Showing posts with label education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label education. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Fighting for the Future

Summary: Gender inequality in education is always a hot topic, especially in rural villages. However, abstract conversations are insufficient in preparing you for dealing with the sense of learned helplessness first-hand, as I recently experienced on a trip to Mauthri.

Lately, I’ve been going into the field with Tanuja to talk to the teachers and students about DSH, as part of an effort to build an impact story for DSH. These visits have generally been very uplifting, even when taking the testimonials with a few grains of salt. Once in awhile, though, you encounter a roadblock, and hear things that make your heart sink.

Our latest visit was with Mauthri, an NGO-run center where girls from the village learn and do embroidery as a way to earn some extra money for their families. Their age ranges from 14-18, and they come from such poor backgrounds that in some households, the girls will not get an evening meal if they don’t work in the field. Through working, they earn just enough for food in the morning and in the evening. As such, these girls generally haven’t had formal education; through DSH they get minimal education in English, math, and science while they do their embroidery work.

The following is a profile of one of the girls and what she had to say:
Deepshikha has been doing embroidery at Mauthri for the past five years or so. Earlier, she attended a nearby government school until Class 8, but she cannot appear in school (or at the exams) for Class 9 because she has not received her transfer certificate and mark sheet from Class 8. Until her father takes the time to pick up these forms from her former school, she cannot continue her studies. When asked what she wants to do later with her studies, she responds, “What can I do with this level of study? I’ll try to study until class 12, because the school is just until then. And I’m in a village, where would I go for further studies? There are some girls who leave the village, but I don’t think I can. I don’t even know how to ride a cycle.” She continues with her family background and their education levels: “My father is a graduate in law, my older brother is a graduate and is working in Lucknow, and my younger brother is studying. I am the one sitting around – why does it happen that boys can get educated while girls are left behind?”
Nilu, another girl at Mauthri, shared similar sentiments:
Nilu studies at home and appears for her Class 9 exams, but doesn’t attend school, as (such is the state of the educational system that) her time can be better spent doing embroidery and earning for her family. She helps her younger brothers with their studies, claiming that “they are more intelligent than I am.” When asked about the possibility of pursuing education beyond class 12, she also states that as a female, it would be difficult to leave the village for studies.
When you spend your entire life in the village, it’s easy to confine your worldview to such, abiding by its rules and seeing only the opportunities that lie within. It’s frustrating to hear these girls crush their own dreams, make excuses for themselves, and accept the future imposed upon them by someone else.

It’s frustrating to me because I was lucky – I was born to parents who encouraged my dreams, in a society that respected my desires. I was encouraged to think for myself and push the boundaries every step of the way. And yet even I, with all of my opportunities and resources, still make excuses for (and to) myself, just as the girls do.

Perhaps it’s that I expect these girls to be stronger than I could ever be, fighting the fights I never had to fight. But this is a fight that needs to be fought – if not by them, then by their children. And I’d rather it be now, because I’m sure that when the time comes, their children will have a different battle they’ll need to wage. Perhaps by then, my own children will be fighting with them, for them.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Teacher Trainings, Exposed

Summary: A recent discovery found that teacher trainings are nothing but a ruse that allows government school teachers to skip school and chat with their peers.

Every year, government school teachers are required to attend 20 days of official, government-sponsored training. We just started working with a handful of government schools, so upon hearing that the teachers had been pulled out (without replacements) for 6 days of training, one of our staff members decided to see how these trainings are run.

We entered with low expectations; over the course of this year, my idealism has learned to cower in the face of reality. However, we quickly realized that even our low isn’t low enough. Here’s the low-down of why:
  • The trainer herself is just a teacher from one of our DSH spoke schools.
  • In the 2.5 hours coworker “X” is present, the trainees (government school teachers) do nothing but gossip and chat with one another. After about an hour, the trainer asks X if he’s ready to give his presentation, assuming that’s the reason he’s in attendance.
  • When X asks to see the program outline, trainer says she doesn’t have it and sends him one of the head government officials, who also says she doesn’t have it and sends him to her boss. Her boss, assumed to have the program outline (the veracity of this assumption is moot), is not even on site.
My former self would’ve assumed that this was a one-off situation; I now know better. This is the fourth day of this training, and to still not have the program outline anywhere on site is ridiculous and inexcusable. Never mind the fact that the trainers are likely unqualified to train their peers, and uninterested in doing more than participating in the gossip session.

