Usually the flag hoisting at the Indian Embassy here is early in the morning. We would start out from home before it was fully light, distribute flags for the students to wave, stand in the icy cold desert winter watching and waiting for the ceremony to begin. It felt good to endure the discomfort, reminding me of the extremes that my country men suffer to guard the nation.
Was this year's 9a.m. ceremony symptomatic of something? Besides it was bright and warm too.
The embassy had asked for 25 students from each Indian school. I wasn't surprised to find that no arrangement was made to accommodate them. So all had to squeeze together and try to get a glimpse of what went on. Seeing the tricolour unfurl and flutter, the shouts of Bharat Mata Ki Jai always make me emotional, and in the afterglow I forgot to be annoyed with the officials. I also forgot to frown at the late-comers, important people of the Indian diaspora, who swept in past the barricades to occupy reserved spots, for I was more aware of the 'common ground rather than the differences'(I've just read Mandela).
Hot breakfast distributed free by Mughal Mahal hotel awaited us. The students were given priority and they stood in proper lines - that was good. There are pretty trimmed bushes at the embassy grounds and the base of each was white with discarded plates - that was bad. Reading the India special supplement of the local newspaper was distressing. Some columns said that it was the 59th anniversary while another said that it had completed 60 years of being a republic. One claimed that it was 58 years. Is this confusion a result of thoughtlessness or too much thought?
As the Charge de affaires read out the message to the nation given by the President of India, I overheard a lady say, "Hey he copied it yaar. Same same thing Pratibha Patil said yeshtaarday." I felt nice that Indians did listen to the president's address so closely.
Jai Hind!
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
The Test
Breathless sighs
through parted lips,
Eyes half closed,
Moving fingertips.
Bite marks
Scratches
Swish of sheets.
Sweat and stain
As bodies strain.
A secret smile
Aah - that's good!
tick tock
tick tock
urgent haste
tick tock
tick tock
faster faster...
screaming bells
and then release
Socks to pull
And strings to tie
As pens are shut
secretions dry.
through parted lips,
Eyes half closed,
Moving fingertips.
Bite marks
Scratches
Swish of sheets.
Sweat and stain
As bodies strain.
A secret smile
Aah - that's good!
tick tock
tick tock
urgent haste
tick tock
tick tock
faster faster...
screaming bells
and then release
Socks to pull
And strings to tie
As pens are shut
secretions dry.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Emerging Enlightened From Fifth Standard
Just two terms in fifth standard and I’ve learnt so much! The education has been multilevel – ethical, practical, creative and.... relentless.
Here are a few lessons that the 10 year olds taught me.
We were describing experiences in a railway station. That was the exercise given in the reader. Few had seen a train or a station. So I switched to an airport - and the response was resounding. But they spoke only about things that they bought at the airport – chocolates, cookies, juice, toys and one smart boy said books ( my repeated talks about the wonder of books and reading gave him an idea what would please me.) Wanting to turn the discussion to other things, I told the class that I loved to observe people at the airport – their clothes, appearance, behaviour... when Kevin in his high pitched voice said, “ Ma’am I think you were staring and that is not polite.” – and down dropped my sails…
Once we were doing Ruskin Bond’s 'A Face In The Dark', the story of a person meeting a faceless boy in the woods. This man runs in terror and reports to the watchman at his residence the scary sight. The climax of the story is the watchman holding his lantern to his face and asking, “ Was the face like this?” And the person is horrified to see that the watchman also had no features on his face. I had expected the class to experience the thrill of fear, the mystery of the supernatural. I’d expected wrong. They had a more down to earth doubt – How did the watchman speak if he didn’t have a mouth???
Entering class five is like stepping into the tower of Babel. Everyone speaks, not bothering if anyone listens. The sight of a teacher triggers cacophony. There are those who remind you that you have to give a dictation or collect the worksheet or give back the corrected work or take the recitation test or something. There is a bunch that offers service- to distribute the books or collect the homework or clean the blackboard or write the names of offenders. Then there are requests- Can I go to the toilet, I want to drink water, Please give us games, May I read first… But the majority enjoys complaining – That boy pushed me, She took my pen, Stuti is copying the homework from Wafa,You didn’t give my book after correction, I don’t have place to sit, She spoke in Malayalam, He speaks Tamil all the time, Walid said a bad word, He said shut up, He called me dog… It is a practical exam in patience I tell you!
