Reflection on my

Guiding Question

“India – a country of beautiful contradictions” is what a friend of mine declared after returning from a month of teaching.

As I process the my brief but rich three-week visit in India, I recognize the truth of my friend’s perception. Reflecting on my guiding question: “How is the concept of spirituality represented in the Indian education system?,” I write from with an understanding of India based on very limited knowledge of the country, gained mainly from pre-travel and on-site experiences, and b) my position as a white, female, baby-boomer-age, heterosexual, highly-educated, able-bodied, comfortably middle-class public school arts teacher and scholar.

My views are narrowly confined by these parameters, but my encounters with Indian culture from the inside have none-the-less offered me much to contemplate as I continue on my journey as a public school theatre teacher interested in the intersection between spirituality and secondary theatre education in the United States.

Another friend who taught in India through TGC several years ago commented prior to my departure, “India is a very spiritual country.” My reflection will consider four contradictions related to education that I observed in a country that is impoverished compared to U.S. standards of material possessions, but - I assert - wealthier in heart and soul.

ONE. Environmental awareness. Some claim that it is too late to clean up the Ganges and Yamuna rivers, yet posters visible along streets in Delhi and Kolkate encourage residents to make change for clean water, and I heard a pre-service teacher present a thoughtful persuasive speech to her classmates about the necessity of teaching kids to value the environment. “Caring for the environment,” she asserted, “teaches us cooperation and truthfulness to self.” She explained that caring for the environment is a way to right the wrongs of society and referenced Ghandi, reminding her audience “there is enough for everyone’s need but not everyone’s greed.” After her presentation, a barefoot male teacher stepped to the front. “Good Morning, Everyone,” he greeted. “Good morning, sir,” they replied in unison. He mentioned how the garbage clogging sewers in Mumbai was contributing to the flooded conditions and reinforced the need for us to know about the beauty of nature. Posters in government and private schools also proclaim change for clear air, water, and land. Posters also advocate the planting of trees and tree-planting ceremonies are common.

Mounds of debris existed on city streets everywhere I visited: debris line sidewalks and roads extending out of the city, and are visible outside family dwellings in the countryside. Food scraps, paper products, and these days plastic containers (my colleagues and I left India with much guilt, knowing how much we had contributed to the waste problem, for the only water we drank was from plastic bottles, which we never refilled due to our bodies being unprepared to process the bacteria present in India’s tap water.)

Cows are sacred in India, the aging ones left free to roam the streets, so we often saw the bovines sorting through mounds of garbage, grouped by someone into piles. At times I also saw children sifting through the street remains. Indians share what they have, though to Western, first-world eyes it looks like trash and waste. To Indians, it is a way making available to others that which you don’t need.

TWO. Promotion of the Happiness Curriculum. In 1835, British Colonizer Lord Macaulay addressed Parliament with a declaration intended to break India’s soul by revamping its system of education:

I have travelled across the length and breadth of India and I have not seen one person who is a beggar, who is a thief such wealth I have seen in this country, such high moral values, people of such caliber, that I do not think we would ever conquer this country, unless we break the very backbone of this nation, which is her spiritual and cultural heritage and therefore, I propose that we replace her old and ancient education system, her culture, for if the Indians think that all that is foreign and English is good and greater than their own, they will lose their self-esteem, their native culture and they will become what we want them, a truly dominated nation.

India earned its independence from the British in 1947, and while the education system benefit from colonialism, the Happiness Curriculum launched on July 2, 2018 is an initiative that in part reclaims the values of the “old and ancient” approach to schooling.

“How do we know how much we need? We are satisfied when we have what meets our needs.” This claim, asserted to the entire school body of Rajkiya Pratibha Vikas Vidyalal by Delhi’s Deputy Chief Minister and Minister of Education, Sh. Manish Sisodia, sums up the philosophy of the brand-new Happiness Curriculum.