This is just another example of a mediocre idea (pulling teachers out of schools to ‘train’ them) that fails completely in implementation.

Reminds me of a quote that goes something like this: “Which is the greater human evil – laziness or indifference?” Unfortunately, both are equally detrimental to the effectiveness of the DSH model, and we haven’t yet figured out a way to overcome either of these challenges. I suppose both can be overcome with the appropriate incentive system, though it does make you wonder whether you really want a teacher to have external (as opposed to internal) motivation for teaching.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Nipped in the Bud

Summary: A new partnership between DSH and district-wide teacher training colleges presents an opportunity for DSH to improve the quality (and type) of training teachers get even before they enter the classroom for the first time.

Imagine a factory that manufactures teachers and places them in schools. At the government school level, these are called teacher training colleges, or DIETs (the District Institute of Education and Teaching).

Current DSH efforts focus on working with teachers who have already been placed (and theoretically trained). However, so long as the manufacturing facility remains unchanged, teachers will continue to be inadequately trained, and the need for interventions like DSH will remain. And many nonprofits would prefer to run themselves out of business, meaning solve the problem they set out to solve so that they become redundant.

Now, being adequately trained does not directly correlate with more training. Currently, teachers in the field are required to have at least 20 days of in service training per year, and trainings often occur while school is in session. These trainings are not only ineffective, but are also actually detrimental, taking teachers out of the classroom without providing a viable substitute.

To improve the quality of training these teachers get even before they first set foot into the classroom, DSH is intervening in pre-service trainings through a recent partnership with DIETs in twelve districts. Through this program, lecturers at these DIETs will use DSH videos to demonstrate effective teaching practices in an actual classroom setting. Furthermore, the teachers-to-be can use the lessons to improve their own subject matter knowledge (especially English).

This program presents a fundamentally different way of using DSH lessons. Instead of mediating the video, lecturers will lead a discussion analyzing the lesson from different pedagogical perspectives. In this way, both lecturers (many of whom have little or no actual teaching experience) and teachers-to-be will benefit.

I truly appreciate the versatility of our content and the noble goal of this initiative. However, my observations in the field have also told me that knowledge and ability of teachers is only half the battle; the rest lies in motivation, or lack thereof.

I am hopeful, if skeptical, about our current ability to influence the latter. Two observations from the DSH-led two-day training held for selected lecturers inform my opinion: (1) The first day, scheduled to begin at 10 am, did not commence until well past 11 am, and (2) The best-ranked session of the entire training was a singing energizing activity.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Maternity Leave and Don’t Come Back

Summary: Maternity and child-care leave benefits are examples of the way the UP government squanders money and encourages teacher apathy.

The outrageousness continues. Not only are government school teachers paid a ridiculous sum (Rs. 22,000 per month, vs. the Rs. 1500 per month some other teachers get) for not doing much, but they’re also given outrageous fringe benefits.

In a recent visit to one of our village schools, Randy asked about the prolonged absence of one of the teachers, which resulted in the following discovery: In addition to six months of maternity leave, a teacher is given two years’ paid leave for child-raising. This teacher has had two children, and hence gets five years off, with pay; this figure amounts to Rs. 1.3 million (about US $30,000).

I sure hope there’s a maximum number of years a teacher can take off on this program, because this program is a triple-whammy; it is (1) encouraging folks to have more children, (2) incentivizing teachers to stay away from their jobs, and (3) understaffing schools because of the exorbitant amount being paid out to teachers on leave.

Might I be bold enough to suggest to the government that there might be a better use of those resources? With Rs. 13 lakhs (Rs. 1.3 M), DSH can reach over twenty schools and 2000 students.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Teacher Training

Summary: All in all, the 3-day teacher training program recently held for new DSH teachers (mainly government school teachers in the Chinhat study) was a success. Teachers were present, and the program went smoothly. The real test is whether the teachers will take the message and lessons from the training to their practice.

Last week, DSH hosted a three-day teacher training, marking the official start of the Chinhat Study. The Chinhat Study is a 2-year study funded by the University of Washington to evaluate the impact of the DSH program in 11 government schools. Both Class 3 English and Class 5 Math are being evaluated at each school, one being the control and the other being the experimental group.

The training was conducted in Hindi and covered topics such as introduction to DSH, characteristics of effective teaching, sensitization to gender issues, and subject-specific teaching.

