Sunday, July 29, 2007

Words as refuge

Words have a way of obscuring the real thing. We often take refuge in them and use them to say one thing, and mean something else. This happens both in our personal and professional lives. So, for example, when someone says ‘I love you’, it is a nice way of hiding many different emotions, ideas and impulses under the word ‘love’. The person to whom this statement is made also has the option of choosing meanings she thinks is appropriate in that context. In due course of time, both persons involved will know if what was said was in consonance with what happened. Actions, it is said, speak louder than words. I have used the above example because it happens to be the most used and abused statement.

Actually, I was prompted to write this article as a result of a workshop that I facilitated in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands recently. We were talking about the impact of the tsunami on young preschool aged children. The last session was a sort of visioning exercise in which the participants were asked to visualize the kind of scenario they wanted to see a few years hence with respect to young children affected by the tsunami, their growth, their environment and their development. For the sake of our discussion, I have reproduced some statements below.

‘The parents and community should participate more…’
‘The quality of the centers should be better…’
‘Those concerned should show greater commitment…’
“The preschool center should have more materials…’

This is like a nice wish list. Still, I’m not complaining because one cannot deny the situation or state in the future that these statements reflect. I also do not doubt the intentions of those who made these statements. Where I have a problem is in the utter lack of visualization in these above statements – they do not tell us much, and they cannot help us move forward. When I asked the participants what they meant when they used words like participation, quality, commitment and so on, most of them struggled to explain. The one notable exception was the statement from a participant that ‘I would like to see someone from the community walk into the preschool center everyday to see what is happening, spend some time with the teacher and children…this is part of my vision of how young children should be growing up.’ The same participant also went on to share her images of how children would be using the physical space at the center, and the activities they would be engaged in. There was feeling in what she said. You could sense it.

Imagination seems to have gone out of our lives. I realized this as I was facilitating that final session. Following years of interactions, discussions, presentations etc around the same themes and issues, we tend to convert these (and many other…) words into abstractions. It is then assumed that the other person knows what this abstraction means. Words become symbols that convey a variety of meanings, depending on the context.

This tendency for abstraction may be a natural feature of any language, and it is certainly an effective way of communicating with one another. It allows us to economize the way we use language. The danger we fall into is that we allow these words to take the place of images, so vitally important for us to dream, conceive of a better future, and invest all our energies towards making this future happen. At this epoch in human history, the exercise of imagining is even more important than before, for we face gargantuan challenges as a species to even exist.

Let us then reclaim space for imagination, dreaming…Three years ago, in 2004, I happened to attend the World Social Forum in Mumbai. The slogan at the forum was ‘Another World is Possible.’ How powerful! How beautiful…! There were so many discussions about what this slogan meant to each one of us, and many of us shared our dreams for the kind of world we wanted to see and leave for our children. This is the point I wish to make: dream, imagine, feel…for our individual and collective futures.

29th July
Leh, Ladakh, India

Monday, July 23, 2007

Movement...

I wanted to share with you some thoughts that were thrown up in my mind recently, on my train journey from Bikaner to Delhi. I managed to dash off again to the desert for just a day after a hectic round of traveling...!

The Delhi-Bikaner train runs on meter gauge, and is a smaller train. My guess is that it therefore shakes and vibrates that much more…While I was returning on that night, I couldn't sleep easily...too many thoughts were whirring around in my poor brain...

Suddenly, I realized how interesting it would be, if one could plot on paper, the motion of my body -- you would of course get a curve showing the general direction in which the train was moving. This curve would have many squiggles on either side of it, representing the sideways and up and down movement of the train. In three dimensional representation, perhaps, the motion of my body could also be represented...

Suddenly, I realized how much movement there was, generally...

While I was moving towards Delhi thus, the earth was rotating on its axis...and was hurtling through space, around the sun, at 18 miles per second...the sun was rotating on its axis, the planets were going around the sun in their prescribed paths, rotating and revolving, taking their own times...the sun itself was moving, revolving around the center of the Milky Way galaxy...it would take 250 million years for one revolution of the sun around the center of the galaxy...the Milky Way contains 1,00,000 million (!) suns, all moving in their own paths, rotating and revolving around the center...the galaxy itself was rotating, and hurtling though space at an incredible speed...and there are billions of such galaxies...the mind recoils from imagining such vastness and complexity...!!

The fundamental thing is that there is so much movement everywhere...within and without.

Lovers move, when they make love, in erotic, erratic and unpredictable ways...leaves and flags flutter in the breeze, butterflies move from flower to flower...trains, buses, planes, bullock carts, horses, donkeys, dogs, cats, snakes...all move of their own volition...water...blood moves and oozes out...and clots…

The fundamental thing is that there is so much movement everywhere...within and without.

We move in our sleep...and when we are awake...organs inside of us move...each cell is moving...it has a purpose...huge aggregates of molecules inside these cells move...cells die, humans die, are born again, and there is movement...

The fundamental thing is that there is so much movement everywhere...within and without.

Molecules move, and atoms move inside them...electrons move inside the atoms, rotating and revolving around the nucleus...the nucleus itself moves, rotates, vibrates...there are particles inside these sub-atomic particles, which move mysteriously, and of their own
volition...particles within particles within particles -- where is the end? Is it a particle or a wave...? There is a universe within, just as there is a universe without...again, my imagination recoils and I'm awestruck at this creation...where is the end...the beginning...what am I, who am I?