Endorsed by the Dalai Lama and rooted in the philosophy of Hinduism - India’s most widely-shared belief system, the Happiness Curriculum is a mandate for Delhi’s schools to implement this year for grades K – 8. Primary to the philosophy of the HC is the concept that the inner self must be centered and the mind in a state of presence before any “school” learning can take place. We observed at a second government school, East Delhi Nigam Pratibha Co-Ed School, during first period, teachers inviting students to explore anything but their studies: their favorite foods, what they like about their village, or sing in a regional language. When we visited the District Institute of Education and Training (DIET), its principal, Dr. Aniil Teotia, reiterated the need to invest in the Happiness Curriculum. During the morning assembly, the pre-service elementary teachers practiced mindfulness activities that they would later implement into their own classroom morning rituals to develop presence within their students. For example, their instructor asked to listen intently only to the sounds they could hear, and describe them. She told students to eliminate distractions from the outside. “Concentrate,” she said. “Focus on our breath, ourselves, our heartbeats.” After asking students to describe the sounds they heard, she asked, ”How are you feeling after this activity? Calm? Refreshed? Relaxed?” She reminded them to concentrate on emotional control, and told students if they like this activity, they can do it on their own, suggesting the best time is in the morning.

This activity reinforced the value of connecting to one’s inner self, and must precede teaching, according to the school’s philosophy. When talking with Dr. Teotia later, he asserted that teachers must be centered and instill within themselves a feeling of connectedness and a sense of belonging. That must come first, not just for the teacher, but for students, too. Teaching content comes later. “Truth, respect, belief, trust, gratitude,” he listed as terms that are central to teaching philosophy. He further opined that teachers must first be good human beings; they must transform themselves before they teach.

Another quality of this school is that students are responsible for keeping it clean. At one of the schools, teachers commented on how something as simple as listing students’ names outside the classroom door sets the tone for student ownership of the learning space; this is a characteristic of democratic education that breeds respect and commitment to the whole. In an elementary school art class I visited, I asked students what their favorite aspect of the class was. They said “drawing” and the teacher explained that when students are drawing together, they are in harmony. At every school, yoga was a core part of the curriculum, and at RPVV, the high school students competed in yoga competitions with other schools.

One example relating to the inner calm within teachers occurred on Feast Day at Carmel H.S. in Kolkate. On Feast Day, girls are allowed to dress in whatever outfit they choose, rather than their school uniform, and the girls present performances, followed by lunch, which they get to choose. The 8^th grade class, which my host teacher oversaw, opted for Dominoe’s pizza and Coca-Cola. Balloons made the room festive, and the 55 girls in the room where typically silly 13-red olds – re-creating Bollywood dances, giggling, teasing, and voraciously consuming pizza. They noise level in the class created by youthful energy would have pushed any middle-school teacher I know over the edge. But Rita was extremely calm, low-key and supportively present, wishing the girls happy Feast Day and making sure everyone had food, and was also cleaning up their trash. The next day at school, students would return rigors of focused discipline, but on this day, the girls were permitted to go wild.

THREE. Follow Your Dreams! But only if they involve math and science. When working with a group of seven girls who love drama/theatre at Carmel High School, I asked them what challenging aspects of being teens would they like to investigate using techniques of theatre. Domestic violence was one, and having the opportunity to follow their dreams was another. They criticized the Bollywood film industry and national television, asserting that depictions of teens’ lives are unrealistic. They expressed frustration because they didn’t see in their future opportunities to make change, because successful, hard-working, studious teenagers are discouraged from studying the humanities and arts; rather their parents push them to major in math and science, where stronger prospects for higher-paying, more secure jobs exist. In India, this is referred to as “Science Bias.”

The contradiction lies in the fact that students are invited to listen to their inner selves and pursue their dreams, yet the education system favors kids who excel in the math/science tracks. Citing education as the only way to make a country happy, Sh. Sisodia told students that “having dreams is very easy. Fulfilling them is what’s hard.” That is especially true for kids who dream to be actors, filmmakers, storytellers, and painters.

