online courses

Lessons I Learnt Outside the Classroom

Online courses supplemented my personal desire for learning things which institutional education could not provide.

I grew up in Mathura in the early 1990s. After some deliberation and community support, I was enrolled in the only convent school in town. Some of my neighbour’s children went to the government school where my mother taught. I would attend her classes sometimes, and it was there when I first became aware of social segregation.

We moved to Gujarat at the start of the new millennium. The state provided free higher education for the girl child – a much needed financial respite for a family with two daughters.

When the 2000s got hailed as the start of a new liberal India, I too found myself excited about being liberated. I was now in a modern city, in a bigger house, and even though I was being constantly bullied for being an outsider, I was happy. I had access to dial-up internet and I could talk to my friends day and night; sometimes, even to strangers from the other side of the world.

Life felt quite wholesome, and I was in love with my life as a teenager.

But then high school unleashed a weird hormone monster in all of us. I don’t know how we all became these insecure beasts full of reactive power. We secluded ourselves into cliques and slowly turned into political adults. Everyone applied for colleges based on their immediate group’s choices – which often had to do with their financial means. Ultimately, we all took a decision and went our own way, accepting that higher education would shape the rest of our lives.

For me, graduation meant a government engineering college in Gandhinagar. I found myself enrolled in an institute where we called a piece of land with square buildings ‘campus’ and professors chosen by the local political goons ‘faculty’. Not to say it was not good education, but I mention this just to put into perspective for some readers as to how institutional education really operates in India.

Also read: A Former Teach for India Fellow on the ‘Overambitious’ New Education Policy

Otherwise, being in a government college was incredibly educational. My batchmates were people from some of the remotest parts of the state and I lived with them in a girl’s PG because it had fewer restrictions than the government hostel did. We taught each other subjects before examinations and learnt a lot more from just being there for each other.

When our campus got boundary walls and WiFi in our third year, life completely changed. With access to the internet, we were now connected to multiple campuses – not just in the state, but around the globe. And for a campus full of engineering students, that was wild.

We were now not just pursuing formal education in our classrooms but learning whatever we wanted to online. The tragic death of Aaron Swartz in 2013 also brought us the global movement for open access. Internet nerds have since unequivocally rallied behind the need to keep educational resources in the public domain.

After graduation, people took up jobs or decided to study further. Many got married. But everyone now had access to free online courses, which changed our entire approach to higher education. People were enrolling in distance learning courses in subjects they never had access to previously.

This dramatically improved people’s chances of getting a job and a better income. It also provided choices they did not have before.

Also read: COVID-19: On Missing the Warmth of Campus Life

I definitely benefited a lot from this. Online courses supplemented my personal desire for learning things which institutional education could not provide.

However, over the years, it has also meant that apart from the opportunities offered exclusively at campuses, we have to compete openly in the global job market where there is always a preference for people who come from a robust institutional background – even if one claims to be of the same skill through alternative education. And there is an invisible but powerful pushback to this sort of equality, which Swartz was not alone in experiencing.

Simultaneously, over the past decade, Indians have felt so starved for representation on an international stage that we let anyone wield the mantle in the name of ‘diaspora’. So here we were with an Indian ‘diaspora’ fleeing neither persecution nor poverty but who are simply unwilling to live in a developing country. Many Indians who graduated from reputed institutions abroad are dramatically disconnected from Indian reality, but are determining what it means to be Indian. And it breaks my heart when I see these qualified individuals sharing images of a tacky billboard in Time Square from their social handles, as if it were a moment of triumph for India, celebrating the bloody history of a city they have never lived in or will never visit. I cannot feel more distanced from their idea of India than this moment in our history.

Every day, I discover something new about this game of selection and elimination in our education systems and how it has affected different people differently in our society. Still, I am glad that we can talk about it online. I am glad that even if I do not have the impressive letters of an outstanding collegiate affiliation in my bio – people are listening.

But as internet sanctions are being used to silence people in the country, a ‘new’ education policy is also being introduced.

We must acknowledge that the internet is a powerful alternative to institutional education. As we look to the future, we must consider our past and accept that institutions have not been the champions of the people that they were expected to be. Their students are not well informed about the barriers that most of us face in Indian society, yet they hold the positions of power with the tools to create change.

So maybe we must consider the lessons we learn outside the classroom and redefine what we understand of ‘education’.

Sumedha writes to highlight the need for non-conformity and for practical politics free of labels. She is also a certified cat lady.

Featured image credit: robbyj/Unsplash

To No One’s Surprise, Online Schooling Has Started Taking a Psychological Toll on Students

Meaningful education has nothing to do with finishing the syllabus and burdening children with long hours in front of screens.

The COVID-19 outbreak and the subsequent lockdown resulted in the closure of schools nationwide. As a result, the Indian school system shifted away from traditional classrooms to a digital platform.

This unplanned and rapid move towards online education has alienated a large number of ‘digital have nots’ from virtual classrooms.

Only a handful number of fortunate children are availing online education as only 24% households in India possess smartphones and 11.5% of the households, that have children of between the ages of 5 and 18, have a computer with an internet connection. However, from the first week of April, the lives of all these children have temporarily ‘shrunk to just their homes and screens’.

What is their story? Are they happy with this new arrangement? The answer lies in how learning at home is being conducted by each school and in each family.

To capture the experience of children between the ages of 5 and 18 who are currently pursuing online education, a virtual survey was conducted between Friday, May 15 and Sunday, May 17, 2020. A questionnaire containing close to 40 questions was circulated via WhatsApp and email. Responses have been received from 155 students across 13 states – Assam, Bihar, Delhi, Haryana, Jharkhand, Karnataka, Maharashtra, Manipur, Odisha, Rajasthan, Telangana, Uttar Pradesh, and West Bengal on a random basis.

A summary of the surveyed children

An overwhelming number of responses were from private school-goers as 87.2% of the surveyed children are studying in private-run schools and only 12.8% of students were either from Centre and state-run government schools or government-aided schools. The survey received responses from children from every grade starting from grade I to grade XII. The distribution showed that 27% were studying at the primary level (I-V), 33% were at upper primary level (VI-VII), 21% were at the secondary level (IX-X) and 19% from the senior secondary level (XI-XII).

Also read: Lockdown Schooling Is No Substitute for Education

In most of the cases, classes were taking place five days a week and, to attend these classes, students were using a range of devices. However, smartphones and computers were mostly being used as about 54.3% of students were pursuing classes through smartphones and another 40% were using laptops and desktops. The remaining 6% were either using tabs or iPads and smartphones alternatively depending on the availability of the devices.

About 47 % of the surveyed children reported that they were enjoying online classes. The reasons for their preference for online classes are not only diverse but rather intriguing as well. The most cited reason was the ability to concentrate better in comparison to regular classes in schools. Besides, many of them found the opportunity to revisit lectures and notes even after classes beneficial as it has made their learning relatively easier.

However, the other reasons for their fondness for virtual classrooms have nothing to do with learning. No reprimands from teachers, no getting up early in the morning to prepare for school and options for completing assignments at a time of one’s convenience emerged as some of the most appealing features of virtual classes. For some students, the opportunity to stay at home with family and pets was the most lucrative aspect of online classes. Interestingly, a large number of students also reported that the freedom to do any other thing even whilst classes were on was the primary appeal behind online classes.

Things are not always what they seem

The survey shows that students who had reported attending online classes were not present for it every day or were not attending all the classes in any given day. The reason for this low attendance was lack of access to devices or the internet. Three-fourth of the respondents (73%) were using devices that belonged to their parents or someone else in the family, though a majority of them had access to it as long as they wanted.

However, 23% of students said that they couldn’t use the device for the entire day to attend all the classes. Because of a single device in the household, they either needed to share it with their parents or with their siblings who were also attending online classes. A number of students complained that they didn’t get the time to even recharge the battery of the phone due to the long duration of classes. Poor connectivity was a common challenge for almost all students surveyed.

The survey also reveals the associated costs of online classes. About 11% of students reported that it was difficult for them to attend all the classes with a limited data package plan on their phones. Otherwise, they needed to frequently recharge their phone which was an additional financial burden for the family.

Also read: Lockdown Is Disrupting a Generation’s Education. What Can Be Done?

