the world of opportunities. Not every student is meant to be a doctor or engineer. We need to stop pushing them to achieve ridiculous 99 per cent results. Rigor is needed, not torture. There is a fine line between the two.
Most of us know about Kota in Rajasthan, considered the Mecca of pre-university preparation, and what its current situation is. A web series titled ‘Kota Factory’ (aptly named) on Netflix gives a true glimpse. There are statistics sharing data about the stress-related trauma and suicides amongst students in Kota. And yet, students are sent there every year. We need to pause and think: what makes parents send their childrento such institutes in spite of knowing the harsh struggles they may have to go through? And now, alarmingly, there are Kotas mushrooming all over our country. If parents take the first crucial step of deciding that their children deserve more than Kota, how do you think things would change?