Where are the teachers?

My eleven-year-old got me thinking this morning. It’s a Sunday but since she had a whole day of fun and enjoyment yesterday, I asked her to stop lounging about on the couch in the morning and start tackling a few concepts in science. I wanted her to list out things she had trouble with so we could learn more about them. She wasn’t exactly pleased to be ousted from the couch but she did do as I asked. While looking through her lessons, she started reciting her litany of complaints. The science teacher didn’t know squat. She yelled too much. She targeted children who asked questions. Her spellings were awful. Now I had heard some complaints about the social studies teacher as well – someone who kept saying a century meant ten years – which for a little kid is quite an eye-opener in terms of comprehending that the teacher actually made too many mistakes. I can see how disillusioned she is and how little respect she holds for a few teachers and that is truly sad.

My daughter is smart but her interest in any subject is totally dependent on the teacher who is in charge of it. I told her that she has the entire internet at her disposal. Learning can be so much more fun than the way we did it when I was a kid. So what if she didn’t have the best teachers? In her previous school she had equally incompetent teachers at twice the fees – how did it make a difference? She had her parents – S is a math whiz and I love English to the point of distraction – so why couldn’t she just ask us? That level of initiative was missing. She had to want to know things. She needed to learn how to pick up things on her own. She needed to enjoy learning.

Teachers migrate from one school to another for the salary. Yes it’s a tough job but it is also an important one. If you do not have the knowledge or ability to teach, you end up leaving the impression that teachers as a whole are a bunch of idiots who get into a cushy job for the vacation timings or simply because their child too goes to the same school and that makes things convenient. Teachers should be tested and certified every year – the kind of ignorance that is rampant among the teaching fraternity is an insult to the society as a whole. It happens because they are not questioned.

I have met a number of teachers in recent years who make me want to actually indulge in violence. I get circulars that are so full of errors I cannot make head or tail out of them. I have seen teachers who not only don’t know their subjects and sent their own kids for tuitions on the subjects they majored in but also hold regressive opinions which they foist on their students. I have seen many notebooks corrected wrongly so that I have to spend hours teaching my daughter that what was marked correct was in fact wrong. I have seen teachers using abusive language but have been powerless to intervene because the concerned parents were keeping quiet. I have seen parents suck up to teachers so that they have better grades than the rest. I have seen parents remember the teachers’ birthdays and send cakes to make that great impression.

If all of that is the hallmark of a good parent, then I obviously suck because I don’t know my daughters’ teachers by name nor do I ever compliment them on their appearance. For every meeting, I ask how she is doing and whether anything more is required of me as a parent. I am in and out of PTAs in 5 minutes. I don’t send my children for tuitions because teaching them is something I like doing (on some days ;))and it is a personal choice that I can indulge in now. Also tuitions are a way of making extra money for the same teachers who aren’t doing their job well at school. Of course there are a few teachers who are so good that just interacting with them is a pleasure but they are a minority.

The sad part of dealing with teachers who hate teaching is that its an utter waste of the child’s time. Imagine how wonderful it would be to awaken a child’s curiosity and illuminate her mind. The spark of dawning understanding is pure joy to witness. Teachers hold the future of a generation in their hands. Our former president Kalam was a fine teacher – one who believed in every child’s potential. As long as we look at teaching as just another job, we will never have truly inspired teachers and that is a damn shame.

Mirroring values

I have often wondered how the measure of a man or woman changes when that which we believed about them is shattered. I do not talk of expectations or perfectly flawless behavior towards us and us alone. I was thinking rather of how there are things that should be counted as components of character but these days are simply forgotten. If someone you are close to has a friend or loved one who makes no bones about being prejudiced about the colour of the skin, about holding views that are appallingly backward about women for someone supposedly educated, about thinking children who come from less than illustrious backgrounds or with difficulties cannot be in a classroom with other kids; how would you deal with the situation?

Is there no need to stand by a principle these days? You say you are not prejudiced and someone you glorify ill-treats others but not you and you are okay with that? How does that make sense I wonder? If the world had applauded and rewarded a South Africa that was promoting apartheid but that was always unfailingly polite otherwise, would that have been right? If you are not directly hurt by the venom of someone you choose to love, is it then alright to watch the subject of it getting hurt? A subject whom you had befriended?

There is no justice in most things in life. But of one thing I am certain - if a person I was close to uttered anything prejudicial about another friend, I would have stood up and defended the friend who was being judged. I would have lost a certain amount of respect for that person because prejudice is inexcusable. I would probably never look at that person the same way again. So even if you do not actually hurt someone yet stand and watch someone over whom you have influence hurt someone and do nothing, then you at some level are responsible for that hurt. If you put up with it, there is a part of you that agrees with that action. For if you do not agree, if you feel strongly against it, you cannot remain silent – you would speak out.