The other factor having a substantial cost implication for students was study materials. Due to the sudden closure of schools, 49% of the surveyed students did not receive new textbooks from schools. As classes continue, many students are having to make do with class notes, online books and print-outs of materials suggested by teachers. Teachers are also increasingly assigning cost-intensive projects. Hence, there is an additional expenditure on account of printing resource materials.

Education is serious business!

Teachers are often oblivious of the potential of a class as a source of relaxation and rejuvenation. Thus, only 27% of students were lucky enough to have fun or activity related classes and assignments from their teachers every day. While 32% of children got this chance once in a week, for 41% of students’ classes simply comprised an exchange of lectures and assignments between teachers and students.

Many schools are organising back-to-back classes like any regular school day routine. Around 60% of students, on a daily basis, attended a minimum of four periods and 19% among them attended more than five periods. As the duration of a period in most of the cases is 40-45 minutes, the majority of students spend around 3-4 hours every day on an average attending online classes; 31% students shared that they didn’t get any break between periods. As a result, students find it tedious and are getting exhausted soon.

Furthermore, many teachers are trying to complete the syllabus through whichever means possible and are also giving assignments on a daily basis, which is much more than the homework given during regular school days, as some students revealed. Among the respondents, 83% said that they get some form of homework and assignments every day. For 40% of students, it takes, on an average one hour, for 35% of students, two hours, and for the rest, it takes three hours and above to complete these assignments.

Representative image. Photo: Flickr/Barry Pousman (CC BY 2.0)

Learning beyond school

Study hours do not stop here for these kids. In this new age of education, sole dependence on schools for learning is a rare event. Along with mainstream schooling, taking private tuitions is a common characteristic of the Indian education system, particularly in the eastern states of India. Children take private tuitions at home or at coaching centres; from a single tutor or more, individually or in a group.

Also read: Rethinking Education in the Age of the Coronavirus

As movements are restricted, private tutors are also taking classes online mostly through video and audio lectures. Our survey shows that 45% of the respondents are taking online private tuitions and many of them need to devote substantial amount of time everyday taking classes from private tutors and completing assignments given by them. The survey found that 47% of students spend 7 hours on an average in a week on private tuitions, 27% spend 14 hours and 16% spend 21 hours. Combining both online schooling and private tuitions and also working on the assignments given by school teachers as well as private tutors, on an average, the surveyed students were being subjected to minimum screen time of 5 hours and maximum screen time of 10 hours in a day.

Technology is not always fun

While the child’s learning progress may be the most obvious victim of the school’s closure, it is by no means the only thing at risk. The sudden increase in screen times and back to back classes has put many children at health risks. About one-fourth of the respondents complained of frequent headache, eye-related problems and back pain. As 45% of students always use headphones for listening to class lectures and 27% use it on and off, many students also reported developing hearing problems and neck and shoulder pain.

Furthermore, some students did not get any summer vacation from their schools this year. While for most of the summer breaks started from mid-May, 28% students said, they didn’t know when they were going to have vacations as there was no communication regarding this from their schools till May 17, the date of this survey. The decision of cancelling or shortening or advancing summer breaks in view of compensating for the so-called ‘learning hours loss’ is not only preposterous but also detrimental for the mental health of children.

How much is too much?

A study called ‘Adolescent Brain Cognitive Development’ showed that children whose screen time remains under two hours a day, who exercise at least 60 minutes a day and have between 9 and 11 hours of sleep at night are more likely to make better decisions and act less rashly than those who do not follow these restrictions.

Unfortunately, neither the Ministry of Human Resource Development (MHRD) nor state education departments had prepared any guidelines and regulations regarding school hours etc. before putting forward a proposal for digital education. As a result, for the last three months, most of the schools have been following a flexible routine or continuing with the same school routine in place before the lockdown.

Also read: A Viral Education? Into the Future of Our Locked Classrooms and Shut Campuses

Recent media reports suggest that the MHRD is in the process of finalising guidelines on digital education for teachers, parents and students. As per the draft guidelines, there should not be more than two sessions of 20-45 minutes each, per day for elementary level and four sessions of 30-45 minutes for secondary and higher secondary level students. The rulebook also instructs for vacation period for students and teachers just like a normal school calendar.

No easy answer

Since we do not have similar experiences from the past to draw lessons from, coming up with effective solutions to address all the challenges is truly complex but critical. However, what is certain is that meaningful education has nothing to do with finishing the syllabus, burdening children with school hours, private tuition, homework and making them spend longer hours in front of screens.

It is encouraging that the government has eventually started working on policy and guidelines on the dos-and-don’ts of digital education. The next step should be to make the rules enforceable not only in government and government-aided schools, but also private schools.

The way online education and its associated lifestyle is affecting the physical and mental well-being of children, it would have a larger impact on a child’s life than the academic impact teachers and policymakers are hoping for. The question that both parents and policymakers should ask themselves and be able to answer is: “Is this the way they want our future generation to learn and grow?”

A concerted effort from parents, teachers and policymakers seems necessary to help children cope with the crisis and thrive in the post-COVID-19 world.

Protiva Kundu works with the Centre for Budget and Governance Accountability (CBGA). She can be reached at protiva@cbgaindia.org

In Tamil Nadu, There Are No Easy Answers for the Private School Fee Dilemma

While it is natural for the state government to do whatever it can to ease the burden on its citizens in these trying times, many private schools are staring at a bleak financial picture.

A dilemma of an unusual kind is playing out in Tamil Nadu. On the face of it, both sides of the divide have a point. Is there a middle path? If there isn’t one, it could very well spell disaster for the education system in the state.

The cause of the present dilemma – nay, the trouble – lies in the prolonged lockdown. With kids confined to homes, many private schools in the state have virtually run out of steam. With no visibility on the way forward, their sustainability has come under severe test.

For private schools, the situation has become more complicated on the financial front after the state government told them not to force-collect fees from parents of students. The chief educational officer of Chennai and other district-level officials have warned schools in their jurisdictions not to force parents to pay fees immediately. Chief minister Edappadi K. Palaniswami had even said that action would be taken if specific complaints were received about schools pressurising parents.

With the extended lockdown forcing everything to a halt, it is quite natural for the government to be seen as taking every measure to ease the pressure on its citizens in these trying times.

Also read: With Decision on Classes to Be Taken in July, Jharkhand Must Review Its School Reorganisation Policy

In a few states, there is also evidence that the economic effects of the pandemic has forced lower-income families to take their children out of private schools – the Punjab education department, for instance, set a new record by adding 1.65 lakh new admissions in government schools this year.

At the same time, this move has pushed many private schools into a corner. They are ‘non-aided’ in the sense that they get no government funding. The Tamil Nadu government’s diktat on fee collection, according to many well-known educationists, is a virtual death warrant against private schools. What’s worse is that this has encouraged even well-off families, who can afford to pay, to hold back from making any fee payments.

On the one hand, the state government insists on these private education institutions pay salaries to all their teaching and non-teaching staff. On the other hand, it warns them of action if they collect fees from students. The government may argue that it is only against forcible collection of fees during the pandemic – and not a blanket waiver per se – but this move may have opened up a Pandora’s Box with many parents holding back on payment. If schools are not allowed to collect even minimum fees, how can the state government expect private institutions to pay salaries?

Also read: Here’s How We Can Gear up to Open Schools After the Lockdown

The entire issue has now taken a legal turn with the Federations of Association of Private Schools in Tamil Nadu and others taking their case before the Madras high court.

Like many states, private schools are a dime-a-dozen in Tamil Nadu. They are of assorted categories – big, small, wealthy and not-so-wealthy. The marquee and big-brand institutions are formidable and have deep pockets and can afford to wait out the lockdown.

But smaller private institutions – and they too do their job by serving different niches – are the ones who could be hit very hard by this directive. And, these form a sizeable number in the state.

Also read: Is Social Distancing Feasible for a Majority of Schools in India?

How to carve a middle path?

The face-off between private institutions and the state government poses a number of questions. For instance, if the state government is really concerned about its citizens while ordering private schools not to collect fees, why hasn’t it done more to ease hardship and put money in the hands of its citizens by waiving utility bills? Electricity charges, water tax and the like, to name a few, are still being collected despite the lockdown situation.

