I switched on the news recently and there she was – a parent whose child studies at Bethany High school (Bangalore), saying something to this effect: “How can you place two types of children – poor and rich – students of different “calibre” alongside in the same class?” The assumption was that the calibre of a poor child is low and that of a rich child is high. She used words such as “higher” and “weaker’ to describe children from these economic backgrounds.
The pupils dilated!
The bile rose in disbelief as the lady spewed garbage on national television!
Ameeta Wattal, Principal, Springdales School, also a part of a raging debate, shook her head in disgust. ” I can’t listen to this, ” she muttered every few minutes, under her breath.
The discussion was pegged on a circular put together by Bethany, which was then circulated privately to parents; it referred to poor children as “criminals” who are likely to smoke and beat up “your” children in class. According to the principal, the idea was to warn parents of what to expect in the following one year in light of the Right to Education Act, according to which private schools must reserve 25% seats for poor students in Class 1 in 2011.
Click here to watch the debate.
It is one thing to be uncomfortable about the consequences of the RTE, but to actually believe that calibre is decided by one’s economic background is delusional! Arnab, looking bewildered and somewhat resigned at this attitude, quizzed the parent on how “calibre” could possibly be dependent on whether you are rich or poor?
The principal of yet another private school stated that putting a rich child and a poor child in the same classroom is not appropriate, as one would be gabbing about McD’s while the other “does not even know whether he will get the basic things” (perhaps if they do the latter would discuss global warming instead of McDs!). This idea was somewhat thwarted by a tweet by an ex-student of Kendriya Vidyalaya who said that many of his schoolmates came from very poor backgrounds, and some of them are his best friends even today.
Come to think of it, I had poor classmates, too. It was really no big deal. But one thing is certain; before poor children set foot into a private school populated by children of a certain strata, it is the principal, teachers and the management who need to be sensitised. Children of course are the least of the problem as they tend to emulate whatever is practiced by their role models.
On a different note, as I fed Daffy one day (a street dog who lives down the lane), a little boy of about 7-8 years of age, who works as a rag picker watched Daffy as he lapped up half a litre of milk. I felt guilty for feeding a hungry dog whilst a hungry child, looked on. The boy began following me and asked me for some money to buy food. But instead offering him money, I gave him a packet of biscuits, which he wolfed down in a jiffy before I could say “Khao”. I asked him his name and had to stoop really low to get a whiff of what he was saying. Braj Singh, I figured.
Every now and then, the boy follows me and I give him biscuits or a kachori. One day we decided to have some aloo tikki. As it was being prepared on a wok, the man started warning me (animatedly) about how the boy uses the money people give him, to buy beer. I then reminded him that he is a kid. Then he told me that the gang of rag pickers steal, and that the police is always keeping an eye on them. Once again I reminded him that these “thieves” were between 8-12 years of age, and unless taught otherwise, they are bound to be up to no good. He quit eulogising and handed over a plate of food to the boy.
On a different note (seems I am addicted to this phrase!), a friend of mine once made a very, very odd statement during those formative days when I was getting acquainted with him. “I like poor people,” he said, later confiding in me that his parents were migrant workers who had seen very, very hard days. A bright student, books and his love for reading set him free.
A media professional who has created somewhat of a niche for himself, today, I applaud my friend for making the crossover to a white collar position that lets him influence thoughts, ideas and people. But he never forgets the difficult days and remembers the names of the children at every traffic signal, and has a smile, food and other goodies for them, when the signal turns red.
On the other hand, I have another friend who is also a position to influence thoughts, ideas and people, someone who is jovial, funny and empathetic, and yet is unempathetic to the chai boy who delivers his chai. He asked the chai boy for the amount he had to pay him to which the boy muttered something incoherently. My friend asked him rather brusquely to speak louder and gave him the amount sans a tip. The chai boy seemed like a zombie, a little zombie of eight years or less, with no expression on his face. I asked him his name and gave him some money, but his expression did not change and he seemed resigned to being expressionless.
Rediff.com, recently did a series children who work for over eight hours a day and earn a pittance, everyday:
12-year old Mohammed wanted to watch FIFA. But he could not…
Lil’ un named Shumbhu
”With Rs 200 a month, I can’t even afford to dream”
The comments to these pieces were diverse. Some insist we ban child labour. But then if we ban it, what will they eat? Another observed that employing children is one thing. But being cruel and brutal is another. Yet another reader was pissed with the author: “By writing this article and giving the photograph of the 11-year old boy, you have done a grave injustice to him. Most probably he will lose this job as the government authorities will be after his employer and charge him for engaging child labour. The poor boy will lose his job and whatever little earning he is getting now to educate his brothers. Has the writer given any thought to this before writing?”
Perhaps he has a point. But the long and short of it is that the series of stories, which tells it as it is, generated much interest from readers and several comments, mostly empathetic, concerned ones. Perhaps it is because of the approach to the stories is to tell it as it is, and not romantise their situation through the use of rich prose. Either ways, these stories gave a face to the little faces in our chai stalls and grocery stores. Perhaps we cannot change their lives, but we can be kind and we can smile and we can give them a cookie or a tip every now and then.
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EACH time I walked passed the pedispa at one of these Delhi malls, I would think “Mmmm…that could be interesting”. So, one day, I found myself immersing both feet in a trough of water and garra rufa fish.