Attendance was high (~90%), which was a great sign. Less promising, however, was the “Prerna Mentorship” session, where teachers sat in and observed live classes held at Prerna, a high-caliber school for neighborhood slum girls.

After 15 minutes of shuffling around, teachers were finally settled into the respective rooms. Less than 5 minutes later, the teachers excused themselves and marched back into the other side of the school, where training had been held. Seeing us on the balcony, they gestured, “We’ve had enough and are heading back.”

I’m glad we cut the originally planned week-long Prerna Mentorship Program to just 30 minutes, but apparently even that proved to be too much for this lot. They had the guts to walk out of a session and the arrogance to think they could call the shots.

I find the sense of entitlement that comes with job stability and 20,000 Rupees per month very upsetting.

Friday, July 24, 2009

Starting Off on the Left Wrong Foot

The 2009-2010 year for government schools officially started on July 1, 2009. However, this being India, no date is official unless it’s a holiday; hence, many schools generally aren’t operational until August.

To try to understand the problem, I’ve found that the issue can be traced to both “the top” and “the bottom.”
“The Top” (The Government): Governments everywhere are known for dragging their feet, but this is ridiculous.

The state (UP Board) curriculum hasn’t changed much from year to year (for better or for worse), and textbooks are usually updated only with incremental changes. This year, however, the curriculum has been completely revamped; for example, English has been incorporated into the curriculum earlier (Class 1 vs. Class 3). It’s almost a month into the school year and many of the new textbooks have yet to be released. Such circumstances can demoralize even the well-intentioned teachers, and provide little more than excuses for the less well-intentioned ones.

“The Bottom” (The Students): Student attendance is abhorrently low in this first month. In the weeks leading up to the new school year, teachers are expected to visit the villages to (1) remind families that school will be starting up again soon, and (2) recruit new students. Even with these efforts (if they are indeed undertaken), teachers have to either spend the first few weeks of the new year corralling students and bringing them to school, or wait out the storm.

Regular attendance will finally pick up in August, but at that point festivals and holidays will force schools to close. Of the first 15 days in August, the school will be open for only about half of them, once again causing the recurring low student attendance.
Without government support, the educational system in India will continue to be muddled with such basic problems. The intent to overhaul and “beef up” the paltry curriculum is a good start, but the delays are costing both students and teachers valuable school time. The outrageous number of government-mandated holidays also undermine efforts to provide students with a consistent education, and sends mixed messages about the importance of education.

To borrow a quote from Derek Zoolander, “How can we be expected to teach children to learn how to read if they can't even fit inside the building?”

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

The State of Education, or Education of the State

Summary: Government schools highlight the dire state of education in India. Teachers are at the heart of many of my key grievances.

As in the U.S., education in India* is complicated and interweaves a range of issues. India, however, takes these issues to a new level. In particular, government schools epitomize the disturbing in infuriating state of education here. A sampling of my personal grievances (many of these issues are intertwined):

Lack of qualified teachers: The government has made a point to build a school within 1 km of every village, as many of those students do not have any means of traveling much further. This, with the free mid-day meal, is meant to increase student attendance. A consequence of this is the dearth of qualified teachers for these schools.

Misdirected funds: Insufficient funds is not a problem for government schools; rather, misdirected funds is. This happens on two levels:

(1) Funds spent on low priority items: At one of the Chinhat schools, funds were directed toward building another kitchen, even though one was already in operation. Why not pay for books or something more useful?

(2) Unintended consequences of expenditures: Ironically, teacher training is one culprit of teacher absenteeism. As in an organization, schools use all the funds given, lest the budget get cut the following year as a result of prudent spending. When a school has excess funds at the end of the school year (as Nandpur does), one option is to send teachers to training. However, this comes at the cost of lost time in schools.

Inappropriate job description: Government school teachers are first and foremost government officials. They get paid handsomely (often significantly more than private school teachers), and are often pulled out for other official government posts such as election duty. Of course, the concept of substitute teachers does not exist yet.

High teacher salary: An unintended consequence of high salaries for government school teachers is that: (1) it often attracts the wrong crowd, and (2) psychologically speaking, it can change intrinsic motivation into extrinsic motivation. Many government teachers are overpaid and underworked.

Teachers lack accountability: Many government school teachers are at best indifferent about their jobs. Combined with lack of accountability, this often translates into teacher absenteeism. Even teachers present at schools may choose to spend their day doing anything but teaching. However, because their students need to pass the government exams for them to maintain their jobs, they help their students cheat on exams. To “succeed” in school, teachers to not have to teach and students do not have to learn.