In fact, state governments are looking to get their hands on revenue wherever they can find it. A case in point is the higher taxes on liquor levied by a number of states and union territories.

When the state government has not provided relief in this regard, should it be up to the private sector to do the same? No doubt, circumstances are very trying and there are good arguments to be made about the larger societal benefit in demanding that private schools temporarily stop or delay in collecting fees.

Yet, the diktat defies logic. Consider the issue of how institutions are expected to pay their teaching and non-teaching staff. Can the state government afford to not pay its public school teachers? Given the strong unionised nature of government-run schools, this is well nigh impossible and even risky for the ruling party even to contemplate. If that is the case for teaching staff in government schools, the same logic applies to teachers in private schools.

Also read: Lockdown Schooling Is No Substitute for Education

But they can be paid only if these unaided schools collect fees from their students. In Tamil Nadu, for instance, various estimates say that a significant number of private schools were able to pay only 50% salary to their staff over the last few months due to a cash crunch.

A workable way out of this dilemma should be within the realm of possibility even in these times. Often, political bosses take extreme positions in their game of one-upmanship, ignoring the consequences of such hasty actions on the overall education ecosystem. In recent years, this has become the norm with the Tamil Nadu government. It has the uncanny knack of getting into a Chakravyuh-like situations, but less experience on getting out of them.

K.T. Jagannathan is a senior business journalist based out of Chennai.

Here’s How We Can Gear up to Open Schools After the Lockdown

It is essential that teachers don’t rush into completing the syllabi and recognise the need for the emotional healing of students.

India announced a complete lockdown at the end of March 2020 in response to the global outbreak of the novel coronavirus. The announcement gave a mere four-hour notice for the impending lockdown.

Schools across the country were shut. While we’re still unaware as to when school will reopen, there are several notifications and guidelines from the authorities regarding the development of a truncated syllabus and instructions to children in primary classes to stay at home for a few more months.

Children of all social groups and classes are bombarded with messages about the danger of the coronavirus and, how they should remain indoors, even as we have been witnessing thousands of families walking home in the hot summer sun, crowded trains and buses and the most heart wrenching of all – hunger and hopelessness.

Families are thrown out by landlords because they cannot pay rent, employers firing their workers and domestic workers being treated as untouchables by the same people who depended on them for housework and child care. Teachers in small private schools have lost their jobs and contract teachers in government are afraid of being thrown out. Many of them have not been paid for several months. There have been reports of former teachers lining up for MGNREGA work.

India has not seen this kind of trauma since the painful cross-migration during Partition in 1947.

Children are traumatised, confused and not able to understand what is happening around them. Those from very poor families in both rural and urban areas have not only been cut off from learning processes but have been deprived of the mid-day meal which sustained many of them.

While the rich and the middle classes with access to computers and smart phones have access to online teaching from their schools, the vast majority of children, especially those studying in government schools and low-cost private schools, have no such opportunities. Therefore, it is quite ironic that a substantial portion of the discussions on education today are about online learning and the pros and cons of it. There little discussion or debate about the impact of school closures on the most marginalised and poor children.

Also read: Is Social Distancing Feasible for a Majority of Schools in India?

Sadly, not even the government or associated institutions like NCERT and SCERTs are talking about what they could do to ease the path back to school and address the trauma and fear among children. There is also very little thought on how rural schools are expected to cope with returning workers and their families.

Nor are these institutions showing any concern about the physical, mental and emotional state of children who have undergone the trauma of reverse migration from a metro city to their village or the painful journey, hunger and malnutrition they experienced. This is an illustration of how some groups are invisible in the process of decision-making, during, before or after a crisis.

What are the issues that merit urgent attention immediately after lockdown is withdrawn?

Children who would be returning to school and the children who will be enrolling afresh in rural schools need support – psychological and emotional – to enable them to get back into the rhythm of learning. Nandita Choudhry, an important voice in the area of child development, reminds us that some children may have experienced the illness or death of a family member, some may have lived with the reality or threat of displacement, and some have travelled hundreds of miles from cities from where they were rudely evicted. Even for those who may not have experienced any direct trauma or abuse, the lurking fear of the pandemic must have had a significant impact.

Without the capacity to fully grasp the situation and its outcomes, children have been impacted in direct and inconspicuous ways. Learning to live with fear and uncertainty and watching news reports with scenes beyond their comprehension, will have an impact on children of all ages. These are all issues that schools will need to handle as children leave their homes to return to school. It is the responsibility of school teachers and administrators to enact strategies to support children.

Therefore, schools need to plan for structured activities and interactions with children, ideally in small groups, to let them talk and express their pent up emotions and feelings. For this to happen, teachers need to be sensitised and trained to refrain from rushing into completing the curriculum or jumping straight into formal teaching. A considerable amount of time may have to be set aside consciously to heal and to help each other, both the student and the teachers.

A schoolgirl reads from a textbook at an open-air school in New Delhi, India, November 2014. Photo: Reuters/Anindito Mukherjee

I remember that after the 2001 earthquake in Kutch and the 2004 Tsunami in coastal South India, teachers talked about how they had to provide time and space for children to talk. They saw fear and anxiety in the eyes of the children. A fellow educationist Subir Shukla said that children would need ‘emotional rehabilitation and in order to do that schools must prepare for small groups listening, talking and play acting exercises. A free-unstructured space where children can unwind.

Also read: What a Survey of Children in Bihar Revealed About Online Schooling

It is important to address the crisis and children’s experiences directly through conversations and presentations, but even more importantly, indirectly through artistic and creative expression which are known to be very effective in addressing deeper anxieties. Engaging children in making the school environment more child-friendly, preparing and putting up paintings and posters made by children, stories written by students and teachers and other artwork would provide much-needed space and time to start the healing process.

Similarly, singing, sports and group activities could also help. What is absolutely essential is that the teachers should not be asked to rush into completing the syllabus. Educational administration should acknowledge the need for a time for healing – and this needs to be communicated loudly and clearly to all schools – government and private. If such guidelines are indeed prepared and issued, government schools may follow – however inadequately. The private sector may not respond at all and push children back into formal teaching-learning processes with little regard for the children’s mental and emotional state.

Once this is underway and the process gathers momentum, teachers need to be prepared to organise accelerated learning classes – to help children refresh what they know and help them reach a level where they are ready for the grade-specific curriculum. There is a lot of experience in India – especially from the bridge courses of yesteryears, Mahila Shikshan Kendra and KGBV (in the early stages).

It would be valuable to re-visit those experiences – both by the government and NGOs – and help teachers work on appropriate accelerated learning programmes for their children. This could be done for a cluster of 15 to 20 schools, where all teachers are brought together to talk about their own experiences and also what they think would be the situation of children. This could be followed by a structured workshop to help them acquire the ability to work with children with love and empathy.

It is important to acknowledge that the majority of children in government schools and private schools that cater to the poor have not had access to any online learning. Learning levels among children has been flagged as a serious issue even before the lockdown. Teaching children at the right level is known to make a big difference. Equally, many children may have experienced extreme hardship, domestic violence, long journeys and seen the adults in their families fearful and distressed. Therefore, a well-planned and well-designed accelerated learning programme would be essential – once the healing process is winding down. This will be particularly challenging in rural schools in states that have seen a surge in reverse migration from the cities.

Children – boys and girls – in higher classes face the danger of dropping out. Given the economic hardships, loss of employment of parents and distress reverse migration, older children may have to work as daily wagers. Older girls not only have to take on more household responsibilities including fetching water and firewood, grazing cattle etc.; any economic downturn would mean fewer financial resources with families.

Also read: Lockdown Schooling Is No Substitute for Education

Often the first causality in the house is the girl’s education – as secondary education costs money, even in government schools. Older boys may be forced to quit school and get some work to supplement the family income. The larger education community, the government and civil society organisations working with schools may have to design programmes to provide income support to ensure that children do not drop out.

We may also have to allow older children to be irregular and support them with evening programmes to help them cope with their studies. The non-governmental sector could assist government schools in organising such programmes for older children. This would perhaps be one of the biggest challenges – as the fiscal situation of most state government is precarious. Philanthropic organisations and donors may have to come forward to provide scholarships or other forms of income support.

