Showing posts with label anecdotes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anecdotes. Show all posts

Tuesday, 12 August 2014

How My School Taught Me To Be A Girl

Gender stereotypes that go on to define individuals start right in school, and must be questioned, says this deeply thoughtful post.
“pull up your socks, wear a longer skirt”
“don’t be so loud, don’t sound too bossy”
“wear a white hairband and oil your hair well”
“cross your legs. (you stupid girl), cross your legs”
“how dare you apply a deodorant again? You are such a stubborn brat”
_________
I went to a very good school in Delhi. And I start here by not being mistaken as one who ridicules the education she got from there. What my school also gave me are memories – of how my being a girl was reinforced day after day by the way I should conduct myself, the activities I should do, the groups I should join and most importantly, the way I should behave and dress.
Since the very beginning, I used to wonder why oiling my hair and putting a white hair band was a more important issue than me coming to school. I mean, common, we all know that there is no scientific proof to showcase how great a student who regularly oils her hair, has pigtails, and socks up till knees, is. But I saw everyday how often our female teachers ridiculed the girls who challenged any of these rules. I have strong images of the events that took place during school days in my head.
Once, I was called out by my teacher after a regular period in the class and yelled at for not sitting with my legs crossed. I was told how I was being a bad girl, inviting boys to lurk on me. I was not just yelled at, but thereafter was always looked upon with suspicious eyes. As a young girl in standard 7, it confused me how my sitting down unknowingly with legs open was a reason for my teacher to judge me as a person.
In another year, I was the class monitor. And often, told to indulge in the things I didn’t like but my class teacher did. One not-so-fine day, she was out there measuring the length of the skirts every girl wore in the class. And with a compass in her hand, opening the seam of the skirts from the bottom, if found not adhering the school/class norms.
I was asked to get hold of my classmate’s arms while my teacher openly un-sewed the seam of her skirt from the bottom in front of a class of 50 students. Scared of being punished, I did as I was told. Ashamed of how it all happened, I still sit down and wonder how the length of skirt, and public humiliation, was a symbol of discipline. How my female teacher never taught the boys to not stare at our legs but told us to hide our skin. How this all was a way of making us better adults.
Meanwhile, as years passed by, I questioned marks as much as I questioned the ways the system worked in the school. Over the years, I saw our teachers giving sore eyes to the girls who were seen talking a lot to the boys. Those who were too outspoken were shunned as rude and undisciplined. I never was a very brilliant, high-scoring student. I never knew why my mathematics teacher always found a way to shun the girls in front of the ‘talented’ mathematics genius boys our school was full of.
She  would often tell my mother how I would never make anything meaningful out of my life because I scored less in mathematics. Never appreciated for the other subjects I was good at. Acceptance in my school for being what you are was always low. A lot of the teachers appreciated the brilliant “rote-heads” who puked everything they were taught verbatim on their exam answer sheets.
A lot many times I sat there wondering why my class teacher would often tell me to be little less outspoken and little more committed to learning. Learning which meant less creativity, innovation, and passion. She never understood that to me, mathematics never gave any excitement.
In my last year at school, I became the head girl – the one responsibility that was only given to the top scoring girls in the school. Leadership, after all, was only linked to those who were either teachers’ favorites or scored high. I never understood why and how this happened but I do remember the smile on that one teacher from my school who always pushed me to pursue my dreams, cherishing my creativity.
When I stood there on the stage, our school principal proudly putting my Head Girl badge on my shirt told me, “You better study well. This badge does not mean you don’t study”. That last year at school I was told again and again, silently and loudly, in front of many, that I was rude, stubborn, with attitude, and bossy – because I had a responsibility to carry. Marks never excited me. They made me sad, because for me, they were how my surroundings defined failures and success.
When I completed my school, I got admission into one of the best colleges in the city. Happy to share this information with my teachers, when I went back, I was told how unlucky and average I was because I didn’t get admitted to any engineering or medical schools like the boys of my class did. “This course is futile for you”, said the mathematics teacher. I smiled, because I realized I was out of this cycle of constantly being reminded that being a girl meant being less.
Along with carrying out cherished memories from the school days, I carried a burden of gender stereotyping. It was not that every girl conformed to the socially acceptable roles that the school defined for them. But the way they were either accepted or rejected created a lot of confusion and imbalance in the minds of many who wished to differ from the norms.
Sex education was never given. Neither were we given any counselling during our adolescent days. Those girls, who talked about it, became the talk of the school. Instead of talking about equality and respect, we were taught to keep our instincts off in the name of conduct. Those girls who had short haircuts were taken to be like boys.
A lot of the reports have suggested that children learn gender from being constant subjects of society’s expectations. I don’t think that putting pressure on children to conform to the traditional expected roles that society has made for them is what will make them better humans.
While the girls were given this, I am sure there were a hundred boys who wanted to cry but never did. Those who wanted to say they appreciated pink, but were ‘demeaned’ and ‘laughed on’ to be girly. ‘Boys will be boys’: we can never know what psychological impact this statement causes on the ego of the boy who turns into a man in few years.
Teaching a girl that shorts are for boys, cross-legs is for girls is not how she has to be taught about femininity. Similarly, teaching a boy that to be loud and sporty means to be masculine is equally wrong. Girls are pretty and quiet and boys are sporty and loud, does not make a good impact on the ‘power dynamics’ that we as children grow up with, into adults in this society.
I know times are changing. I know schools are changing. But I do feel that there is a majority of educational institutions that have conditioned girls and boys to grow up as they are in this present era, patriarchal victims and criminals. What is education? Shouldn’t it be more than mere learning from books and getting marks? Do we promote equality from the start? Gender equality?
I was lucky my college shaped a lot of my present being. But do we have such structures for the rest to re-condition this gender stereotyping they gain in homes and schools? Just food for thought!
This article was first published on womensweb 

