Childhood Impositions
A friend recently wrote about her sense of triump over
lifelong hesitation when she graduated
from an ‘under average’ student with an average ‘B+’. Each of us go through such life-defining experiences,
based on expectations from us. Let me share mine.
I was a star pupil since std. 1, topping the class
through to std. 3, in a reputed international school in Jakarta, Indonesia. Then the political situation changed against
the Chinese there, their schools closed down; those who did not leave the
country were forced to seek admission in English medium schools.
Suddenly, each class saw an influx of slightly older
students, down a class because of language difference. From among the youngest
students in class, my rank slid down from 1 to 3, sometimes 4, as older
students fared better. Can you imagine the blow to my own perception of myself,
leave alone others?
In grade 5, a new young teacher decided to shuffle seats.
We did not know what was her criterion; forcibly separated from a friend, I shared
a desk with the untidiest, rudest boy in the class. His bag, books etc took up
space everywhere, books inevitably scratched and torn, homework never complete
and comments rude non-stop. The only thing we had in common was our non-stop
chatter.
After a couple of days of squabbling, with teacher
watching, I laid down the rules: drawing a line down the middle with chalk, I
warned him your things will remain on your side or else out of the window. His testing resulted with one book chucked
out. There the matter rested. Over some
time, he did become quieter, neater, with grades slightly better, while the
rest including older students settling in. Perhaps what gave me that courage to
compete with those older ones and this young man was solid home backing that
did not depend on my grades.
I repeated that, making out preschool as a treat for my
young ones. So, no problems sending to
school, except the youngest spoilt brat! My eldest actually told me to go home
on the first day of preschool “Mummy why are you sitting here?”
In later years, I left the caste slot on forms with an
NA. Children grew up as Indians and Hindus. During the 1985 anti-reservation
riots, they were introduced to caste by a neighbor who taught society kids
“SC log gande hote hai”.
It took a very long time to rub that out.
How childhood perceptions color lives!
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