While there is little data or information at present, hunger and malnutrition are said to be on the rise. Children need mid-day meal schemes a lot more now. Combined with a school-health initiative, we need to gear up to provide supplementary nutrition, health check-up and medical advice to children attending school. School heads and teachers may have to work with the panchayat, the local PHC or Sub Centre and the ICDS programme to design a holistic health-nutrition programme that can address the impact of hunger and malnutrition. Local sourcing of vegetables, eggs, pulses, cooking oil could help augment the mid-day meal programme. Maybe the time has come to consider providing breakfast to children when they come to school in the morning.

This demands local and context-specific planning – one that is done at each panchayat or school cluster. Teachers and school heads may have to transform themselves into counsellors and caregivers. Over the last two to three decades, government school teachers have been vilified and seen as work shirkers.

This change in perception happened because of the gradual erosion of the status of the school teacher in our society. They are blamed for the learning deficit and in turn, teachers point to the child’s family and economic status as the root cause of poor learning. Research studies on teacher absenteeism, advocacy for contract teachers as the preferred ‘cost effective’ alternative to secure employment and greater privatisation have steadily eroded both our trust in teachers as well as their social standing.

Indian school children eat their free midday meal at a primary school. Photo: Adnan Abidi/Reuters

This narrative needs to be countered effectively. A recent book of case studies of outstanding teachers by S. Giridhar shows that there are thousands of teachers who not only work hard, but who truly believe all children can learn. As Giridhar puts it:

“If I summarise the core beliefs and pedagogic practices that we saw in these classrooms, the foremost would be the teachers’ belief that ‘every child can learn; the responsibility is ours.’ These teachers try to make the learning experience interesting for every child and respect the existing knowledge they bring to the classroom, using it to build new knowledge… These teachers help children connect concepts with the world around them…”

Trusting teachers, giving them greater autonomy in the school and the classroom and, above all, listening and understanding their problems is essential to encourage them to do their best. We have known all along that teacher belief is perhaps the strongest predictor of an effective learning environment. While we have always known this, most in-service teacher education programmes have focused on specific subject knowledge – popularly known as “hard spots”. Yes, teachers, who are also part of our society, have strong beliefs and prejudices.

Also read: Lockdown Is Disrupting a Generation’s Education. What Can Be Done?

What we need is a systemic effort to address them, alongside the problems that teachers face. This lockdown has not only been traumatic for children – teachers (like the rest of us) have also been affected. Many of them have had to deal with problems in their family and their community. They may also be scared of the virus infecting them and their families. Before schools re-open it would be absolutely essential to bring teachers together in groups (maybe at the cluster or block levels) and give them space to voice their fears and concerns. When they are emotionally ready, they need to be given the skills required to reach out and work with children with empathy and understanding. Teachers need training and concrete strategies to work with children as discussed in the preceding paragraphs. This work needs to start before school reopen – so that the school heads and teachers are ready when children arrive in schools.

The big question is whether our governments – centre and states – have even thought about how they will open the schools and what they need to do. Some state government officers say that they are preparing for a surge in enrolment, some others seem to be focusing on shortening the syllabus and some others are more worried about examinations.

I didn’t hear even one of them talking about the emotional and psychosocial needs of children and teachers. Nor did I hear or read anything about what kind of detailed planning that would be required before schools reopen. Maybe, at this point in time, there is little mind-space among bureaucrats and political leaders. One more sudden knee-jerk decision to open schools without doing the necessary groundwork would be disastrous.

Holistic and meaningful education has been neglected for a long time. Syllabus, curriculum, examination and related issues have been on the radar – the multifaceted nature of education, the social, psychological, physical and overall well-being of students and teachers have not been a matter of concern. This could also be a good time to address fundamental issues related to a holistic approach to child development and meaningful education – an educational process that can empower children to negotiate the world their live in with courage and confidence.

Vimala Ramachandran, formerly professor in NIEPA New Delhi, is a researcher who primarily works on school education, and education and equity issues.

Nandita Choudhry, Kameshwari Jandhyala and Subir Shukla gave inputs for this article.

What a Survey of Children in Bihar Revealed About Online Schooling

Not only is the reality of rural India different from urban, barriers such as gender, that have traditionally kept girls away from schooling, further constrain their access to online education.

These days, online education is in the air.

The boom in Zoom-based meetings, webinars and virtual classrooms have made us believe that it is ‘possible’ to teach or learn using online resources and modes. The digital space is full of educational videos, doing well in this hour of crisis when all schools and educational institutions are closed.

But is it really the alternative? Do all including the poor and others who are disadvantaged have access to these ‘new’ technologies? Widely available smartphones make many believe that access to technology is no more a barrier and therefore, any voice opposing online education is crying foul.

But it is not. Not only is the reality of the rural, peri-urban and poorer India different from the reality of urban middle-class, structural barriers such as gender that have traditionally kept girls away from schooling further constrain their access to online education.

This is what we found when we tried to reach 700-odd students studying in ten government schools in Patna and Muzaffarpur districts in Bihar. We work with these schools and children through a project that enhances critical skills using mentoring as a pedagogical tool. During the lockdown, we decided to undertake a telephonic survey of these children to understand how they are dealing with the crisis and to understand the feasibility of online education.

We are also considering information we gleaned from earlier face-to-face surveys of these children.

Here is what we found.

In our telephonic survey, out of 733 children (253 boys and 480 girls) in classes VII and VIII, 202 (28%) had no phone and 154 (21%) could not be reached as the number was not operational. So, finally we were only able to reach about half of the intended children.

Also read: Lockdown Schooling Is No Substitute for Education

Of these, 277 (38%) had smartphones and 114 (16%) had other phones. A higher percentage of boys (36%) had access to smart phones as compared to girls (28%). The family with no phones had a greater representation of girls and hence, we could reach only 44 % of intended girls as against 51% of intended boys.

Additionally, in almost 95% of the 277 cases where families had a smartphone, the device belonged to a male member and that meant it was not always accessible to children, this being truer for girls than for boys. A number of girls said that they were not in a position to use it for learning purposes. In any case, about half of the families with smartphones did not always have the access as they could not afford the active internet access based packages.

It was difficult in many cases to convince the person receiving the call to pass it to the girl child despite the fact that the call was being made by mentors who regularly visited schools. We could not talk to 13 students (10 girls and three boys) because the adult relatives receiving the call refused to give the phone to the child.

In several cases, fathers, brothers and other male relatives asked if they could take the survey instead of the girl. Majority of the girls we were able to reach were not forthcoming in their conversation as they had to talk in the presence of a male member of the family. Such findings were insightful in understanding how difficult it could be for girls to use online learning materials.

Girls also have a highly disproportionate burden of household chores especially when they are not in school or the school is closed. In our earlier face-to-face survey of these very children, we had found that a bigger proportion of these girls spent a significantly longer period of time on care work as opposed to boys.

Girls also rarely tend to have any control over their time. This restricts their opportunities to even view TV channels when educational programmes are being telecast. A number of state governments have started transmitting educational programmes through TV in response to schools being closed to curb the spread of coronavirus.

This indeed has greater reach than smartphones, but TV too is a shared device and girls may not be free to watch the programmes when they are being aired. For instance, it is likely that a majority of girls are busy carrying out domestic chores from nine to ten in the morning when the government of Bihar telecasts a one-hour daily programme through a free channel. Even for a good section of boys, this may be the time when they help their families with work.

Also read: Lockdown Is Disrupting a Generation’s Education. What Can Be Done?

These findings don’t intend to make the case that there is no merit in any intervention in this crisis or any other similar emergency. However, any intervention has to be responsive to the needs of the intended target groups while also taking cognisance of the structural or other barriers that they could face in accessing the response.

For instance, if most children from low-income households in rural areas are likely to watch TV in the afternoon or early evening, that that should be the time of telecast. Similarly, if the majority cannot be reached through online means, then low-tech options such as text messages and print materials could be explored.

While there are a number of other issues in distance education related with the child’s motivation and lack of interactive opportunities, it is absolutely basic to be mindful of the constraints that restrict access itself. More so, as most of these children are unlikely to find parental support in learning through distance education. Nearly 26% of the fathers and 40% of the mothers that we surveyed have had no education and almost no parent had been to college.