The fundamental thing is that there is so much movement everywhere...within and without.

Thought is movement...our feelings, passions, sensations...cannot happen without movement...good thoughts, good movement...? Bad thoughts, bad movement...? Evolution is movement...Insight...is movement...Love...is movement...lust...is movement...

The fundamental thing is that there is so much movement everywhere...within and without.

Is there anything that is completely still...without any movement? Can stillness exist with chaos?

The act of writing this is a movement...

Delhi
16th October 2001

Monday, July 2, 2007

Education as Dialectic: Children in Dialogue with a Community Member

Education as dialectic: children in dialogue with a community member

I had the opportunity of translating this very interesting diary entry of a teacher from Bodh Shiksha Samiti’s Bodhshala (in Jaipur) when I undertook an in-depth documentation of Bodh’s work last year (2006). This classroom transaction shows us the possibilities of an education that encourages rational thinking and enquiry…

“Today, there were 19 children in the ‘Badal’ group (ages 8-10 years) of the Guru Teg Bahadur Basti Bodhshala. The topic for discussion was identified by the children themselves. Four days back, we had all felt the tremors of an earthquake. The children had begun discussing this event in the Badal group. They also discussed their experiences of the tremor with me. I observed them following assertions being made in conversations with each other:

1. ‘The earth rests on one horn of a cow. When this horn gets tired, the cow shifts the earth on to the second horn. That is when the earth starts shaking…’
2. The earth rests on the hood of a snake. When the snake starts swaying and hissing, the earth shakes…’

There must have been many more such imaginative examples generated by the children in their numerous conversations.

That year, the Bodhshala was regularly inviting parents and community representatives to take part in its activities. We had two objectives. One, we wanted them to become familiar with what was happening in the Bodhshalas. Two, we wanted them to share their knowledge, understanding and experiences with children. Bodh believes this to be important.

It was Diler Singh’s turn at the Bodhshala today.

I could see that the children became happy when they saw Diler Singh walk in. He was a calm and soft looking person, and the children liked him very much. They were waiting to discuss with him the question ‘What does the earth rest on?’ They had already decided on this before he came. Once he was seated and settled, they placed for him the question: ‘Please tell us, what does the earth rest or stand on?’

Diler Singh pondered for a while. Instead of responding with an answer, he asked another question: ‘What makes you all think that the earth is standing or resting on something?’ Promptly, the children shared with him their experiences of the tremor, and the questions that arose from that experience.

He then said, ‘Look here! This whole thing is a miracle of nature. Your ideas that the earth rests on the horn of a cow or the hood of a snake are all wrong. In reality, the earth rests on a pillar on which is inscribed the name of Lord Ram…When there is much sin on the earth, Lord Ram becomes angry. Then the pillar shakes and so does the earth…’ Barely had he finished speaking, when a barrage of questions was hurled at him by the children even as the group lapsed into chaos.

One child asked: ‘Have you seen God?’

Another child jumped into the fray: ‘What is this Miracle of Nature?’

A third challenged him: ‘How can you prove that the earth does not rest on the horn of a cow?’

Diler Singh was shaken and disturbed. I was not used to seeing him this way. He normally came across as a calm human being. I fell silent. As the volley of questions subsided and as silence set in, a soft voice persisted: ‘Have you seen that pillar of Lord Ram?’ The group again became restive and chaotic. In that din, I could hear Diler Singh’s angry voice: ‘What kind of education is this? You have given the children such a long rope…without any proper discussion they ask all sorts of questions. They do not listen silently, to understand the reality…’ Thus, he raved and ranted.

I tried to collect my wits and regain my confidence following his outburst. Suddenly, the children sensed that something was amiss. As I cautiously looked at them, I could make out that they were all looking guilty, as if they had owned up for a crime they had committed. I tried to reassure them with a smile which was meant to say, ‘Don’t worry, it is not your mistake.’

Diler Singh eventually calmed down and asked me, ‘Why are you keeping silent? You are not saying anything to me or the children.’ His question made me feel at ease. I then decided to continue this process and suggested that everyone could take a piece of paper and draw a picture of the earth and the object on which it rested, as they imagined it. Diler Singh too participated in this exercise. As he started drawing, I noticed that he had a difficulty of balancing the earth on the pillar of Lord Ram…coupled with this frustration, and his curiosity to find out what the children were drawing, he started looking around.

As the minutes passed, I could sense that something seemed to have happened inside him. Something seemed to have changed in him for ever. Resignedly, he said, ‘This is very difficult….I learnt today that talking about something is so easy. So is accepting what someone says, without asking any questions. To prove things, however, is far more difficult. I’m beginning to see that it is not alright if we accept anything without first understanding it. Before this, I used to think that only those children are ‘good’, who learn well, who silently listen to what is being taught and give answers when asked, based on what they have been told.’

There was no need for me to explain any further. The children and I continued to discuss the question. ‘What does the earth rest on…?’

[Translated from the notes of Kusum, then Bodhshala teacher (1992)]

Giri
January 2006
Jaipur