The other day Aditya who has the loudest voice said “Ma’am Walid used the F word!!” The ‘oooh’ that followed inspired him to repeat the accusation even louder . Obviously Aditya was enjoying the added pleasure of uttering the prohibited word with total legitimacy. I had to do something before he spelled it out. So I turned on the guilty Walid with an angry frown and threatened him with dire consequences if he dared to repeat the crime. I then felt compelled to give a short talk on abstinence from uttering bad words. “Shame on all those who use filthy language,” I launched into the tirade, “The words you use show your culture. If you use such words, it shows that you are uncivilized (they had just learnt that word) Such small children, using such bad words…!.” I couldn’t complete the scolding. Aditya bobbed up like a @#*!@# Jack-in-the-box asking(shouting), “WHEN WE GROW OLDER CAN WE USE BAD WORDS, Ma’am?” It took a while for me to untie my tongue and put it back into my big mouth which was already occupied by my foot - shoe, stocking and all.
Logic is supreme for these children. If the masculine gender for mistress is master then the masculine for Countess should be Counter. And a female monk should be monkey??
There are so many more enlightening experiences that happen in that room. I need to jot them down before they slip from my mind. But then I am too preoccupied in experiencing those experiences
Here are a few lessons that the 10 year olds taught me.
We were describing experiences in a railway station. That was the exercise given in the reader. Few had seen a train or a station. So I switched to an airport - and the response was resounding. But they spoke only about things that they bought at the airport – chocolates, cookies, juice, toys and one smart boy said books ( my repeated talks about the wonder of books and reading gave him an idea what would please me.) Wanting to turn the discussion to other things, I told the class that I loved to observe people at the airport – their clothes, appearance, behaviour... when Kevin in his high pitched voice said, “ Ma’am I think you were staring and that is not polite.” – and down dropped my sails…
Once we were doing Ruskin Bond’s 'A Face In The Dark', the story of a person meeting a faceless boy in the woods. This man runs in terror and reports to the watchman at his residence the scary sight. The climax of the story is the watchman holding his lantern to his face and asking, “ Was the face like this?” And the person is horrified to see that the watchman also had no features on his face. I had expected the class to experience the thrill of fear, the mystery of the supernatural. I’d expected wrong. They had a more down to earth doubt – How did the watchman speak if he didn’t have a mouth???
Entering class five is like stepping into the tower of Babel. Everyone speaks, not bothering if anyone listens. The sight of a teacher triggers cacophony. There are those who remind you that you have to give a dictation or collect the worksheet or give back the corrected work or take the recitation test or something. There is a bunch that offers service- to distribute the books or collect the homework or clean the blackboard or write the names of offenders. Then there are requests- Can I go to the toilet, I want to drink water, Please give us games, May I read first… But the majority enjoys complaining – That boy pushed me, She took my pen, Stuti is copying the homework from Wafa,You didn’t give my book after correction, I don’t have place to sit, She spoke in Malayalam, He speaks Tamil all the time, Walid said a bad word, He said shut up, He called me dog… It is a practical exam in patience I tell you!
The other day Aditya who has the loudest voice said “Ma’am Walid used the F word!!” The ‘oooh’ that followed inspired him to repeat the accusation even louder . Obviously Aditya was enjoying the added pleasure of uttering the prohibited word with total legitimacy. I had to do something before he spelled it out. So I turned on the guilty Walid with an angry frown and threatened him with dire consequences if he dared to repeat the crime. I then felt compelled to give a short talk on abstinence from uttering bad words. “Shame on all those who use filthy language,” I launched into the tirade, “The words you use show your culture. If you use such words, it shows that you are uncivilized (they had just learnt that word) Such small children, using such bad words…!.” I couldn’t complete the scolding. Aditya bobbed up like a @#*!@# Jack-in-the-box asking(shouting), “WHEN WE GROW OLDER CAN WE USE BAD WORDS, Ma’am?” It took a while for me to untie my tongue and put it back into my big mouth which was already occupied by my foot - shoe, stocking and all.
Logic is supreme for these children. If the masculine gender for mistress is master then the masculine for Countess should be Counter. And a female monk should be monkey??