There are also issues of access related to structural poverty. About one-fourth of these 733 students live in a small kutcha or semi pucca one-room houses, with no toilets, and have no space to store even a diary or books safely. The situation is not very different for the rest either. One-third of the families surveyed also had at least one-member migrating outside for work.

On a national scale, we have been witness to the crisis migrant workers are facing during lockdown, with severe implications in terms of reduced income and increased burden for these families. In our telephonic survey, a few parents shared that they had used the cash transferred to the child’s account for books and other schooling related purposes for their survival.

In rural areas, wages have been paid in kind owing to the season of the wheat harvest, and therefore, many families were not facing a major food crisis at the time of survey, but they feared lack of work opportunities later – a dire situation that could be made worse with reverse migration.

What clearly emerged from our survey was that internet-based education is indeed not the solution; a sensitively designed approach that adopts a combination of tools with an emphasis on low-tech means and is responsive to the socio-economic-structural context of children may yield some results.

Also read: Rethinking Education in the Age of the Coronavirus

It is important to develop and try out such approaches as many of these children have no other opportunity and if schools remain closed for long, they may not even come back to school in the absence of any continuity in learning. A number of girls and boys expressed their desire to continue their studies through some means and a response to their needs must be suitably and sensitively delivered.

Jyotsna Jha and Neha Ghatak work with Centre for Budget and Policy Studies in Bangalore which undertook the research for this article.

Lockdown Schooling Is No Substitute for Education

The needs and demands of little children, teenagers, young adults and mature individuals vary. A Zoom session may not work well for all of them.

While the nation has rightly praised health care workers for their efforts to contain the COVID-19 pandemic, there remains a great deal of uncertainty about whether teachers deserve any praise for helping children get through such harrowing times with some sanity. When education was declared a nonessential service, teachers understood that schooling as conducted, in times when the body and mind were free is not valued. Education will have to be reimagined for a different world, a world with changed priorities.

Lockdown-schooling is really an oxymoron – a word that has no place in the lexicon of schooling. Teachers never lock children down. Education has always been about setting the caged bird free, to fly like Jonathan Livingston and reach heights not yet thought of. So teachers, dedicated foot soldiers that they are, especially those with access to a computer or smartphone, have put in silent hard work to rebuild the breakdown that has occurred alongside the lockdown. So what if the school building is not accessible, efforts have been to ensure that communication channels remain open and that children can ask the difficult questions that the times have raised in their minds.

Lockdown schooling is no substitute for education. That needs to be acknowledged upfront since much has been made of online courses. The term education covers a large time frame starting from birth – some may argue even before birth – to well into adulthood. There is a world of difference between a three-year-old and a twenty-year-old. The needs and demands of little children, teenagers, young adults and mature individuals vary depending on which point of the timeline they are on. So while a Zoom session may work well to acquire a quick diploma in Artificial Intelligence for a 25-year-old, it will not work for a five-year-old.

The present-day scenario induced by the outbreak of the coronavirus, where one is shut inside limited space and faced with a screen, is one where the individual increasingly finds that the world outside his screen has no relevance. The outside world and its problems such as migrants starving and dying on roads are distant happenings.

Also read: A Viral Education? Into the Future of Our Locked Classrooms and Shut Campuses

An individual increasingly becomes concerned only with his or her self. Social relations, and even familial relationships, start to slip and predominately one begins to deal with a blinkered existence where there is only I, me and mine. This self-centredness is further underlined when teachers themselves start to widen the divide between the haves and have-nots by concentrating on online classes and leaving out those who are not able to access even audio formats.

Youth is a period where the memories that make us are built and where the synapses of the brain are wired, not just by the many movements of every part of the body, but also by the awakening of the various senses. Youth is the period when a human being, born into a world of a billion people, sees and understands one’s role as a social animal and one’s role in the interrelated scheme of things.

An education, therefore, places an individual, first and foremost, as a social animal with the related traits of empathy, critical thinking, creativity and physical fitness. Secondly, youth is the age for developing a quality intrinsic to growing up: independence. Independence requires informed decision making rooted within a shared value system and an understanding of the other. This is what an online education cannot do and, more relevantly, is not looking to do.

The nationwide lockdown has asked us to align ourselves with those things we always considered important. It has asked us, to not lose sight of the sense of community that is born in coming together in school or the skill of working as a team that comes from sports like kabbadi or football, or conflict resolution that is learnt as children resolve a fight during a break.

These are qualities that have always been crucial to education. These are what differentiate an online education from offline schooling. As the lockdown eases and we look to opening schools again we need to consider how we can keep these core objectives in focus. Numbers is what most Indian schools have in common. If social distancing needs to be maintained after the easing of the lockdown, how should schools manage the transportation of children and full classrooms? Will we need to do an odd-even routine to take us through the year, with some classes coming on one day and others on another day? Will we need to stop all large gatherings like morning assemblies, annual days and sports meets? Will Physical Education classes themselves be off-limits? And if all of these are forbidden, will we be left with an empty shell of schooling or will we do better with the smaller numbers?

Also read: Lockdown Is Disrupting a Generation’s Education. What Can Be Done?

Perspective is core to finding solutions. In all modern Indian stories, there are those whom the story has left out. In this story, left out of schooling during the lockdown, are those who do not have an internet connection or a smartphone. Left out are those who have no homes and are on the road and who do not have food and shelter let alone access to schooling of any kind.

These are the people who look out for each other, who do not pollute the environment and who are creative in answering the problems that face them. Perspective is what will help us understand that character building is at the heart of education not academics, air conditioners or hand sanitizer.

Annie Koshi is Principal of St. Mary’s School in Safdarjung Enclave.

Lockdown Is Disrupting a Generation’s Education. What Can Be Done?

An interesting idea has been in the works in Uttar Pradesh which is planning to use Doordarshan, All India Radio and community radio to promote audio-based learning among students.

The last few days have finally seen a flurry of activities by the Ministry of Human Resource Development (HRD) and various regulators including CBSE, NCERT etc. to find alternatives to ensure the continuation of education. While this may not be a good time to address the seriously low expenditure on education in India, the lack of seriousness towards the sector can be gauged from the fact that HRD was kept in Category C (the lowest category) for expenditure – i.e. the said department will have to restrict expenditure to within 15% of that budgeted for Q1, 2020-21.

Amidst this background, the department and regulators have started moving towards developing an online mode of education – as, hopefully, a stop-gap arrangement. NCERT has released an Alternative Academic Calendar for four weeks of home-based activities for different subjects. For example, activities like categorising objects including eraser, pencils, cloth, pulses etc. to teach the concepts of colours, shapes and sizes have been suggested for the students of Class I-IV.

For Class V students, teachers will be conducting classes through internet-based platforms, in the absence of which SMS and voice recordings can be sent. However, it has not been explained how voice recordings can be sent without the internet. Certain states including Uttar Pradesh are planning to launch high-quality ed-tech applications along with using e-resources suggested by the MHRD including e-pathshala etc.

However, amongst this whole discourse of moving education online, there has hardly been any discussion surrounding the practical issues of implementation, as well as various socio-economic factors which define the Indian education ecosystem.

Limited internet availability

The 75th report of the National Sample Survey Office (NSSO) for 2017-18 highlights some of the major issues that this new model would have to address. All India percentage of households having internet facilities stands at 23.8% with rural availability at 14.9% and urban at 42%.

Also read: Rethinking Education in the Age of the Coronavirus

The problem does not end there, as having a facility does not mean it would be used. The percentage of people who were able to use the internet (all-India) stood at 20.1% with rural at 13% and urban at 37.1%. Additionally, only 10.8% of people in India had used the internet in the last 30 days. It is important to note that these statistics vary vastly among different states across the country. For instance, Bihar stands at the lowest (9.1%) for individuals who have used the internet in 30 days, while Delhi has the highest number (49.1%) of such individuals with bigger states like Maharashtra (26%), Rajasthan (15.3%), Andhra Pradesh (14.8%) etc. being in the middle.

These statistics strike at the core rationale of using the internet as a mode to impart education, and highlight how a majority of the country would be left out of the quest to achieve basic education in the months to come.