This contrast was poignantly made manifest when we visited the Indian Institute for Women and Children in Kolkate. During our tour on an early Tuesday evening, we spent some time in a room on the second floor where we were served graham biscuits and tea. During this break, three girls prepared to dance for us. They set up a cell-phone and small portable speaker and before we knew it, the girls began to dance classical Indian dance. Their intricate hand and foot moves, absolute concentration, connection to one another, and commitment to the art form was especially moving because it was an unexpected performance, taking place inside four concrete blue-painted walls of a second-floor concrete-floor room with open windows that allowed a slight breeze to enter. One of the girls was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, another in black stretch pants and a long white lace top, and the third in bright blue stretch pants, a long yellow tunic, and a long matching-blue scarf draped over her arms and shoulders. It turns out the girl in yellow had been an orphan at IIMC, and was now a young adult returning to work with the kids. What we were watching, as I think on it now, were dreams at work. I don’t know what the girls and their adult teacher had dreamed and continue to dream, but the performance they shared engaged us on many levels and transported us for a brief time into a domain of grace and beauty.

FOUR. Teachers and Guests are god. Reverence for guests and teachers is integrated into the dominant contemplative tradition of India. The Indian tradition of hospitality is based on the concept that the host receives guests with full honor, as if God we entering the home, village, or school. The Hindu saying Atithi Devo Bhava, “ the guest is god,” was demonstrated to us in Delhi on every entrance we made to a home or village or school. Marking a guest’s forehead with saffron and rice (the tilak), offering a beverage of passion fruit and giving a lei of flowers or showering the guest with flower petals are expressions of welcome I’d not experienced on my visits to European countries, Canada, Mexico or South Korea.

Indians view teachers as gods on earth. “The mother and the father birth the child,” asserted the merchant of a marble shop in Agra, “but the teacher gives the student his and her life.” To illuminate the significance of the deep regard that Indians hold for their teachers, I will explain the continuum of building inner core strength from the perspective of a U.S. neuroscientist who studies the relationship between brain and spiritual development.

One definition of spirituality is “a personal affirmation of the transcendent. . .often referred to feelings or experiences of connectedness or relationship with sacred beings or forces. . .” (Paloutzian and Park, 2005, p. 26). Dr. Michael Johnson describes the stages of spiritual development in four stages: 1) Normal ego functioning. At this stage, we are self-oriented, and western psychology explores virtues such as learning, creativity, gratitude and modesty. 2) Contemplation with internal reflection. At this stage, empathy and forgiveness strengthen; slowing down the pace of, and simplifying, our lives can help us deepen our inner cores. 3) Unity modes. Being “one with nature” and developing connections to people replace the self-object dichotomy that dominates Stage 1. Being able to see the One or find the spirit within each living thing is what those in this stage strive for. 4) Transcendence and Mysticism. Being at one with a higher power belies words and is beyond rational thought at this stage.

Mother Theresa, who conducted the majority of her work in Kolkate, once expressed that she saw God in every human being. Sainted for her compassion to those in need, she explained, “When I am washing the leper’s wounds, I feel I am nursing the Lord himself.” Johnson claims that all major religions incorporate some aspect by which that which represents the stage of transcendence returns to earth. If transcendence – seeing or being with God - is an experience is beyond words, an aspect of the transcendent experience must be returned to earth to make the transcendent tangible for those who will not experience Stage Four. Therefore, if the teacher fills a student with life, the teacher is a conduit between the transcendent (God) and the student on earth.

In Western psychology, the concept of self extends from the notion of egocentrism. Hinduism encourages people to connect to one another through actions supported by the understanding that “if what is mine is yours, then I need to think about you, too.” Thus, the “spiritual” is embedded in Indian daily life, played out through rituals of welcome, morning school assembly mediation exercises, and knowledge that is activated by teachers and transferred to, and within, students.

In closing, cultural and economic factors are diminishing the time available within families to nurture developmental stages, especially emotional and contemplative skills. Curriculum that attends to these skills is lacking in U.S. schools, as well. We focus on cognition in our society at the expense of exercises and experiences that help children develop emotional skill sets. How do U.S. children develop kindness and discover happiness? If within is the focus of eastern education and outward is the focus of western, what improvements to the whole child might take place if each approach draws upon the other?