Pratham in Mukundpur

Pratham in Mukundpur Village

By Pia Brar

“Water is a changing form. It can transform from solid, to liquid, to gas,” chanted the room of twenty class-seven students at J. C. Gaur Public School in Mukundpur, Delhi.

All forty eyes stared up at the flat screen TV positioned on the stained, dull-grey wall as it played an interactive science video from the WebBox. This is part of the “digital classroom” initiative implemented by Pratham and funded by Vodafone Foundation. These videos are used for both teacher training and content development within the classroom. They are currently available in English, but are soon to be accessible also in Hindi.

With the start of the video, the room transformed from a dull, dusty, concrete space to a cartoon world filled with ice-cubes, flowing rivers and misty landscapes. The children no longer repeated sentences in a monotone manner but instead eagerly asked questions about what was being shown on the screen. The video encouraged them to ask the important when’s, where’s, why’s, and how’s to get a thorough understanding of each topic. 

A similar reaction was seen a few kilometres away when we entered the village’s Urban Learning Center run by Pratham. Colourful paper cutouts made by the teachers and students themselves covered every inch of the building’s walls to present a stimulating environment.  Little girls in flowery skirts, lush green trees, shining stars, birds, fish, and even tigers were everywhere. A happy contrast to the grey scaled school.

When we sat down in a room full of children to watch another video, this time during a math class, we saw the return of the eager eyes. The children giggled as the video explained ratios by comparing the size of a cartoon giraffe to that of a cartoon rabbit. They thought intensely, sitting in silence as they worked out how much cheaper the mango ice cream was compared to the milk one.

Ten year old, Boby, explained that by coming to the learning centre and through the use of the WebBox videos, he is not only being taught science and math but he is also learning English.

“I like that,” he said with a smile, “and I also want to learn how to read better.” By saying this, Boby shared the view of multiple other students who come to the centre after school for free supplemental learning.

Nasreen, a staff member at the Urban Learning Center explained, “In schools there are just not enough teachers, and therefore they cannot give adequate attention to the students, and so the students come here”.

These extra classes at the centre help to ensure that the children are learning, as the teachers are able to understand the needs of each child and help him or her work on specific skills in a more relaxed atmosphere.

ASH at Pratham

The American School of The Hague visits Pratham

By Pia Brar

An ASH student drawing a crocodile for the students.

A group of ten international class eleven students from the American School of The Hague (ASH) arrived in Delhi last week to work with Pratham’s Urban Learning Center in Usmanpur, Old Delhi. ASH annually collaborates with Pratham to send a group of students to work in an Urban Learning Center in India.

The high schoolers worked with Pratham from February 18^th to the 21^st, during a four-day program where they taught the children singing, dancing and art to which they responded extremely enthusiastically. The halls and colourful classrooms echoed with the sound of children learning the words to ‘The Wheels on The Bus’ or the stomping of their feel as they practiced the ‘Shake Shake Dance.’

Ligia, an ASH student, helping students present drawings.

On the fourth day, the students gathered together to present what they had learned. The first group, ‘Art’, presented pictures of policemen, doctors, and lawyers that they had drawn in answer to the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” For this assignment, the ASH students emphasized the lesson that with constant hard work and dedication, a child can become whatever he/she wants to be.

The singing group then sang ‘Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes’ on the top of their lungs to show that they had learned the English words for each body part.

When the dance group came on, they impressed the audience by opening with their impressive breakdancing moves. They then pumped up the energy in the room by showing how skilfully they could twist and shake their bodies to the music.  

ASH and Pratham students dancing.

Though the interaction between the two groups of students was for a limited amount of time, they became extremely attached and no body wanted to say goodbye. The Pratham students begged the high schoolers to stay by reasoning, “If you stay for one month we’ll become fluent in English!” Then when the time came for the ASH students to finally leave, tears streamed down each of their faces as thank you cards and hugs were exchanged. Little hands and Colourful sleeves stuck out of every window to wave them goodbye as they walked to their bus.

The ASH students then travelled to the Delhi Headquarters to meet Pratham’s CEO and Co-Founder, Dr. Madhav Chavan, and reflected on their experience while in India. They shared with him how privileged they now felt after have seen this 'other world' where education is not taken for granted and how being involved in Pratham’s work had been a life-changing experience.

The ten ASH students with a group of Pratham students.

Chattisgarh Education Programs

Chattisgarh: Living On Hope 
By Chandrika Rathore

Ever since I started work at Pratham, which was almost six months ago, I’ve been particularly keen to visit its education programs in Chhattisgarh – the small state in Central India that was born out of Madhya Pradesh. Its people, after all, have long had to endure the struggle between the government and the Naxals and I was eager to see how these programs would run amidst such menace.

Prior to my visit, the only ideas I had about the socio political affairs of the state were from what I had read and heard. Based on that limited information, I had formed strong biases (best left undeclared) that came out in the endless debates I had with friends and acquaintances.

Hence I looked forward to a visit hoping to better understand the situation in the state. In retrospect, I think I had been little naive to believe that this short visit would all so simply wipe away my doubts and bring me back with a crystal clear viewpoint.