Increased responsibility of parents to educate their wards

Another important pillar of the new model is the increased role that parents play in educating their wards. Take, for example, the NCERT guidelines which – surprisingly has progressive methods of teaching to improve the analytical, quantitative, and logical reasoning abilities of the students – all key factors which our regular model of teaching and learning does not have. However, the guidelines presume that the parents will have the academic intellect to impart education to their students. But statistics highlight otherwise.

The same NSSO survey, quoted above, highlights that 26.1% of the population above 15 years of age is ‘not literate’, while a further 18.9% have attended formal education up till primary school, 16.2% each have attended middle (Class V) and secondary (until Class VIII). This constitutes a whopping 77.4% of total India’s population – who may not have the adequate level of education needed to teach children in the house. The situation at the rural level is even more dire, with 69.6 % of the population being in the spectrum of ‘not-literate’ to ‘middle school’.

Loss of nutrition due to school closure

While the above factors touched upon the modality of the education, there is an even more basic issue at stake. The closure of schools has serious implications on the daily nutrition of students as the mid-day meal schemes have temporarily been shut. As of March 31, 2019, close to 12 crore students across the country were provided with food under with mid-day meal schemes.

Guardians of students stand in queues to collect mid-day meal at a school during a nationwide lockdown imposed to curb the spread of novel coronavirus, in Murshidabad district, Monday, April 20, 2020. Photo: PTI

This is close to 60% of the total students enrolled throughout K-12 education (the actual percentage is likely to be more, as mid-day meal only caters to students till Class VIII). Various studies have pointed out that mid-day meals are an important contributing factor for increased enrolment (~30%) in the schools.

Also read: A Viral Education? Into the Future of Our Locked Classrooms and Shut Campuses

These factors highlight a very dangerous scenario for the K-12 education sector in our country. Our learning outcomes in K-12 education do not inspire much confidence, in the first place, as has been pointed out repeatedly in various ASER reports by Pratham.

The loss of possibly half a year – if not the full academic year of 2020-21 – is going to further deteriorate the situation, as students would have difficulty in resuming schooling again after a huge gap. Additionally, the loss of income for a considerable population in India is going to further exacerbate the situation – CMIE’s data suggests that 11.9 crore people have lost employment in the two weeks of the COVID-19 lockdown. Investment in education is not going to be a priority, amongst disadvantaged households, and we might see a dip in enrolment, when and if, schools are opened.

Possible solutions

While the damage to the sector is similar to the damage every sector across the world is facing, it is possible that with some careful planning, we might be able to limit the long-term consequences of this prolonged shutdown.

To begin with, the districts in the green zone should be allowed to open schools – after analysing them further over the next few days. So far, there are 318 districts such in the country – which will likely cover a majority of the school children. Eventually, 292 yellow zone districts – which may turn to the green zone in the next few days or weeks – should also allow schools to open.

Strict social distancing measures should be implemented, and to limit the number of students, classes may run in two four-hour shifts. While this strategy would not result in finishing the quarterly curriculum, this will at least reduce the gap in learning that students are likely to experience if schools continue to remain shut for long. This may also help in addressing the possible increase in drop-outs due to the long shutdown.

This leaves the government with 107 districts which are in red and orange zones. It might not be possible to open schools in these areas any time soon, thus, there is a need to deploy public funds to fix the internet gap and ensure that students continue to learn. Some state government have come up with ideas to address this concern.

The Delhi government had mooted an interesting idea to provide data packages to the students of Class X and XII. While this is likely to have certain implementation challenges – particularly the misuse of data for objectives other than learning – smart technology solutions can be found. Use of the internet can be restricted to specific applications prepared by the government. Similarly, another interesting idea has been in works in the state of Uttar Pradesh which is planning to use Doordarshan, All India Radio and community radio to promote audio-based learning among students who do not have access to the internet.

Also read: Teaching in the Time of Isolation

Additionally, there is a need to develop a financial stimulus for the education sector primarily targeting low cost private aided and unaided schools – which are likely to witness a reduction in fee collections, due to income losses. Various states, including Rajasthan, Punjab, Haryana, and Uttar Pradesh have already announced that schools should not pressurise parents to pay fees.

However, a move like this is going to have a spillover impact on the incomes of teachers at such low-cost private schools. As of 2016-17, close to 28 lakh teachers were employed in private unaided schools, and further 8.3 lakh in government-aided schools. A more rational system could be to allow a reduced percentage of the fee in schools which are partially working (red and orange zone), with full fees for schools which would be fully functional (green and yellow).

Wherever relevant, a grant-in-aid could be issued for specific schools on a case-to-case basis to bridge income and expenditure. The powers for the same can be devolved to the district authorities to ensure a more localised approach.

While understandably, India as a developing country does not have unlimited resources, certain core sectors including education cannot simply be left as the last priority. Similar to other sectors, which are witnessing a staggered opening, the education sector – particularly the K-12 education system – needs to be opened in a staggered way.

These 12 years of education are crucial for every student and are the base years that will support the upward social and economic mobility of disadvantaged classes. A long and unplanned hiatus is likely to shatter the dreams of many and further harm the country in the long-term with a less-educated workforce. We need more talented and skilled individuals to get us out of the possible recession that the world is going to face and dropping the ball on education, is not going to help the cause.

Rohit Kumar is a government and regulatory affairs professional based out of Delhi. He works in driving public policy and advocacy campaigns across various sectors in India. He is also a former LAMP fellow. He tweets at @rsachdeva735

Rethinking Education in the Age of the Coronavirus

Our ‘modern’ universities have burdened us with the packages of specialised knowledge. Yet, we are almost incapable of engaging with the inherent uncertainty of existence.

It is unfortunate that even as educationists and teachers, we refuse to learn any meaningful lesson from the crisis confronting the entire humankind. As the coronavirus pandemic shatters the modernist notion of ‘order’, we ought to contemplate and reexamine what we have taken for granted till now—our ‘academic’ and ‘technical’ skills, or our pride in the ‘intelligence’ that universities cultivate.

However, what is ironic is that even at this puzzling moment, we fail to see beyond techno-managerial solutions; seldom do we go beyond what is popularly known as ‘online’ learning. The assumption is that the lockdown period should not be wasted; and students and teachers must keep their ‘normal’ activities alive, complete the ‘syllabus’ through ‘online’ learning, and get their degrees in due time. Hence, nothing, it is thought, is more important than reading the same texts, completing the same kind of assignments, and listening to the same monologue of the teachers. Use technology, work from home, and continue the ‘academic production’!

I see its absurdity. I feel this is the time for an honest and a rigorous self- reflection; this is the time to understand the deeper layers of our consciousness; and this is the time to examine where we have gone wrong. Yes, this is the time to rethink education. It doesn’t matter even if we do not complete the official syllabus; it makes no difference even if, for instance, sociology students do not write yet another standardised term paper on Max Weber’s Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, or philosophy students miss a couple of routinised lectures on Spinoza and Descartes. What, I feel, is really important is to unlearn the old baggage of knowledge, and derive a meaning of existence in the period of existential and ontological uncertainty.

From arrogant conquerors to humble wanderers

I know modernity has given us many things. It has activated our physical and vital energy; it has sharpened the power of the intellect; and it has given us ‘comforts’. Yet, modernity with its triumphant agenda has destroyed the possibility of an organic relationship between the human species and the universe. Instead, its Baconian science has asked us to manipulate and conquer nature; its Cartesian dualism has separated reason from emotion; technocrats and economists have made us believe that we can go on with the gospel of unlimited growth, and reckless exploitation of natural resources; and the spectacular success in bio-medicine makes us think that it is not far away when we can even conquer death.

Also read: Teaching in the Time of Isolation

In a way, we have become arrogant conquerors. The self-perception of being ‘modern’ is to be a conqueror filled with the power of instrumental reason and techno-science, and capable of keeping everything under his or her commands.

But then, the coronavirus has shattered this confidence. No, we are not the masters of the world. And not everything can be fitted into our notion of mathematical precision and engineered order. Not everything can be predicted—the way we predict whether it will rain this afternoon in South Delhi. In other words, the coronavirus has brought us to the domain of uncertainty and perplexity. And herein lies the importance of what the enthusiastic champions of modernity wanted us to forget: the inherent mystery of existence. To acknowledge this mystery is to redefine ourselves. This is to transform us from arrogant conquerors to humble wanderers.