There are so many more enlightening experiences that happen in that room. I need to jot them down before they slip from my mind. But then I am too preoccupied in experiencing those experiences
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Strike that Ass and Where's your Butt?
"John has only two balls," the teacher said, trying not to blush.
She was not discussing the strange need of the adequately equipped John to be superhumanly endowed.
That was an English teacher giving an exercise in the use of although. (Although John had only two balls, he gave them both to his brothers.)
And that teacher was me.
I can see the textbook- makers chuckling as they write such sentences for the poor teacher to handle in a class of thirty boys and girls.
Perhaps it isn't the textbook makers who are the villains.
Language has changed so much that unless you are alert, your words may sound suspicious. The fall of a word from innocent to obscene gives rise to unintended vulgarity and giggles in the class. A teacher has to step cautiously around formerly clean words like gay, come, bush, hole, pussy, D... ... you know. Besides the media, the songs and writing to which the adoloscents are exposed promote the new, not-so-clean meaning rather than the original.
Teachers of old had to only mind their language. Now even gestures convey multiple meanings.When I taught my daughter in class twelve, one day she came home embarassed and told me not to show my finger at the class. You see, I'd had this habit of counting out points on my fingers. I never noticed that a finger stayed up as I waxed eloquent on a particular point!
Every generation of students has a teacher who organises 'kiss contests'. But the GK teacher in my staffroom created an 'earthcake' when he threatened to screw the students who didn't perform well in the 'kiss'. Of course, what he meant was that he would put pressure on them to do well.
Sometimes you realise, too late, how your instructions sounded in class. After assigning tasks, I would ask my students to 'do it silently' or 'do it together' or worse, 'do it with your partner'.
The worst was yet to come as I smiled wisely and advised, "Keep doing it till you get it right." And then there were snorts that just couldn't be suppressed. That's when I wanted the earth to split open and swallow me up.
I thought I'd learnt never to put my foot in my mouth ever again.
But yesterday I blanched to hear myself say to the eleventh standard student -
" Strike that 'as' and where's your 'but'?"
She was not discussing the strange need of the adequately equipped John to be superhumanly endowed.
That was an English teacher giving an exercise in the use of although. (Although John had only two balls, he gave them both to his brothers.)
And that teacher was me.
I can see the textbook- makers chuckling as they write such sentences for the poor teacher to handle in a class of thirty boys and girls.
Perhaps it isn't the textbook makers who are the villains.
Language has changed so much that unless you are alert, your words may sound suspicious. The fall of a word from innocent to obscene gives rise to unintended vulgarity and giggles in the class. A teacher has to step cautiously around formerly clean words like gay, come, bush, hole, pussy, D... ... you know. Besides the media, the songs and writing to which the adoloscents are exposed promote the new, not-so-clean meaning rather than the original.
Teachers of old had to only mind their language. Now even gestures convey multiple meanings.When I taught my daughter in class twelve, one day she came home embarassed and told me not to show my finger at the class. You see, I'd had this habit of counting out points on my fingers. I never noticed that a finger stayed up as I waxed eloquent on a particular point!
Every generation of students has a teacher who organises 'kiss contests'. But the GK teacher in my staffroom created an 'earthcake' when he threatened to screw the students who didn't perform well in the 'kiss'. Of course, what he meant was that he would put pressure on them to do well.
Sometimes you realise, too late, how your instructions sounded in class. After assigning tasks, I would ask my students to 'do it silently' or 'do it together' or worse, 'do it with your partner'.
The worst was yet to come as I smiled wisely and advised, "Keep doing it till you get it right." And then there were snorts that just couldn't be suppressed. That's when I wanted the earth to split open and swallow me up.
I thought I'd learnt never to put my foot in my mouth ever again.
But yesterday I blanched to hear myself say to the eleventh standard student -
" Strike that 'as' and where's your 'but'?"
Monday, April 28, 2008
Teacher As Leader
I was at this workshop on Teachers as Leaders - Beyond the Curriculum. There were about 300 teachers from different Indian schools.