I am however blessed with a spouse and friends who are generous and broad-minded and thankfully have had only a few such bad experiences. There was one person whom I thought of as a friend who I found out had no compunction in tolerating anything as long as there was no direct consequence. There is no easier way to lose my trust. Not standing up for what is right shows superficiality of character. They who are happy with trappings and the ability to be distracted can get by in life very easily. And the sad thing is that this person epitomizes most of the well-off people I come across.  Have fun, enjoy life – ignore the difficulties of others and revel over your superiority because hell, you have the money!

Its simple really. If you have a friend who is sincere, they will not let someone else trash you or your work or your beliefs. They will not cultivate that relationship once the mask of civility has been lowered even for a split-second. The friends you have are a reflection of you when it comes to core values. If they aren’t, then you will learn the hard way that they really weren’t friends.

Such is life.

I went for a walk in the night. It was drizzling and chilly. I didn’t care. I walked because I wanted to cool down. I walked because I needed the fresh air to ease the burning ache. I walked because when you walk in the rain, no one can see your tears. I don’t know to solve that which is always before me. I have a few days where I can smile and laugh with my heart light and far enough from pain that I actually feel happy. But the rest of the days I just try to cope. There will always be a meltdown or an episode where my child is in a world of pain without a trigger of any kind. I am always on guard. I can never relax. My shoulders feel like they are so wound up they can never unwind. People tell me to chill. To take it easy. Yeah right. There is no easy for me or my son. Walking doesn’t change anything but it loosens some of the more painful knots so I can gulp in mouthfuls of air and remind myself that despite the terrible feeling inside, I am alive.

I came back and sat in the midst of people talking and laughing with no one knowing that all I wanted to do at that point was curl into a ball and try to keep that agonizing hurt under control. The hardest part is the need to put up a façade of cheerfulness. No one likes a sad face. Many would not understand why I am yet unused to these episodes. They will merely say – well you knew this might happen right – all you can do is deal with it. Its true – after so many years perhaps I should be used to it. I should be inured to pain. But I am not. With considerable effort I brought myself back to whatever conversation everyone was having and went on with my evening.

Such is life. No matter how hard I try, I cannot protect my son. I have to sit and watch as he goes through things that no one should have to go through. I cannot help. I am merely a useless witness. If there was some way I could take on the pain that my child lives through so uncomplainingly, I would. But then that is why there is no God – I cannot even for a moment make his life easier when he needs my help the most. I simply watch. I have to be brave. I can’t lose it. I cannot even cry. Such is life.

Self-Entitlement

How many of you have had to work really hard for the things you wanted, even for things you needed? How many of you have felt the frustration of being almost there but not quite? How many of you have felt the terror that comes from the very real possibility that you may lose everything? I am sure many of you have at some time or the other gone through at least one of these scenarios as have I. I am also sure that there are a few who have been able to skim through life on browse mode – never really working hard or meaningfully but coasting along on someone’s luck or compassion for ineptitude. It is possible to live like that – to live as if the world owes you something for your mere existence. 

The idea of self-confidence is something that I believe in. It is great to respect yourself enough so that no one takes you for granted or undervalues you. There is a thin line between confidence and an almost delusional sense of arrogance though. If, because of luck or hard work, you have gained an enviable position in society, confidence is natural. If, however, this very confidence makes you think that you are better than everyone else and deserve to be treated special even when you aren’t doing a thing to earn it, then that is a really quick way to annoy those around you. Even worse are the characters who have always sought excuses for not making it in life. They find ways to be victims. They find faults in everything and everyone other than themselves. They think it is everyone else’s sworn duty to help them. They think that their mere existence entitles them to certain benefits. It is amazing how merit is never in the picture for the self-entitled.

In my line of work and in my personal life I have met a few people I wish I had not come across. In my centre, my partner and I have come across people who are indefatigably helpful and inspiring but we have also known those who come to us and do nothing productive to help the kids. They range from the rare parents who cannot see other special needs kids in roughly the same boat as their kids with even a smidgeon of empathy or compassion to others who wish us to help them in every possible way while themselves doing absolutely nothing to help even their own child. It has made me burn with anger time and again. Is it so hard to open your heart up to help your own child ? Forget about helping other children – if you cannot support your own child who so badly needs unflinching acceptance, then really what is the point?