It is in this context that we have to rethink education. Our ‘modern’ universities have burdened us with the packages of specialised knowledge; we have learned to acquire all sorts of ‘technical skills’; we have cultivated the prosaic intellect. Yet, we are almost incapable of engaging with the inherent uncertainty of existence—or, say the possibility of death knocking our doors at this very moment. Hence, when a crisis of this kind confronts us, we are terribly shaken, we fail to see beyond masks and sanitisers, and yesterday’s conquerors become today’s fearful mortals.

A view of deserted BMC headquarters due to the coronavirus pandemic during a nationwide lockdown, at CSMT in Mumbai, Saturday, March 28, 2020. Photo: PTI/Kunal Patil

And hence at this crucial juncture, as educationists we must ask ourselves whether we should redefine education as a new quest of a wanderer. Should education give us the psychic, spiritual or aesthetic strength to understand our location in this vast universe, cherish a sense of gratitude and humility, and live gracefully even amidst the fragile character of the phenomenal world—the way a tiny blue flower blooms for a couple of days, and then withers away with absolute grace?

And if we do not ask this question, and continue to do what we have been doing for years—say, working in our science labs and publishing papers in journals with high ‘impact factor’, or like a parrot quoting from Derrida and Lacan, or fetching an M.Tech or MBA from ‘top ranking’ universities, we would prove to be utterly callous and insensitive.

From ‘social distancing’ to engaged responsibility

Think of it. The term ‘social distancing’ can emerge only from the kind of society we moderns have created. Yes, we are used to the pathos of the lonely crowd; anonymity or heartless indifference characterises our urban spaces; new gadgets further take us to our solitary cells, even though we might have thousands of ‘followers’ and ‘subscribers’; and above all, the normalisation of surveillance in our times has erected huge walls of separation and exclusion. Furthermore, the prevalent practice of education has already transformed us into reckless competitors or warriors. We have almost lost the ecstasy of the communion. Is it the reason that even at this moment of crisis we can only think of ‘distancing’?

Also read: We Will Survive the Coronavirus. We Need to Make Sure We Survive Ourselves.

I admit that there is a danger of community transmission, and the spread of the coronavirus can be combated reasonably through physical distancing. However, physical distancing is not social distancing. In fact, through a new mode of education, we can generate an ethos of socially enriched engaged responsibility and ethics of care, despite the temporality of physical distance.

This is like realizing that while obsessive fear makes us selfish and insulated, it is love that heals the wound. To love is to connect. And hence, all these meaningful gestures—say, talking to a friend who lives alone in the distant suburb over the telephone, or not hoarding extra grocery material for one’s own family, or, for that matter, persuading the neighbours in the gated community not to be solely preoccupied with the new apps for the undisturbed supply of fish and meat in their 1500 sq.ft apartments, or with their own ‘safety’ (which, anyway, is a myth – in a ‘risk society’ there is no winner, and even Prince Charles can get it) and start a fundraising drive for migrant workers suffering severely because of the lockdown – would matter a great deal.

This is the time for realising the need for sharing and togetherness, and love and therapeutic healing. However, if we do not change ourselves, and, instead, continue to cherish the mantra of ‘distancing’, we would eventually find ourselves in a world where the victims would be more and more stigmatised, a new form of untouchability would emerge (it has already begun as we see the way the doctors dealing with the coronavirus victims have been asked to vacate their houses), and in the name of ‘safety’ the authoritarian state would further dehumanise us through the chains of surveillance. We would enter a frightening dystopian age.

Hence, as educationists and teachers, we are required to make a choice. Should we continue with the kind of education that only makes us ‘logical’, yet ethically and spiritually impoverished self-centric careerists? Or should we learn some deep lessons from the present crisis, and redefine education to undertake a new journey: from the narcissism of modernity to the poetry of connectedness with the rhythm of life and death; from certainty to mystery; or from weapons of destruction to prayers of redemption.

Avijit Pathak is a professor of Sociology at JNU.

Teaching in the Time of Isolation

Will universities just need humans or robots to record lectures and upload them on the internet? Is the human teacher in an actual classroom a dinosaur, on the verge of extinction?

“Swipe down diagonally from the top right corner of your iPad,” said the instruction on the website. After a few random attempts at swiping in various directions, and during which I nearly dropped the iPad, a few buttons finally and suddenly appeared. One of them had the magic words “screen sharing” under it. Excited, I started speaking over my slides to test. I played the video back to discover there was no sound.

Was the experiment a failure even before it had started? After some more juggling and more instructions, I realised I had to keep the screen-sharing button pressed for a few seconds to allow it to access the microphone. I tested again, and it worked.

I put my phone on silent, shut the door and sat down with my iPad to record my first remote lecture. With three decades of teaching experience, walking into a classroom and teaching is second nature to me. I was confident I would breeze through the recording, once the teething troubles of finding the right buttons to press had been sorted out.

I should also confess I was secretly pleased at having been spared the long commute to the Ashoka University campus (at that time it was just a two-week closure, not an indefinite lockdown, and that unexpected short break seemed very welcome, like a precious rainy-day holiday we would cherish as schoolchildren). Some of us have often joked about an Ashoka campus in Delhi, closer to home. Now, for a few days, the campus was not only close to home, it had walked right into the living room.

I started speaking and the first few minutes were fine. In the classroom, a few minutes down, I typically look at my students’ faces and gauge their reactions. Do I need to wake them up? Tell a joke? Say something provocative? Give an example from a movie? Locked in my bedroom, I got distracted trying to imagine what their reactions might be as they listened to this.

Also read: ‘Hard to Plan Survival’: Migrants, Contract Workers on Looming Uncertainty Amidst Lockdown

I had to force myself to focus on the lecture, as there was a disjunction between the act of speaking and the act of listening. Not only was nobody listening to me instantaneously as I spoke, I didn’t even know when the students would eventually get around to listening to the recording. Of course, in theory, I knew about this as I decided to record my lecture but the implications of this disconnection, in practice, of what seemed like a relatively minor deviation from the routine way of lecturing were completely unexpected. I found myself rather disconcerted.

As I got deeper into the technicalities, I was desperate to ask: Are you with me? Is it clear? Should I repeat? In the classroom, I tend to make eye contact with students repeatedly, and pick up on a frown on someone’s face even if they haven’t asked a question. Which part of this is unclear? Did you read the paper I had shared beforehand? How many of you read it? I spent a lot of time on this in the last class, remember?

But in this virtual non-existent classroom, there was nobody but me. And I was talking to my inanimate, unresponsive, expressionless iPad. I went through the lecture, occasionally repeating, occasionally pausing and completely clueless about whether I had managed to make a connection.

I sent an email to students requesting feedback on my first experience recording a remote lecture. I had done a few podcasts earlier, but those were always interviews, i.e. I was speaking to someone in the recording studio, who was asking questions and responding to my comments. But alone with my gadgets, staring at the walls, I felt like a novice despite three decades of teaching, with the same nervous energy I had felt after my very first lecture. The relief I felt when students started responding with positive feedback was palpable.

However, after a week of experimenting with recorded lectures, I realised that a defining feature of the classroom is the interaction between students and the teacher and between students themselves. Students feed on each other’s energies, positive and negative. Students are also very astute: anticipating their questions and preparing for hypothetical questions that might get asked keeps teachers on their toes. Starting week 2, I have switched to online lectures, where I can see my students on the screen as I am delivering my lecture. It’s not the same as being in class together but as close as one can get to recreate that experience.

When teachers work from home

The pandemic has forced all of us lucky enough to have regular jobs to work from home (WFH). Middle-class freelancers have always done this but teaching is – or was until now – intrinsically about human contact, about the real-time communication between teachers and students. As one transitions into WFH for what looks like the indefinite future, one begins to wonder… Could this be the future of pedagogy? Is the classroom being permanently replaced by Zoom or Google Meet? Looking further ahead, will universities just need humans or robots to record lectures and upload them on the internet? Is the human teacher in an actual classroom a dinosaur, on the verge of extinction?