What I did come back with, however, was a rather pleasant perspective, even if not with answers to all my questions; and the realization that this was enough for the time being. It would be wrong, maybe even unfair to believe in the possibility of understanding a situation of this nature in such little time, with such little interaction with the people there. It would be an insult to the atrocities the common man has faced in Chattisgarh and most of all, it was impossible.

During my four-day visit, I had several questions and fortunately, I had for company, a colleague from Mumbai who was revisiting with me, Swamiji - the Unicef program head and Papuji who tirelessly drove us around, through unfriendly terrains. They were knowledgeable about the affairs of their state. I wanted to know their views for they would also, in some way or the other, reflect the views of people they knew: who did the people of Chhattisgarh sympathize with? But as is the case with most things, nothing was black and white. Even so, while Swamiji came forward in his support for the government, Papuji was quick to establish that he disagreed.

Along the journey, which was always at an average of three to four hours, wherever we went, I noticed that Chhattisgarh had a large number of schools. On the first day while driving from the district headquarter of Jagdalpur to Bastar, we saw a huge campus coming up – it boasted the kind of infrastructure you get to see in big cities. It was an ‘education hub’ the government was setting up. That clubbed with the positive comments from my companions on the collector and other government officials was indicative of the government’s resolve to improve the quality of education in the state.

Our first stop was at a school in Bastar district. Unlike schools I’ve visited in other states, here, I found the children to be weary of strangers. They did not welcome our presence and were hesitant in engaging with us. “Some of them have been exposed to violence at this age;” explained Swamiji, on noticing the apparent concern on my face. However, as soon as the teachers started conversing with them, the gloom in the classroom turned into cheer.

The two ashramshals (boarding school) that we visited next told the same story. The blank expression on the children’s faces in the initial moments of our entry was a norm I wasn’t accustomed to. We had spent a full day and I had noticed a fairly large number of children whose first reaction was worrisome.

And so, as the sun set on Baster that night I could feel the restlessness inside me rising.  I couldn’t help myself despite the inkling that the rationale in my feelings was frail. However, this inkling reinstated by my colleague compelled me to broaden my observation, lest I miss the bigger picture.

The next day in Dantewada – a troubled zone that lies quite close to Naxal inhabited areas – I understood the challenges faced by teachers in Chhattisgarh. Most of them have to travel very long distances to get to work and often through deserted places, which are hotbeds for Naxal activities. The Naxals often kidnap people who they suspect might be in touch with the army and the police. Though in case of incorrect suspicions they let go of the person, needless to say that the trauma stays.  In such a situation, the determination of the teachers is commendable.

Whichever school I visited, I found the teachers to be particularly driven. The children felt safe in their presence. I noticed more closely that day how beautifully they succeeded in making the children comfortable despite our presence.

One of the teachers explained how schools in the interiors of Chattisgarh are neither visited often by outsiders nor have children coming from secure backgrounds, hence the apprehension in interacting with strangers.

Although nothing had changed, I retired that night much calmer, with a newfound respect for the teachers and volunteers who work there. This admiration only increased the next day, when Swamiji organized a visit to Reddy in Bijapur. He felt that it was essential to see how the classes were being run in extremely sensitive areas such as Bijapur.

After crossing five CRPF checkpoints, we finally reached Reddy, where men in uniform enquired about the purpose of our visit. On hearing Swamiji’s explanation, one of them responded with a smile, “Acha lagta hai ki aap log yahan tak aate hain, aapka kaam dekhne ke liye. Warna yahan toh koi nahi aata hai” Reddy was unlike any village we’d been to before: a semi warzone, it had bunkers, checkpoints and edgy villagers sitting along the road.

We were all a little tense and I wondered about the teachers who took this journey every single day and the children who grew up in this environment.

As we entered the school which was all of two big rooms – the children stood up to greet us, once again, with a serious face and a soft voice but that did not make me anxious anymore.

Once the teachers helped break the ice, we engaged them in few math problems and reading exercises which they seemed to enjoy. When I asked the teachers how they managed to run classes in such a tense environment, they explained that no one has a problem with education programs.  “padhai ke kaam se kisiko koi problem nahi hai, bas aate jaate time thoda daar toh lagta hi hai.” 

We had to leave Reddy soon as the road leading out would shut post six but not before I’d taken a few pictures of the kids, who by now had opened up to us and turned into a snap-happy lot. 

This was the end of day three and our visits of the schools. On our way back Swamiji narrated a heart wrenching story about how he lost a loved one to the wrath of Chattisgarh, with a poise that made me feel weak; and as though he was continuing the same story he went on to ask us what we thought of the schools and classes we’d visited in the past three days. It took me a while before I could answer.  

It was in this moment that I realized what I found great about the people in Chhattisgarh; it was the importance they gave to education, despite the trouble they are engulfed by. The calm and hope that echoed in their voices was a validation of their determination.

Even in an environment of such strong mutual distrust and suspicion, when it came down to education, everyone – from the government and the army to the locals and the Naxals – was on the same page and encouraging of it; and if this continued one can only hope that maybe it is education that eventually gives peace a chance in Chattisgarh, both ideally and realistically.