What’s the public in public education?

July 4, 2010

Saturday morning I sat at Ellen Sharma Memorial Matriculation Higher Secondary School waiting for the 6th standard students to arrive for our field trip to Mahabalipuram heritage site.  Students trickled in from about 7:45 am onwards.  A low-key mood prevailed on this morning that threatened a coming sun-filled, heat- intense day. As more students arrived, the mood brightened, the students ran about saying ‘Good Morning, Sir’ over and over again and many offering me some of the candy they were buying at the school’s little outdoor snack hut.  The 8ththrough 12th standard students had class that day, but the 6th standard students were on holiday—except the group coming along with me on this part of my Fulbright-Nehru project.  As the time to board buses approached, the teachers quickly organized the excited bunch of meandering students (all, of course, in uniform) and counted off.  Fifty of the expected fifty-two students showed up on this day-off Saturday holiday.  All carried tins of lunch and bottled of water.  They lined up quickly, well-behaved sitting in the dirt and soon we boarded and were off—one bus for girls, one for boys.  I sat with the boys.

As the boys sang snippets of Tamil film songs, I chatted about world football with one of the teachers.  A good day seemed in the making, for this unknown adventure I had designed courtesy of the American and Indian governments.  Driving up to the rock cliff carvings of Mahabalipuram elicited a shout from the boys and we disembarked right near the famous Arjuna’s Penance (which, as far as I am concerned, is really about Ganga, but you’ll have to Google that for more information).  I was immediately accosted by local guides wishing to lead me around the site.  ‘What?’ I wished to say, ‘Can’t see that I am traveling with a huge group of children?’  I didn’t, of course, because if you recognize their presence, you’ll not be left alone.  Ignoring another human may be hard, but…

The six teachers (four women and two men) and I got the students prepared—caps and backpacks on, two lines each of boys and girls, an overview of our task for the morning—and we found a shady area near the rock cave of focus and sat the students down in their pre-assigned groups and began our endeavor.  Two groups at a time, in rotating fashion, entered the shallow rock cave, each group assigned a stone carving to observe and investigate.  The students examined, photographed and discussed what they noticed, heavily prompted by me and the teachers.

Now, I need to say that the whole point focused on the students interpreting what they observed.  Although the carvings contain well-known Hindu gods and goddesses in recognizable poses, many of these children are not familiar with these more archeological representations, knowing mostly modern film and cartoon representations.  So my hope with this project is to spurn a little interest in heritage and mythology by guiding the students to create dramatizations of their own interpretations of the carvings.  This, in turn, will ideally make them interested in understanding what stories the original authors of the carvings intended.

In reality, many tourists and local guides came through while we were there, talking about and discussing the various gods and stories.  So the children got a little boost.  Or some did.  I won’t fool you here.  There were the inevitable students who were hardly paying attention to anything but each other (and a little of the inappropriate manipulation that had been done to the carvings).

This is when a problem came to light.  Suddenly a couple of the teachers were in concentrated conversation with a couple of people with ID tags.  Apparently, although confusedly, permission should have been obtained so the students could visit this heritage site.  From what I could gather, as I tried to stay very focused on the students and their ongoing work, the students were ‘in the way of the public’ and since this is a public site, the public needed access to interact with the rock carvings.  Hmm, I thought, the ‘public.’  How do we define the ‘public’ when here are public school students interacting with the stone carvings.  I also wish to add that several groups of visitors and families visited the site as my students sat, writing about the friezes.  Every one of those groups asked what we were doing and expressed their joy that these children were engaged in studying Indian heritage.  Only the ‘officials’ seemed to have a problem.  Public school students were in the way of the public visiting a public site.

So, I dragged my heels as much as I could as two of our teachers went to seek permission which, we soon found out, needed to be obtained at an official office in Chennai, about 2 hours drive away.  We had to move the students to a different spot.  I continued to have the students visit the carvings, in small groups, and in deference to what I suppose is the ‘real’ public, so they could finish the visit successfully.  Much to their credit, the kids never blinked.  They followed along with me cheerfully and excitedly.

When I called my archeologist friend, she sounded surprised.  She’d never heard of such permission.  Fifteen minutes later she returned my call, having investigated the problem.  No such permission was needed or existed.  So, the teachers and my archeologist friend decided to write up letters explaining the purpose of the endeavor so the next batch of students I bring won’t suffer the same interruption at this public site.

At lunch, one of the teachers was chatting with one of the officials.  At that point it came out that they thought I was a tour guide, making money off of the students and was interrupting the ‘free’ public’s access to the images.  One person whispered that the officials probably were looking for a few rupees on the side.

The day ended with lunch and a bus ride back to school.  I rode with the girls this time. They tried to teach me Tamil, most unsuccessfully, but applauded my efforts generously.  Then they got caught up doing imitations of Tamil cinema dances.

I have seen the dramatic side of life, and of my students.  For my students, this will help me cajole them to higher levels of accomplishment. I’ve now witnessed their theatrical energy.