Digitally available lessons are not new at all and have continuously been evolving over the last decade, and more to very sophisticated forms. The internet is a treasure trove of amazingly well-curated content and pedagogical tools. Only a Luddite would deny the positively revolutionary role that several virtual platforms have played in disseminating knowledge by releasing concepts, tools, scholarship and ideas from ivory towers and rendering them accessible and usable to those who have internet access and know where to look.

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Yet the real-world classroom has features that no digital medium can replicate. The science students can’t perform experiments virtually and science teaching is incomplete without experiments. The arts also needs physical lessons, especially for the more creative side. A good vocal music teacher will look at your posture and be able to correct you if you are not producing the sound from your stomach. Humanities and the social sciences might fare marginally better at being able to deliver basic content online but face-to-face discussion and blackboards are indispensable for advanced learning.

Learning is not a solitary activity. Far more important than the interactions inside the classroom are those outside it. Students exchanging notes, studying together, teachers discussing ideas over coffee (or drinks), chatting about the latest research, arguing, bonding – all these are essential for our brains to remain active, alert and inquisitive. That’s why coffee houses are integral to the vitality of university life. And this is one aspect online platforms accessed from the confines of the home are unable to recreate.

The H in the WFH

Finally, and unrelated to everything above, is the question of the suitability of the home as a space for learning. Only a small minority has spacious, quiet, happy homes. Even if everybody had uninterrupted electricity and high-speed internet, there would be several teachers and students for whom the home would not be a conducive setting – especially in developing countries where homes tend to be small, and personal privacy a luxury. Teachers, especially women, would find it very difficult to convince children or elders at home to maintain silence for the duration of their lectures.

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Time-use surveys for women across different cultural settings have recorded how women multi-task routinely: cooking, cleaning, feeding the toddler, supervising the older kid, serving food to the parents-in-law, while checking emails (if they are urban professionals). Homes can also be oppressive and abusive spaces: the college classroom, by forcing both teachers and students to be physically away from their homes, has the potential to allow them to free their minds temporarily from the tyranny at home.

In these extraordinary times, we the teachers have no option but to shift online, lock, stock and barrel, and thousands of us across the world have risen to the challenge. As we adapt to this new reality, some are wondering if this is the beginning of the end of our species, the Homo magister. Ten days into the world of online instruction, as I crave for my classroom, I feel optimistic that it is not.

Ashwini Deshpande is a professor of economics at Ashoka University.

Sebastian Thrun, Modi and the Forgotten Promise of MOOCs

Even as the celebrated Udacity CEO steps down, the pivoting of his company over the last few years offers lessons to skilling and re-skilling India’s youth.

Even as Sebastian Thurn steps down as Udacity's CEO, what can we learn from the way his company changed course? Credit: J D Lasica, Flickr, CC BY 2.0,

Even as Sebastian Thrun steps down as Udacity’s CEO, what can we learn from the way his company changed course? Credit: J D Lasica/ Flickr, CC BY 2.0

“I feel like there’s a red pill and a blue pill, and you can take the blue pill and go back to your classroom and lecture your 20 students. But I’ve taken the red pill, and I’ve seen Wonderland.”

– Sebastian Thrun, 2012.

Sebastian Thrun is a man that once stood on the cusp of a technological revolution. In 2011, as the legend goes, the celebrated Stanford professor left his classroom, went home, and using a hastily-put-together digital camera set-up and napkins, started teaching a course on artificial intelligence.

Over the next three months, students of his online course received every bit of material that his Stanford students got: lectures, assignments and exams. His online course ended up attracting over 150,000 students from around the world and history was made. The MOOC (Massively Online Open Course) was born, and Thrun’s company Udacity played a huge role in making American higher education catch MOOC fever. Nearly every university in the US started offering a few courses on at least one of the major MOOC platforms that sprung up. In 2012, the New York Times ran a story declaring 2012 to be the “Year of the MOOC”.

Far away from the US, the idea of offering a free, Ivy-League education to a kid in India or Africa through a tablet was equally infectious.

In 2014, newly elected Prime Minister Narendra Modi allocated a little over 100 crore rupees to “online education for MOOCs and virtual classrooms” in his first Union budget. Later that year the Swayam platform server was set up on the open edX platform which would allow American and Indian universities to offer postgraduate academic courses online to India’s students.

But there was one problem with Thrun’s vision.

MOOCs never really delivered in terms of disrupting traditional higher education or offering an education to students who couldn’t afford to go to Harvard or Stanford. At the very least, these things couldn’t be done for free. As it turned out, putting up a lecture online without the rest of the traditional education infrastructure resulted in very low completion rates.

Even the most charitable assessment has pointed out that for any given MOOC course, less than 10% of students who sign up actually end up completing the course. The ones who do usually complete these courses are students who have already attained some sort of higher education degree.

The fatal flaw

The fatal flaw in the “classic MOOC,” as Thrun noted in an interview with PandoDaily, is that it is free. “We learned we can drastically boost learning outcomes by adding a service layer around MOOCs… It’s not a MOOC [anymore] because we ended up charging for it.”

This service layer that Thrun refers to transforms the hyped-up disruptive company into a more pedestrian, traditional provider of higher education. People who sign up for paid online courses are provided with a mentor from Udacity who coach you through Google Hangouts and follow a “very different model from the classic MOOC.”

Referring to the industry’s earlier promise of free, high-quality online education as a “lousy product,” Thrun pointed out that “if you are affluent we can do a much better job with you, we can make magic happen.” Having students pay for online courses, as it turns out, boosts the course completion rate to somewhere around 60% (compared to the earlier 10%) and also scores higher when it comes to metrics such as retention of knowledge.

In short, the Web 2.0 rhetoric of disruption that accompanied MOOCs didn’t pan out. Over the last two years Udacity and other “MOOC” companies have started offering a number of paid courses and “nano degrees,” which are intensive certification courses that train people for technical jobs such as software development. Not only does this work – but it also helps the industry make money.

On Monday, April 25, 2016, Thrun stepped down from his position as CEO of Udacity. In interviews with the press, he quotes the examples of Google co-founders Larry Page and Sergey Briney who got Eric Schmidt to run their company while the both of them could “focus on innovation.” Thrun will now leave the running of the company and the fine-tuning of its business model in the capable hands of India-origin Vishal Makhijani (the company’s COO) while he presumably turns his attention to the next big thing in digital education as Chairman of Udacity.

No doubt, Thrun, who once dreamt of nothing less than a technological revolution in the higher education space, will search for a new vision.

Lessons for India

However, does the deflating of the MOOC bubble have any lessons for Modi’s Digital India and his plan for educating and skilling India’s youth?

For one, the 100 crore rupees, as well as any future money that is allocated towards this area, shouldn’t go into subsidising smartphones and other devices in the hope that India’s students will log on and complete the online courses that are offered for free. While the initiatives taken by a number of IITs and other social science universities like JNU – which have offered a number of their courses on the Swayam platform – are to be applauded, they are unlikely to make a serious dent in India’s learning crisis.

The 2016 Union Budget makes specific reference to entrepreneurship education and training “through massive open online courses.” Offering education and skilling in a vacuum, without the participation of industry, is unlikely to succeed. A far better way is to set aside the “open and available to anyone” rhetoric and have companies sponsor online certification courses that India’s unemployable graduates can use to skill themselves.

An interesting example of this is how Udacity has opened its nanodegree programme to India. The seven computer science nanodegree courses – which are aimed at positions ranging from front-end Web developers to data analysts – cost nearly 10,000 rupees per month. Udacity, however, refunds 50% of this amount back to the students after they graduate successfully. In addition to this, Google and Tata Trusts have offered to sponsor this programme for a huge number of applicants – mostly because the search engine company expects to be able to hire them once they finish the nanodegree course. On similar lines, in Georgia Tech, an online master’s degree in computer science is being largely sponsored by AT&T, which will use the program “to train employees and find potential hires.”

While this scenario isn’t perfect, and certainly doesn’t solve the issue of how online courses can help primary education (if at all), it offers an example that we can learn from. It’s time to cut the “flipped classroom” and free education rhetoric, learn from how Thrun’s Udacity has changed and figure out how the once-massively open and online course can help in skilling and educating India.