School Visit: Madantoosi School

Summary: By far the most frustrating visit I have had to date, the visit to Madantoosi exposed some of the key issues DSH is working to solve, including teacher attendance and teaching methods. Additionally, the test we deployed to evaluate student’s comprehension post-DSH shed light on the fact that we’re operating within the confines of a system that rewards rote memorization rather than critical thinking, though we’re (very) slowly making headway in changing the system.

Madantoosi (~1.5 hours by car from the office) is the only government school in our current local network, though it’s effectively another one of Urvashi’s pawns. The school has adopted DSH from the beginning, going on its fourth year. It has two sets of equipment; one for the lower school, and the other for upper school. However, this was a sobering visit for me, and it raised a number of critical issues.

DSH Testing Methods: Our goal for this visit was to evaluate the students on how much they learned from the DVDs, and we did this by deploying tests developed by the model teachers. We tested grades 5-8 on English and science. Looking at the English test, I noticed that some of the questions were unfair and didn’t seem to test understanding / comprehension at all. Below are two examples, the issues they raised, and the resulting discussion with Tanuja:

Sample Question: “What year was Florence Nightingale born?” To me, this seems to test memorization of dates rather than English. This, however, assumes that students have a basic understanding of English. What if we ‘grade’ the paper based on whether or not they can construct a sentence that appropriately answers this question, rather than whether they get the date right? Perhaps then that becomes an English test.

Instruction: “Rearrange the words below to create a sentence.” Why are we asking students to memorize a sentence and recite it at will? (I still disagree with this type of question, and will try to change it in future testing.) This raised the bigger question about the current goals of DSH. Are we conforming to the existing institution, which tests students on memorization rather than critical thinking? If success is defined by the students’ performance on the board examinations, then we have to conform to the system. To succeed in this system (i.e., get into IIT), students must memorize and recite. Until the system changes, we’re trying our best to work within the confines, increasing the students’ knowledge base and understanding of material beyond the subpar, minimalistic state curriculum. Furthermore, DSH is changing the common perception of teaching as a pedantic endeavor by using teachers that encourage class participation and two-way interaction. I’ve also noted that for the most part, students are encouraged not to take notes in sessions conducted with DSH, as note taking encourages memorization over true comprehension.

Teacher attendance: Five teachers for 8 classes, and this is with full teacher attendance (one is on maternity leave, with no substitute coming anytime soon). Additionally, the following experience made (and continues to make) me want to pull my hair out. Rahul was giving me a tour of the school, and we ended up at the second and third grade classrooms. I asked, “Where is the teacher?” He looks behind us and, motioning toward the teacher who had been tagging along and chatting with us, says, “He is.” “Why is he not teaching?” Rahul shrugs and simply says, “Because we’re here.” This whole time, I thought he taught one of the classes currently taking our test. According to Rahul, he’s actually one of the better teachers who interacts well with his students. Why he would not teach his two classes (he is responsible for both 2nd and 3rd grade) because we’re there is beyond me. Somehow, that makes sense to folks around here.

Teaching methods: That we were deploying tests to classes that regularly use DSH meant I had the opportunity to observe a regular class in operation. The only class with a teacher (see above) was 1st grade, and I tried to make myself invisible (ha!) in the back of the classroom. This is what I saw: each student bringing a notebook to the teacher, who stood by the door writing letters of the Hindi alphabet for students to copy. On the chalkboard was text written in Hindi that the students had memorized. A designated leader carried a stick and called on students to come up and recite the text, with the rest of the class repeating (to a certain extent). This student teacher was on a power trip like I had never seen before; I saw her hit other students on the head for not listening to her. In the 30+ minutes I was there, I didn’t for even one minute see the teacher “teach,” as I understand the word to mean.

Not seeing the class going anywhere, I started engaging Assa, the quiet girl I was sitting next to. Other students noticed and brought their books to show me (as if I were their teacher). Nadeem proudly “read” the Hindi alphabet to me. Other children demonstrated their English ability by reciting the alphabet. Yet when I pointed to a random letter, few could read it. A few ingenious students started at the top of the page they had memorized, “J, K, L, M…M!” Others giggled in shame. So, they know their ABC’s by heart, but they can’t read. (Reminds me of what I’m doing with Hindi.)

It’s very easy to get disheartened by experiences like this. On the other hand, it gives more reason to push harder and be invigorated by the work we are doing, because if we can execute effectively and expand our operations, we can, in the long run, make a difference. Maybe not in these children’s lives, but in future generations. Education doesn’t have to, and shouldn’t, be like this. Children deserve so much more; we should not, and cannot, accept status quo.