Monday, 21 July 2014

बिखरे हुए लव्ज़

पंख भले ही न हों मेरे दामन में
पर उड़ना सीख लिया है
कौन कहता है ज़रूरी है की कोई हवा चले
उड़ान भरने के लिए हौंसला ही काफी है

नसीब की बातें न करिये आज
ऐसा न हो की खुद पे से विश्वास ही उठ जाये
हाथों की लकीरों का क्या कुसूर
हिम्मत तोह बिना हाथ वालों में भी बहुत है

एक ज़ालिम समाज है
जिसको कोसते कोसते हम थकते नहीं
और एक यह ज़ालिम दिल है हमारा
की सवालों के जवाब में खुद को चोट पहुचता है

कुछ लकज़ आज फिर हैं बिखरे हुए
जैसे वक़्त ने सवालों का डिब्बा है खोला
दर्द है की सिमट नहीं रहा
और कमभक्त ढक्कन ही गायब हो गया है

रुकते नहीं हैं जो समय के यह पल
वैसे ही थम नहीं पा रही है मेरी उलझन
कुछ तोह मेरा कुसूर ज़रूर होगा
वरना ऐसा ज़ुल्म? हाय तौबा

रौशनी जो आज दिख रही है
वह है किसी बादल के गरजने की चमक
अपने आप को समेटे रखना है
एक दिन तोह उजाला भी चेहरा दिखायेगा

- Diary of an Oxymoron

Thursday, 1 May 2014

Knots

Melting, in this land of heat 
As I try to stay afloat I often meet
The sunshine, the shaking land and wind crazy
Making me water, so hazy

I am falling, dunno where to flow 
No direction no place to go 
Uncertainties in my trembling self I see
Maybe waiting to phase out to free

the smiles r erasing out, 
In solitude I often pout
You see me as this shining flow
And I m here, shud I stand still or should I grow?

 oh sunshine, of land why the pain? 
Wat is there in phasing out to gain? 
Loosing a part of me every second of the day
April, or month f may

I enjoy the tremble, the suffocating knots,
On blank pages they are red blots
They make me feel alive, dying
It's no joke, no m not lying

should I enjoy the change or break free? 
Should I transform into new or just stay me?
Not easy, knot easy, it is to answer. Isn't it?