Instead of going ahead with the workshop, there was a needless inaugural ceremony with several speakers. Thankfully the speeches were short and not too bad, except for the host school principal whose pronunciation was bad and style was atrocious. She thanked the 'cheerman' for organising the event. She valued the 'apawrchoonty' to get away from the 'moondane' into the magical and she was sure that she would have 'good mammaries' (of the talk) that everyone would go to and go back to... Albeit the embarrassment, it lightened things for me ,the eternal fault finder.
Some teachers of the host school then sang a song (shudder). It had been penned by one of those poor souls (probably forced to do so). Teachers are pathetic creatures, expected to be clerk, mother, counsellor, policeman, spy, choreographer, editor, songwriter, and much more.
The content of the workshop was not new, but the perspective was. The resource person, who vaguely resembled one of my back seat boys made us do this mind exercise which actually blew my mind. Besides, the introspection that followed the session uncovered several shortcomings that I had closed my eyes to. Of course my friends and I did pass notes and giggle at the nonsense responses of several teachers. But it was a holiday well spent.
Few agreed with me though. Some delegates felt that crowded classrooms, absent infrastructure, profit oriented management, overworked(and underpaid) teachers are not really conducive to teaching, let alone 'transforming the students by creating magic in the class'. The majority found the day a waste because they could have spent it at home(doing what? cooking?), because it was boring and most because the tea was bad and lunch was worse!
Later pondering on the teaching profession, the words of Malvolio (Shakespeare's Twelfth Night) came to mind. "Some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them. Teachers seem like the fool Malvolio - bearing the cross of nobility that is thrust upon them... because people love to hate teachers - students write nasty remarks about them on orkut, the parents criticise them.. Teachers can't demand or protest because they are 'noble'. It is sad but true that schools have become 'teaching shops' and society refuses to respect individuals who trod the path not taken. Parents still force children to learn subjects that they have no aptitude for or interest in. As long as this scenario prevails, teachers are destined to be leaders in the confines of a cage.
Despite these dismal thoughts I am happy I chose to be a teacher. I am so glad I didn't have to work in a bank or something, counting currency endlessly. What can be more rewarding than staying young at heart, being surrounded by youthful energy, learning something new each day?!
Instead of going ahead with the workshop, there was a needless inaugural ceremony with several speakers. Thankfully the speeches were short and not too bad, except for the host school principal whose pronunciation was bad and style was atrocious. She thanked the 'cheerman' for organising the event. She valued the 'apawrchoonty' to get away from the 'moondane' into the magical and she was sure that she would have 'good mammaries' (of the talk) that everyone would go to and go back to... Albeit the embarrassment, it lightened things for me ,the eternal fault finder.
Some teachers of the host school then sang a song (shudder). It had been penned by one of those poor souls (probably forced to do so). Teachers are pathetic creatures, expected to be clerk, mother, counsellor, policeman, spy, choreographer, editor, songwriter, and much more.
The content of the workshop was not new, but the perspective was. The resource person, who vaguely resembled one of my back seat boys made us do this mind exercise which actually blew my mind. Besides, the introspection that followed the session uncovered several shortcomings that I had closed my eyes to. Of course my friends and I did pass notes and giggle at the nonsense responses of several teachers. But it was a holiday well spent.
Few agreed with me though. Some delegates felt that crowded classrooms, absent infrastructure, profit oriented management, overworked(and underpaid) teachers are not really conducive to teaching, let alone 'transforming the students by creating magic in the class'. The majority found the day a waste because they could have spent it at home(doing what? cooking?), because it was boring and most because the tea was bad and lunch was worse!
Later pondering on the teaching profession, the words of Malvolio (Shakespeare's Twelfth Night) came to mind. "Some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them. Teachers seem like the fool Malvolio - bearing the cross of nobility that is thrust upon them... because people love to hate teachers - students write nasty remarks about them on orkut, the parents criticise them.. Teachers can't demand or protest because they are 'noble'. It is sad but true that schools have become 'teaching shops' and society refuses to respect individuals who trod the path not taken. Parents still force children to learn subjects that they have no aptitude for or interest in. As long as this scenario prevails, teachers are destined to be leaders in the confines of a cage.
Despite these dismal thoughts I am happy I chose to be a teacher. I am so glad I didn't have to work in a bank or something, counting currency endlessly. What can be more rewarding than staying young at heart, being surrounded by youthful energy, learning something new each day?!
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