My dream is to be background dancer,” one of my students wrote, for an exercise in which I asked them to describe their dream
My dream is to be background dancer,” one of my students wrote, for an exercise in which I asked them to describe their dream. I found the modesty of their dreams wrenching. Even after I had told them the story of APJ Abdul Kalam, a modest boatman’s son, who became president of India, thinking of a dream for themselves was, well, a nightmare. They had never done it before; most are still at the “yeh allowed hai?” phase of Rani in Queen. Slowly, some said engineer and IPS officer, then, tentatively, dancer and artist. A girl wrote, “My dream is railway ticket collector and all-India tour” — I was most impressed.
From a session at Patuck Technical High School and Junior College
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These are 11th and 12th standard students of the ‘Minimum Competency Vocational Course’ (MCVC) department of the Patuck Technical High School and Junior College, Santa Cruz, headed by Adil Patuck and run by a Parsi trust. It is intended to give underprivileged youngsters practical vocational skills like auto engineering, electronics, medical lab technology — and they have an excellent record of job placements, they said. Some students had passed in all technical subjects, but could not get a certificate because they fell short in English by a couple or marks. So, I took the plunge to volunteer to teach English and Life Skills — to ‘Talk English and Walk English.’ Many are first-generation students — their parents have never been to school. They are children of vegetable vendors, rickshaw drivers and ‘junior artists’.
I discovered a delightful inventiveness of the English language, the natural privilege of first-time English learners. Some samplers: “My father is vegetable and my mother is non-vegetable.” “Brother is very noty and sister is very nice cooking.” “My father is very strick. My sister is honest and likely.” “My pet dogs comfort me with their cudlingness.”
Mr SM Singh, Vice Principal, observes that few of us have careers relating to our graduate study subjects; for poor families graduate education is an expensive waste. So, the MCVC gives them skills and jobs before they fall into the graduation trap. Earlier, when I had wanted to make a donation to the school, he had said, “Madam, please come and see what we do. Then if you want, you donate.” Nobody had ever said that to me, and I was immediately drawn by his integrity. Since then, I have been grateful for the opportunity to teach, and to appreciate how much I take for granted — roti, kapda, makan, the English language, the luxury of having a dream.
My experience in teaching cinema and journalism over two decades hasn’t quite prepared me for these youngsters, I’m stumbling along. I asked them to write a diary about their families, their daily routines, their dreams, their biggest problems, their first loves. I asked them to draw a neighbourhood map connecting their area to the first step of their dream — a police station for an IPS officer, a maidan for a footballer. More classes are to follow — on etiquette, and career guidance with alumni having good jobs. I am moved by their innocence, yet marked by maturity. For ‘my biggest problem’, one girl wrote, “Loving in young age. This is very big headache.” “My father is very strict, but in that strictness he loves us,” wrote another, both rather perceptive and articulate. They hunger for affection, guidance, a kind word. “Bye, Miss,” some of them chorused lingeringly, at the end of a class. It was with such affection and longing; you would want no other reward. Mara batya ghanela hoy, as my friend Falguni puts it — my joy multiplies with sharing.
Meenakshi Shedde is South Asia Consultant to the Berlin Film Festival, award-winning critic, curator to festivals worldwide and journalist. Reach her at meenakshishedde@gmail.com
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