(from
Wednesday, January 29, 2014)
When we arrive at the rickshaw stand, a swarm of drivers
huddle around us and inquire of our intent. Confidently, and rehearsed, Taylor
announces, “We need to get dropped off at the highway circle, near the gas
station, next to the third tea stall on the Mysore-Bangalore Road.” Exchanges
in Hindi and/or Kannada are tossed around, and before we know it, Appu – the
rickshaw OG – ushers us towards his vehicle. The usual bargaining follows as
both parties throw random fares back and forth; Appu’s generous negotiations suggest one of three
possibilities:
- We have some serious haggling skills.
- Appu really likes us.
- Appu has no idea where the highway circle, near the gas station, next to the third tea stall on the Mysore-Bangalore Road is located.
We quickly confirm number three as the winner, when Appu
maneuvers his auto to the “side” of the street and turns to us with an apprehensive
smile. We ring up Mrs. Geetha, the principal at DPS Mysore, who is waiting for
us at said unnamed gas station, and pass the phone to Appu. An “ah” and “eh”
are uttered by Appu, a U-turn is made into oncoming traffic (Indian style), a
reactionary swear word (or two . . . okay, more like three) by Tiffany, and
within moments we have arrive at the unnamed gas station, next to the third tea
stall, on the Mysore-Bangalore Road. Not bad, Appu.
Fortunately, Mrs. Geetha and her driver are still in good
spirits, despite the fact that our tardiness has assured their late arrival to
school.
Our
observations begin in a 7th standard geography class. The
lecture-based class relies heavily on the use of a video module that compares
the Amazon River Basin to India's holy Ganges. The majority of students’ desks
are void of materials, which suggest the expectation is to listen and follow
along. The teacher interjects at regular intervals to pose, mostly literal,
questions that seem to require students to use information previously acquired,
yet connected to the current topic of study. As noted in the DPS Bangalore
North visit (see previous post), students stand to present what sounds like
memorized textbook excerpts. At one point, the teacher calls on a student who
does not have her hand up; the girl stands, eyes casted downward, and
embarrassingly requests for the question again. Obliging her request, the
teacher repeats and the girl proudly delivers the correct answer. Like her
peers, the breadth of content is impressive, but we both note a lack of depth
in the response given by the student and requested by the teacher.
Abruptly,
midway through the lesson, the teacher halts her lecture to declare that it is
time to interact with “the Mr. and Mrs. Taylor.” Seemingly un-phased by the
sudden redirection of the task, students bolt to the back of the classroom with
a tornado of questions:
"What
is your good name?"
“How
are your accommodations?”
“How
is the food?”
“Too
spicy?”
“Did
you eat lunch yet?”
“What
pets do you keep?”
"Does
New York City have traffic like Mysore?"
"I
love American food. Do you like hot dogs, too?"
"You're
sweating. Are you hot right now?"
"Can
I give you a hug?"
"Do
you dye your hair?"
"Are
you old enough to be a teacher?"
"Do
your students love school?"
Whew!
Second
classroom observation of the day: 8th standard history. Arriving a
few minutes late, we attempt to quietly make our way into the room unnoticed,
but the teacher, once again, pauses the lesson. This time, however, it is to
inquire about content, specifically if we would like her to lecture on the
Indian Nationalist Movement (INM) to help our research. Taylor attempts to
convince her that this is not necessary and that she should continue with her
plan. Clearly unconvinced by his words, she launches into a well-rehearsed
oration on the INM. Okay, girl! Get in
there.
Below
are observations from Taylor’s notebook:
The
content is Hindu-centered and predominately pays homage to the actions of
Mahatma Gandhi. When Gandhi is not center stage, the spotlight shifts to Nehru.
The
role of women is touched on for almost a minute, but the narrative is void of
names and any real specifics.
The
Muslim airtime is isolated to a brief aside regarding the partitioning of
Pakistan and India. Muslims are only
mentioned in tandem to periods of chaos.
While
the lesson gives an earnest attempt to be objective, the Muslim League appears
to be the "culprit" for the split as well as the proceeding violence
the country is still healing from.
As
the class comes to a close, the teacher opens the floor for “interactions with the guests” (yes, this happens again!). Before
a blast of questions ensues, Taylor
takes the opportunity to recruit students for a small
group interview. The energy of the class plummets and students shyly turn away
from us in their seats. Quickly interjecting, Tiffany clarifies that the
interview is not a test and no marks
would be assigned; we simply want to chat. Students swirl back to face us with hands waving (literally)
in the air. Although we select four young women, we somehow end up with nine by
the time we make our way from the classroom to the school library.
The
interviews revolve around a series of questions we have revised from other
studies as well as those we have crafted ourselves. Our primary aim is to
gather student perspectives about the instruction they receive in regards to the
Indian Nationalist Movement.
We
start by asking general questions about the time they spend in social studies
class. This is followed with a unanimous roar of "history is boring” and
“it has no purpose in our daily lives.” Yet there is an endearing tone amongst
the girls when we ask about their teacher: "Oh, we love ma'am."
Our
queries become more focused as everyone warms up, and their
forceful sense of national pride emerges when we ask about their country:
"Oh yes sir! I am very proud to be Indian."
However,
we're still trying to piece together our own interpretations circling the last
set of questions on identity. Each of
the nine young women identify first and foremost as Indian. When we ask how else they think of themselves, six of the nine young women classify as
Hindu, two as Jain, and one as Muslim. The
intermediate giggling that has
persisted throughout the previous part of
the interview seizes at this point and a semi-awkward silence lingers (think about those
awkward pauses when a waiter drops a plate in a restaurant).
Recognizing
this shift in mood, Taylor, attempting to unearth the feelings behind this, immediately
launches into an off-the-cuff “word association game.” He begins by asking,
"When you hear the word Hindu, what comes to mind?" Responses range
from “pride” to “India” and, as mentioned by the young Muslim girl, “powerful.”
[Awkward silence persists.]
We
follow up with the question, "When you hear the word Islam, what comes to
mind?" An immediate moan and one of
the six Hindu-identifying girls says, "They're trouble makers and cause pain
to India." The Muslim girl, turning
a deep crimson color, quickly retorts with "that's only because we
hurt them first."
[Insert that awkward silence again.]
At
this point, our conclusions are far from complete,
as this is just the beginning of many data points. However, it is ironic that a
curriculum that promotes the tag line of "diversity is unity" as a
key lever of the Indian Nationalist Movement would produce a series of
responses as we noted above.
Just
as we thank our nine interviewees, a wee lad from the elementary school rushes into
the library. Gasping for breath, after his gallop through the hallways, he
kindly informs us that Ms. Geetha requests our presence. Because of the frantic
look on this little dude’s face, we urgently pack up and follow him to the
school's amphitheater where the entire community of students and teachers are
awaiting our arrival. What follows can only be described as a school assembly
on steroids: dance routines, flag waving, awards ceremony for the recent track
race, and speeches that range from the upcoming weather report to the legacy of
Gandhi. As the festivities come to a
close we look at each other, smiling with relief that Taylor would not have to
make another surprise speech, when Principal Geetha takes the mic and informs
the students that "our distinguish guest, Mr. Taylor, will come leave you
with some words of inspiration!"
Yep.
That happened. Again.
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