Institutionalized rote memorization: A student’s entire future rests on his / her score on an official exam that tests how much the student has memorized. (Imagine your SAT score being the sole criteria for college admissions.) The implications of this trickle down to the primary school level, where students are tested on what they can remember rather than how critically they can think. (This also makes teaching an easier feat, as it significantly lowers the bar that is “success.”)

With so many institutionalized and intertwined issues, education can be seen as a “lost cause” to the jaded. I, on the other hand, could not disagree more. I think it is the key to India’s future; many other problems (e.g., arranged marriage of pre-pubescent females) can be solved by educating its youth. All we can do is continue to do our best and chug along, looking toward a better future for India’s youth.

* Note: I have, possibly unfairly, generalized what I’ve seen and heard about schools in Lucknow / Uttar Pradesh to the rest of India.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

School Visit: Chinhat Schools (Nandpur and Salarganj)

Summary: As part of a 2-year study led by the University of Washington, DSH is expanding into 11 government schools (located in Chinhat) this coming school year. We’ve started filming teachers in these schools to assess the “before” situation. In our initial visit of two schools, I finally saw the bleak situation of education in village schools.

Holi is generally celebrated over two days, though many folks end up taking the entire week off. This means that although school is in session Friday and Saturday, students generally don’t show up until the following week.

DSH is launching in 11 government schools in the Chinhat region through a 2-year evaluative study funded by the University of Washington. We visited 2 of these schools on Saturday in hopes that we could film some of their classes (to document the “before intervention” state of teaching). Unfortunately both schools lacked the appropriate student population for filming . In Nandpur, not a single student was in attendance.

We tried again on Tuesday and arrived at Nandpur greeted by the sight of teachers congregating in the principal’s office. No reason; just because. We requested to film the 5th grade math and 3rd grade English classes. The math teacher then went outside, located the appropriate lesson (simple interest), led an exercise on the board, and walked away while the students copied it. Five minutes later, she returned to make sure students had copied the exercise correctly. (Though this was a class 5 lesson, class 4 students participated and obediently copied the board as well.)

Third grade English was even harder to watch. The teacher spent 5 minutes going through the numbers one through ten, writing the English word followed by the Hindi pronunciation and meaning. When he ran out of vertical board space at “seven,” he simply continued to “ten” verbally. Then he looked at Rahul with an expression that said, “What now?” He stopped and watched as the students copied the board. Unfortunately, it looked as if students were copying the English words as if it were art (the teacher wrote in half-cursive). Only with Rahul’s suggestion did the teacher check the copies, and even then it was a cursory sign-off.

Salarganj, the second school, wasn’t much better. Teachers were milling around when we arrived, with students quietly sitting outside. Again, only when we asked did the principal assemble the appropriate students (class 4 and 5) and teacher into the classroom for filming. This para-teacher* was equally clueless and started with an addition problem (e.g., 13595 + 2543). Look to Rahul for next steps. [Please continue.] Look through curriculum. Started a subtraction problem (as with numbers above). Look to Rahul, then curriculum. Started multiplication problem (e.g., 25456 x 45). Look to Rahul. Curriculum. Long division, at the end of which the teacher was saved by lunchtime. Keep in mind that this was 5th grade math.

We didn’t film class 3 English because the teacher was absent. They’ll call us when the teacher shows up.

I realize that our presence (as foreigners and with cameras) is very distracting and intimidating. But that’s no excuse for poor / no teaching. These children deserve an education; at the very least, they deserve to be inspired, and these teachers were less than inspiring. I am excited (and possibly overly idealistic) about the potential for DSH to make a difference in these schools.

* Note: A para-teacher is a teacher elected by the local village head. Unlike the government teacher, a para-teacher has lower / no credentials and receives a lower salary (on the scale of 3,000 versus 10,000 Rs a month). S/he is essentially a less qualified teacher who shares the same responsibilities as a teacher. Alas, the state of government village schools.

Monday, March 9, 2009

School Visit: Sahara City Homes

Summary: We have demoed and launched in a school for underserved children operated by Sahara City Homes.

We are launching in a school started as part of Corporate Social Responsibility of the housing department at Sahara City Homes. The conversation started in late December, and Rahul has contacted them every week for the past two months, to no avail. They finally returned his call last week, and we’ve since met with the folks and run a demo.

