Chetan's Musings

In a recent casual discussion, the CEO of a prominent CSR foundation shared her lament about how youngsters who join the social sector prefer to spend their time at the office, noses buried in their laptops. Going by my observations of some of these youngsters as well, this indeed appears to be a disturbing trend. The social sector is all about causing a positive change to the lives of those who've been left behind. Much of this is to do with basic human requirements such as health & nutrition, education, livelihoods, clean water, and dignity. As in any other social discipline, the traditional classroom can only at best provide a theoretical perspective - the real learning can only be found in the field. To that, no alternative exists. And this learning is seldom apparent in one or even a few visits. The field reveals itself gradually - layer upon layer - and that too, only to the discerning, non-judgmental eye. For a newcomer to the sector, it would take several vis...

That little boy in Grade 4 of the MCD school gave me a desolate, forlorn look...a look of desperation and helplessness. In front of him, on his desk, was a notebook. On it was his vain attempt to write a simple sentence in Hindi. Just a few minutes back, as I had walked into this classroom at the school in Nand Nagri in North Shahdara, Delhi, the children had greeted me with their singsong Good Morninnnnng, Sir! I had walked to the back of the class, and had asked this little boy whether he knew how to write. Yes, he had said confidently. Okay, I said, smiling at him. Can you write down this simple sentence? I opened a fresh page on his notebook in front of him, and dictated, "राम आम खाता  था", ensuring the words were all of the same easy vowel sound in Hindi (the long aa). He took his pencil, and started to write. Managed to write the first letter र. Added the aa sound to make it रा. Then stopped. Fumbled...thought...gave up. Looked at me with those helpless little eyes....

A brick road runs through the center of the village. It had rained heavily the previous evening; we are greeted with the warm smell of fresh earth and cowdung. Chaitasangma is one of numerous villages that dot the landscape of north Bihar, situated around 100 kms to the north of the capital city of Patna. I am there as part of a recce for a forthcoming project for Edulever. The people aren't sure what we are doing here. They look at us with a mixture of suspicion and anticipation. The people are largely the women and the children - the men of Chaita are in far-off Delhi and Punjab, some working as construction labor, others as rickshaw-pullers. The women lament that their children have no option but to grow up without their fathers - who are here only for the festival season. Since Chhath , the largest festival of Bihar, is round the corner, the menfolk's arrival is eagerly awaited in Chaita. It's not 10 am as yet, so the children are not in school. Not yet. So...

A "classroom" in progress at the courtyard of a Masjid in Tonk, Rajasthan. July 2011. The classroom remains one of the most sequestered environments within any institution. What goes on inside this sanctuary is seldom subject to observation, and that which is not observed can scarcely be corrected or improved. This is especially true in the case of a classroom with young learners, who cannot be expected to be discerning about the quality of learning that they receive. Even older learners tend to accept the “service” provided to them in a classroom rather unquestioningly – unlike what happens in any other arrangement between a service provider and the recipient of the service. What goes into the DNA of a classroom? Is it the curriculum? Or the teacher’s ability to transact the curriculum? Why is it that learners’ tend to positively respond to certain stimuli, and remain apathetic to others? What sets apart a high quality classroom process from a poor quality one? ...