I also get upset when I find time in life to run a school, take classes, take care of a house, make killer meals, deal with my son who needs that extra help, make sure I don’t neglect my daughter, write, help my husband in his project work as an independent consultant and exercise every single day come rain or shine and I am faced with people who say “Well I tried and it’s not happening. You didn’t help me enough. You didn’t hold my hand. Yes you can do all of that but so what, everyone can’t be like you! You need to do more for me – I am entitled.” I get angry – hell I am angry – I am done trying to help and I am so done expecting even a modicum of courtesy and decency from people who have taken complete advantage of my nature.

If there is a God in heaven, and believe me there are many days when I know there is no such presence, if there is justice in earth or heaven, if there is any meaning to life at all, then the self-entitled would be given short shrift every step of their miserable lives so those who know the value of working hard are left in peace. This life is not easy for many people and while I am not asking for help, I hope that those who choose to be unhelpful can at least refrain from making things more difficult. Have a heart for crying out loud…  

Never enough time

Walking always makes my thoughts flow. Today I found myself thinking of time itself as I walked in the cool moonlight enjoying the scents of frangipani and jasmine borne by the crisp breeze. All people had the same amount of time in a day and yet they seemed to use it differently. During the years I had stayed at home confined within the four walls of a house, time seemed to move slowly and there appeared to be so much of it. Later when I worked in a corporate set-up, there appeared to be time for nothing – no time to look after the kids, no time to de-stress after a long day, no time to keep in touch with friends. Then came a period where I had work and fun enough to feel content. I had friends – new and old. I had passion for what I was working on. I also had time for everything I wanted to have time for while keeping busy. So time appears differently to different people and even to the same person at different points in their lives. Nothing about time appears to be absolute.

Why then did some people never seem to find time for those they supposedly cared about? Everyone has loads of time to spare when they enjoy your company or share your passion about something. As time passes however and novelty fades, they don’t seem to want to spend time keeping in touch. I understand that priorities change and of course everyone is in pursuit of money and success. I work hard too but I make time for all the friends in my life because they enrich my life. They all know that they can call me anytime if they need to and I would try to cheer them up or simply listen to some rant that needed an outlet. I reach out to friends often just to feel comforted at the end of a really tough day. If you cannot share your little victories and painful defeats with those you care about, then what is it that you can share? I would rather not talk of the weather or what I had for lunch or what movie I watched if there is something I wish to unburden myself of. But if one does not keep in touch in the true sense of the word then all there is to talk about is the superficial and not the meaningful. And superficial relationships are not anything that I can ever invest time in.

When is the last time you called a friend you deeply cared about at some point in your life? When did you last take the first step in mending fences? When did you last cuddle with the kids under the quilt on a lazy Sunday morning or late at night just because they just wanted to feel that warmth? There will always be more 'important' things to do in life than spend time with someone you supposedly love but assume will be around always until the day comes when they aren't...

 My priorities are my family, friends and my centre– I don’t make much money  but money was never my top priority – doing what needed to be done was. Does single-minded obsession about keeping up with the Joneses dilute one’s interest in actual relationships? Is the mantra of making it big that important that you let friends fall by the wayside as you go marching on heedlessly? I wouldn’t know.

I do know one thing however. No one likes waiting around endlessly. Time is the biggest gift you can share with someone – not money and certainly not empty words. If you do not have time for someone, it is far better to state that openly than try to keep things alive as some kind of weird backup plan. Keeping someone hanging in case they can be of some use is quite an insult. If you really are that busy, then get used to losing people who once cared. You probably will get where you wanted to go and you will also lose a part of yourself. Time may be money but all the money in the world will not buy you one moment of time...

Give them wings...

The other day, a friend of S’s drops by at home with his wife. They have been out looking at houses because they liked the complex we lived in. The man waxed eloquent about the beauty of the property while the wife said it looked too quiet. She liked being in the middle of noise and hubbub. S was away travelling so I listened politely to their dissensions on the subject of the house. Over tea I asked them why they needed a house in Bangalore when they lived in Dubai. Moreover, they already owned a flat in a posh area of Bangalore so why the urgency?

Then the floodgates opened and they started talking about their only son who was about 19 or 20. He was smart and did well in academics. He got placed in a college in Canada but his mother didn’t want him to leave to a faraway land. Dubai boasts of no higher education prospects so he would have to leave his mother anyway but she wanted some closer option. He got through to REC Calicut which is arguably one of the best engineering institutions in the country. I was suitably impressed. The youngster seemed well set on his way to a good future.