Wednesday, 19 March 2014

शब्द - निशब्द

यह कविता मेरी
नहीं कोई ज़रिया मुझे जान्ने का
यह तोह बस एक दूर का मृगजल है
पास आओगे, तोह छुह हो जायेगा!
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अदृश्य दीवारें जो दिखाई देती हैं
कल्पना कि उपज हैं तुम्हारी
मेरे इस टेढ़े मेढ़े दर्पण में न देखो
खुद को अनजान समझने लगोगे

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लहरें आती हैं, लहरें जाती हैं
किनारा वहीँ का वहीँ रेह जाता है
लहरें तोह शायद किनारे का फिर भी सोच लें
किनारे को कभी किसी एक लहर पे रोते देखा है?
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चाहे कहो उसे धुप या सूरज निराला
है वोह बारिश के तीर, पानी कि बहती ज्वाला
कभी रेगित्सान कि मिटटी और कभी बंजर यह ज़मीन
कभी मीठी सी खुश्बू, कभी बेरंग नमकीन

उड़ती चिड़िया, जुडी हुई जड़ें
अनसुना संगीत, शान्ति कहीं है खड़े
आग या हवा, अनजान एक कहानी
कैसे शुरू करोगे सुनानी?
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जो लम्हे अभी जीए नहीं
उनको सोच के क्यूँ ए दिल तू है परेशान
जिनमें सांस ले रहा है ए राही
उसमें क्यूँ नहीं छोड़ देता अपने कुछ निशान


Tuesday, 18 March 2014

Roses, and thorns

roses, and thorns
rainbows and unicorns

the silent bird chirps in loneliness
as the world moves fast, a few beings regress

the done, undone and not done now, such hazy
smiles and frowns, oh so crazy

and then amidst this shrek of unknown
the pains are cherished, happiness is felt in the moan