This school started last March, and is divided into two sections: a more advanced, “upper” level class, and a younger, “lower” level class. Sahara purchased the TV and DVD player on their own, and are using DSH to augment the quality of education they can provide to their children. (In all, they operate 16 schools for slum children around Lucknow; this is a pilot.)

The first visit (Saturday) was very embarrassing, as the DVD player was a local Indian model and wasn’t compatible with our DVDs. Video would run, but most chapters had no audio (yet a few did). We didn’t think to bring a DVD player with us, so we spent most of the class (a) trying to get the darn thing to work and (b) using a vocabulary lesson that made little sense in absence of the story. We agreed to come back today.

And come back we did, in full force with a full convoy of DSH employees. Eight of us in total (everyone in the office, minus Urvashi, Priyanka, and Roshan). We were determined to have a good demo and figure out what happened, and to generally see how things work. I’m happy to announce that we have now launched in Sahara City Homes. This demo consisted of Rahul running the class and demonstrating how to mediate using the DVDs. The next time we go back, we’ll coach the teacher through using the DVD.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

School Visit: Gangaganj

Summary: Gangaganj, a village private school, is where I first observed corporal punishment and exercises in silence since my arrival to Lucknow. I was unable to observe teaching quality, as we were testing the students and the scheduled DSH class was cancelled due to a scratched DVD. We are working to remedy this issue.

Referred by Madantoosi, Gangaganj is a village private school about 2 hours from Lucknow. In this particular visit, we distributed tests to several of the classes. A few points arose from this visit.

Reporting of Equipment Issues: One of the DSH classes we hoped to observe was cancelled because the DVD was scratched. (Who knows how long they’ve known about this?) This brings up two points.

(1) DVDs may not be the best long-term solution for DSH, as they’re not particularly durable. We’re currently looking at other viable cost-effective technologies that will allow us to realistically scale our model, but we’re still experimenting.

(2) Schools need a lot of attention and, given that DSH simply a “supplement” to regular teaching (teaching will continue with or without the DVDs), people often don’t take the effort to report equipment failures or scratched DVDs. To make sure we stay on top of the status at schools, we’re implementing processes that will allow us to contact schools every week, either by phone or in person.

Corporal Punishment: Knowing that corporal punishment is still prevalent in schools does not stop you from cringing when you witness it firsthand. Spreading the students out for the test (to prevent cheating), one teacher roughly held and rotated the head of one student to turn him around, topping it off with a smack on the head. I later saw the same teacher sitting downstairs reviewing the work of some students as they stood there; he whacked the students’ hands with a stick several times, presumably for wrong answers. I presumed my American lens was responsible for the unsettling feeling in my stomach, but I realized afterward through conversation that many folks in today’s society disapprove of such teaching methods. Beating children in schools are less common nowadays, but still very prevalent in many schools, especially in villages. Hopefully we can change this by providing teachers with tools for controlling their class in our trainings.

Exercises in Silence
: One of the more hilarious experiences of observations. Standing outside the 1st grade classroom, I noticed the teacher sitting in a chair in front of the classroom, and the energetic and restless students twisting and turning in their seats. I asked Tanuja, “What is the teacher doing? Why is he not teaching?” Tanuja’s response was, “He’s probably having them engage in an exercise in silence.” I was on the floor. Why? The closest thing we have to that is naptime in the U.S., and that is because we think the children will be grumpy if they miss their nap. This was different. The teacher wasn’t doing anything to keep them quiet – he was simply sitting. My own cynical assumptions told me that the teacher was lazy and was taking a break from teaching. But perhaps this happens across India, and is why students are so obedient and disciplined.

Saturday, February 28, 2009

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.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

School Visit: Kannar

Summary: The high quality of teaching at Kannar reinforces the role of DSH as a supporting actor. While most teachers can benefit from the DVDs, there is variation as to how the DVDs can be used (e.g., for experiments and demonstrations the teacher might not be able to perform live). Additionally, the decreased attendance at its afternoon tutoring program may provide DSH the opportunity to expand into a neighboring school.

Vidyasthali School, located in Kannar (~1 hour from the office by car), was founded by Urvashi and houses two sets of DSH equipment. Kannar currently uses DSH in two capacities: during the formal school and in an informal afternoon tutoring program open to the public.