Now the complaints started. REC was not colourful. Nothing happened there. The students were there to study. Where was the fun in college life? His mother chimed in with complaints about the furniture being boring and seemed appalled that he had to share a room with others. I began to understand the nature of their issues. At first I tried to speak with a measure of patience. I told them I had studied in REC Calicut and found it a great experience. I had been in hostels for 8 years. It taught me independence. As for the furniture, that was not really a problem for me – I had better things to do than check the interior décor. We tried making the best of what we had as students. We would put up lanterns or flowers or posters and brighten up our rooms. The convent where I stayed for five years did not have fans in the rooms. Bear in mind that I am talking of a tropical state like Kerala – so while it wasn’t always easy, it was never that hard either.

The benefit of living in a hostel is that you gain the ability to adjust. You try not to read into people by external appearance alone. You hear different viewpoints from those you have been exposed to in your sheltered existence. You learn how to make do with the limited money (at least in most of our cases) that you are allowed a month. You learn the joy of making friends. You read endlessly and find people who share your interests so you stay up all night debating or listening to music or having mad midnight snack parties. 

As the couple continued to talk I realized that they weren’t asking for an opinion. They had already decided to move their son out of the prestigious REC to a private college in Bangalore so he could live it up. They simply wanted to appear to be debating the issue. They were looking for a house to use as a weekend home. The youngster felt that he was no longer a winner the way he was in Dubai. In REC he was not the best, there were too many ahead of him in the game and he wasn’t getting noticed. He wanted to win – he wasn’t used to losing and therefore his parents were running helter-skelter to ensure that his every wish was granted.

I smiled to myself. If you have problems run to mommy. If you cannot work hard enough to be a winner, find a place filled with the mediocre so that you will look like a winner. Fun should be your top priority and if you cannot get a job, well then what’s daddy’s money for anyway? An intelligent young man chooses the easy way out. His parents enable behaviour that is designed to make him less than he needs to be. Did they plan to be immortal? What would he do when he faced one of the many setbacks that is part of life?

It is rather sad that so many youngsters are taught to take the easy route. Parents cast a wide and heavy safety net so that their kids never learn to be independent. I look around at my boys in the autism centre. They overcome unbelievable difficulties just to sit and work. They may never have a chance at an independent life. Their parents will never rest easy. And then I look at all those privileged young men and women who have but to say the word and their doting parents scramble to give it to them on a silver plate. Why are we creating an entire generation that does not know the value of hard work? Why are we teaching our children to be passive? I think it’s time parents take a good look at themselves and see how their all-encompassing cosseting love is keeping their children from growing to their full potential. Else we will be stuck with a generation of whiners.

For the love of money...

I haven’t written in a while. It’s not because I don’t have anything to write about. Rather, I appeared to have too many things on my mind for me to write about any one idea coherently.So today I write about money and the lessons learnt on account of having it and not having it. Life is not only about lessons learnt, it is mostly about how you apply those lessons. I was thinking of the years long ago when my husband was heading a company at the age of 32. We both had attitude. We knew there was money. There was respect. We never had to think twice outside our own bubble of comfort. We never partied or splurged in the conventional sense because our son had a tough time with noise and crowds when he was little. But we also did not save money because we were rather too cocky for our own good.

Fast forward to a few years ahead with most of our savings invested in our own venture. We learnt the value of a rupee in a very real sense. We didn’t shop unnecessarily. We didn’t change our car because it was 3 years old. We didn’t change the furniture that the kids had gleefully left their imprint on. We took the bus to work. We learnt to reuse. We also learnt to manage our finances in a more intelligent form. Of course we were still under the delusion that a few years of this struggle would see our path would become thorn-free again.

Move the timeline again to the recent past and cast the spotlight on what was arguably one of the toughest years I have ever encountered. It tested me mentally and physically in ways I cannot describe. It changed me irrevocably in a way my normal little mistakes in trusting people hadn’t. The lessons I have learnt now have a lot to do with understanding the role of money in life. People give too much importance to money and not in the right manner. I know better than most people around me the value of monetary security but I don’t need money in the way these very same people need it. I don’t need it to prove a point. After this past year, I can now feel gratitude for having the strength to tide over difficult phases. I am not praying for an easy life. I only pray for the courage to face anything head on and to never say no to a challenge. Life can take whatever turns it wants – I have the lessons I need to survive.

Money is terribly important I agree but when it turns out that it is a means of discrimination instead of upliftment; I wonder where the rapacious greed rampant in the world around us will take us eventually. Use money wisely but don’t let it rule you so that it defines who you are. Let your humanity define you. Let people matter more than what they can pay you. Let the change you bring about be the legacy that speaks for you.