you call it life, i call it living
undefined, we let it be for the misgiving

loathe in it, drag or run
cherishing to acknowledge the pain in the fun

it is there, oh the movement still
thoughts to live by, or thoughts to kill

roses, and thorns
rainbows and unicorns

- Diary of an Oxymoron


Monday, 17 March 2014

Studying Home Science? Get ready to break some stereotypes: Part 1

Just saw Queen- The movie? The protagonist is shown to be a Home Science Student! Too cliched to show that she is the one who knows nothing about reality. Here, I am breaking your glass to what a Home Science Student/ Professional can look like. But before I start, here are a few situations you need to go through before you get in depth with the daily-drama a Home Science student faces. Beware, as some of the stereotypes could be few even you indulge in, due to sheer lack of information.
Situation 1: Your (over) friendly relative
“So, beta, what are you studying?”
“ Uncle, am doing graduation in Home Science”
“ Arey, arey, achi bahu banegi (you would be a good daughter-in-law)”
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Situation 2: Your Old School Teacher
“ Home Science???????? Well, because everyone can’t be an engineer and doctor right??”
“Yes, everyone doesn’t want to be too”
“Didn’t get admission into Botany Hons or BSc General?”
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Situation 3: At the University Admin Section
“Arey, madam, you are from the Home Science Department right?”
“Yes, I am”
“ Still, so obese? We thought home science girls know about food well”
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Situation 4: At a Matrimonial Ad
“Wanted! Homely girl, beautiful and convent educated. Home Science Preferred”
“Damnit!” 
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Now That I have established a few situations that I have been a victim of, here I come down to describe how a career in Home Science has been one which I am so proud of. This is me right now: I can’t always cook the tastiest meals, but I do always know what is nutritious and what should not be eaten. I cant stitch the finest clothes but I do always know a great about fabrics, cuts, fashion and designing. I have little clue about managing home finance but I do have a lot of knowledge about investing my money in bonds and banks. I am a little too immature to have a baby right now, but I can manage 25 of them in a class, giving them the best for their cognitive growth. Last but most importantly, I am a not that much a social person as I am a social worker. My favorite topics of discussion are politics, literature, media, policy, grassroots development, gender issues, technology and yes, advocacy of almost anything and everything that is required to run a nation! I know how to make a documentary film from content to camera, how to design a political campaign, how environment issues need to be sorted logically and how doing a PhD in Community Radio is very different from being a Radio Jockey!
This is me! The ME that I owe my Home Science background to. When I joined a Bachelors  degree programme in Home Science at Delhi University, I was prepared for a up-hill task for not just becoming who I am, but also breaking few glasses, shattering few stereotypes. Looking back at the time many years ago when I started my First year at the college, I realize how little things have been a reason for shaping me overall today. Those ‘Human Development & Childhood Studies’ lectures in first year where we discussed the effect of Partition on adults and analyzed the movie Pinjar for gender effect shaped the critical thinker in me. Those ‘Fabric design’ classes where I was wondering why I would need to know about basics of stitching and my teacher had told me, “its not that you would do it, but when you make people do it for you, you would know its right or wrong” made the aspirations in me rise. Those sessions with the slum women teaching them on adult education and importance of learning for girls, made the girl in me transform into a woman, breaking the cocoon and flying like a butterfly. This has been the journey for not just me, but many others like me, specializing in Home Science, taking a field from the many options and making a career either in a United Nations office or as an entrepreneur, either in a Food Company or a corporate CSR office, either in a NGO office working on Human Rights or in a village far off doing an action project on transforming the Millennium Development Goals into reality on ground. This is us, the Home Scientist!
Over the years I have seen my friends, acquaintances, people I have randomly met and even professionals giving me the weird, aghast look when they hear that home science is not just cooking or stitching but global perspectives and behavior change. It has not been an easy journey. Even as educated and as aware people sitting in big international offices seem aloof to the idea of Home Science being so vast, wide and global yet local. As a home scientist, I am equipped to talk not just at the village level but function in an international office dealing with those village level issues because I am aware of the grassroots reality. I vividly remember those days I questioned why the course which teachers me such amazing realities and equips me to be a multi-tasker yet a specialist has been called Home Science. Today, I know that when a Home Scientist talks about Home, she feels the world is her home. When she talks about Science, she knows her arts and science linkages pretty well. She is out there for create that change, first in her own self before she goes to change the world.
And as I say this, I am not out there claiming that Home Science is the greatest profession of all. I am here, simply writing this down to make people realize that don’t judge the book by its cover and the course by its name. A little in-depth information can change the way we look at many things. As a woman, who has over the years taken a journey to reality, I feel that Home Science background has made me more grounded, more closer to realities, more creative, more free yet focused and more challenged, than I could have been in any other course that I would have opted for had I fallen in the Name Trap Game of this society.
Shut off what the schools taught on Home Science years and years ago. The world is changing; the education and life skills training courses are evolving faster than humans themselves are and so, before you go out their stamping a person on their head based on the field they come from or college they went to, dig deeper and understand. We are three sisters, all background in Home Science but having very different careers from each other. We as women know how to balance, home in the four walls and home that is limitless extension of our dreams and aspirations as a human, as a woman.
I have a thousand stories to tell, those heard and those unheard, those spoken and those not… but more on that later! This was just a peep into what a profession in Home Science can engulf generally. The limitless scope that it offers is hard to explain in one write up! But I would just end with a line that a professor had told me at a Conference where we were discussing Global Media Content and Journalism: “You are one of the most proud Home Scientist I have ever met!” Indeed I am. Because, I don’t want to fall in trap of the name, I want to shout out loud and create that ripple for a bigger broader wider change to happen!
Our journey after all as a woman doesn’t start or end with a degree or two. It is a process, a step-by-step process of developing from a girl to a woman to a human. My Current situation is this:
Situation 5: At a family function
"Beta, so what are you studying right now?"
" Traveling to villages and cities in US, Nepal, Sri Lanka & India for data collection of grassroots media looking at the policy, gender, impact on development indictors, global comparison."
" What? But i thought you did something in Home Science.. Did you change your field?"
"No Uncle, I am a proud Home Scientist, specializing in Development Communication & Social Work"
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