We observed three classes at Kannar, and the quality of teaching was impressive. One teacher (science) only used the DVD for its demonstrations and for its resources (e.g., to show the class a picture of the human skeletal system). On her own, she was very effective and engaging, and related the material to the students. We need to recognize that in such situations, the teacher should not be forced to use and/or rely on the DVD, but rather to use it only as needed. One alternative, should we ever reach a point where a substantial number of teachers need DSH support only for demonstrations and pictures / resources, we can create a new set with only such material. As it stands, few teachers are of this caliber and the costs far outweigh the benefits of convenience for the teachers.

The afternoon program at Kannar is unique: two 11th grade students teach / tutor younger students; one teaches math, the other English. This program has suffered attendance problems as of late for several reasons: (1) the nearby feeder private school for this program decided to forbid its students from attending, (2) the students that joined the school mid-year had successfully caught up to the rest of the class, and (3) parents couldn’t mandate and enforce their children’s attendance. The second reason is actually a good outcome; as for the first, this provides DSH opportunity to approach (and embrace) the competing private school and offer its services. This may be a blessing in disguise after all.

It is, however, certainly ironic that a school whose aim is to educate children would forbid its students from supplementing their education (outside regular school hours, at that). How did they lose sight of this central mission of their operations?

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

School Visit: Springdale School

Summary: Springdale teaches kids through 4th grade, with the goal of feeding them into the formal school system at that point. It’s also where I first experienced first-hand teacher absenteeism and its implications for the students. DSH can be a powerful tool in these situations, if only we could get the substitute / a student to play the DVD.

Operating out of rooms donated by a school in Lucknow, Springdale exists as an afternoon program for nearby kids who otherwise do not attend school. The school runs from nursery through 4th grade, with the goal of getting kids up to par and feeding them into formal, local schools. Teachers are university students who work on a volunteer basis, and often do not show up when exam period approaches.

On this particular visit, the 2nd / 3rd grade teacher was absent, and the nursery school teacher was forced to take her place. She was planning on simply doing dictation, as she wasn’t comfortable teaching them actual content, but we insisted that she actually teach. (After all, why can you not teach, particularly when you have a DVD to use with the lesson already in place?) She ended up teaching the alphabet, as that was within her comfort zone. These kids had already done the alphabet, and they were all capable of reciting their ABC’s. I questioned their comprehension, however, when the principal sat in and probed the students. (Which is the letter “M”? What does “M” stand for?) Few of the students were able to identify letters without reciting the entire alphabet, and even fewer could rattle of sample words off the cuff.

I just don’t understand how you can operate a school where teachers can simply not show up. Then again, I think teacher absenteeism is a pretty substantial problem throughout government schools; I just haven’t seen it because DSH currently doesn’t really operate in government schools. Even in those cases, however, DSH can be a powerful tool, because the DVD can run not only a pretty good class, but it can also facilitate peer-to-peer teaching. It’s just a matter of getting schools to adopt it and simply play the DVD when a teacher doesn’t show up.

School Visit: Maivaya School

Summary: DSH runs and operates is latest addition, Mavaiya. While benefits of running and operating a school can be numerous (e.g., increased usage and effectiveness of DSH at the school), I currently believe that the costs are far higher and do not think that this is the appropriate long-term direction for DSH.

Maivaya, the newest addition to DSH, is the in-house name for a school founded for slum children in the Mavaiya neighborhood in Lucknow. SEWA had shut down its operations in the area, and DSH decided to rent a few rooms to start and operate our own school.

There were approximately 20 students of varying ages in second grade, learning the Hindi alphabet and the multiplication table. These kids attend school from 10-1 pm, after which they help their families as much as possible. Some of these children were mature beyond their years (e.g., a 6 year old taking care of younger siblings as a mother would). When we left the school, I saw one older but very bright girl, Sangita, on the street helping her mother do laundry. It was good to see, however, that the conditions these kids were in didn’t crush their spirits, as they were as fun as any I’ve interacted with.

Maivaya is a way for DSH to test its ability to grow through establishing brick-and-mortar schools. An additional benefit of DSH starting brick-and-mortar schools is that DSH is likely more readily adopted and incorporated into the school’s functioning if it’s there from the beginning. Also, because DSH has full control over Maivaiya, the school will be an important testing ground for programs or features we may want to launch in the future.

At the moment, I’m far from being convinced that DSH should grow through establishing schools, as that would pull us away from our core competence of content development and exponentially increase our operational costs.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

School Visit: SEWA (Self Employed Women’s Association) School

Summary: Situated in Lucknow, SEWA benefits tremendously from having a dedicated leader and enthusiastic students. In schools lacking a strong principal that holds teachers accountable, how do you reach beyond apathy to create a culture of care?

SEWA is a school for children whose mothers work for SEWA by doing chikan embroidery. Aside from Study Hall school (founded by Urvashi), SEWA is the best-resourced DSH school I’ve seen yet. (I say this simply because it’s in an enclosed building.) Students have benches that serve as chairs and desks, and classrooms are interconnected (i.e., rooms are separated by a wall but have no door, only a doorway on either side).

Its student population is mostly Muslim, and boy are these kids charming! I took some time out toward the end of our visit to interact with the students, and it turned into a performance where they showcased a very talented dancer, in exchange for which I had to sing a song. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star it is. End of story.
But that’s just the beginning of the DSH story. DSH has been at SEWA for 2-3 years now, and the teachers are some of the most dedicated teachers DSH has worked with. Before there was a room to safely keep the equipment, the equipment was housed in the office building next door, and teachers would walk to the office, watch these lessons and take notes before teaching their class. A big reason is because the principal of the school holds the teachers accountable and creates a “culture of care,” as Urvashi calls it.

A culture of apathy amongst teachers may be one of the biggest challenges DSH faces. How can you create similar “cultures of care” elsewhere, or rather, how can you expand your existing “culture of care” to influence the behavior of others? (For example, Teach for America has decided to tackle this by essentially making the “culture of care” a selection criteria for their candidate teachers.) When you don’t have the luxury to pick and choose the best and the brightest, what other tools can you use to break through the long-standing culture of apathy?

Friday, February 20, 2009

School Visit: Mauthri School

Summary: Located in a small village, Mauthri is an informal school run by an amazing woman. In addition to embroidering (for pay), the girls get minimal education through DSH. A major issue that arose is that most of the girls get married and leave the village within the year, prematurely ending their education.

Incredible women can be found everywhere, even in a small village outside of Lucknow. Kanta runs a nonprofit that teaches young women (ages ~14-16) the local Lucknow embroidery (chikan). Girls get paid for their four hours of work everyday, and Kanta has also adopted DSH to incorporate teaching into their time. (Kanta also independently runs an evening DSH / education program for the other village children.)

20 girls (+ DSH equipment + a small chair / table) sit on the floor in a very small room about the size of a soccer goal (if that) to learn math, English, and/or science every day. They have no books, no writing materials; they just have DVDs, a great attitude, and an amazing, caring teacher.


What’s particularly sad is that most of the girls will be married off within the year, after which they will be mainly confined to their homes and limited to the wishes of her husband. (Of the ~20 girls from last year, only 4 remain and are repeating last year’s lessons because the majority of the ‘class’ are new.) A small subset of children who are wed particularly young (around 9-10) will stay with their families until they’re old enough to leave the village.

This particular situation is particularly frustrating because it means that they only get a year’s worth of education before they leave. How can you keep these young women to continue their education, whether with Kanta or elsewhere? How can you fight the institution of marriage and the existing culture?

And, the more disturbing question: What is the value and importance of education when these folks never leave (or aspire to leave) the village, and learning things like reading and writing are secondary to understanding of farming crops and techniques?

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

School Visit: Educational Academy

Summary: My first site visit was to the Educational Academy, a small LKG-8 school located in the outskirts of Lucknow. This visit has further convinced me of the value of DSH to teachers and schools.

Yesterday, I followed Tanuja on a school visit to the Educational Academy in Kannar (the outskirts of Lucknow). This school, founded by Pratyush, houses village students in grades LKG-8 and is a relatively new DSH site. Classrooms are open-air (they have 3 walls and all open to the central ‘quad’), and two grades sit together in a single ‘room.’ Yet this is still better than many other schools; students had benches / desks and teachers show up. (Low bar, I know.)

It was great seeing DSH in action; we observed three different teachers use the equipment. (I would’ve loved to see a non-DSH class for comparison.) DSH does not want to replace the in-person teacher, but rather to mediate in the lesson and lead / demonstrate with effective teaching methods. Teachers are encouraged to teach according to the students’ pace, and should pause the recording frequently to test comprehension and interject with their own follow-up questions or examples.

To me, the value proposition of DSH is quite clear (intuitively). The question remains: Why would teachers / principals / schools not want to adopt it?