Pathway to the knowledge society

As long as schools remain boring and unappealing to children, there will always be attempts to change them. Many of our state education institutions have slowly become inert and atrophied. Many of the big boards of education, for instance, the CBSE, derive their strength not from any contribution to innovation, but because of the power they wield in granting affiliations. With only 8,000 schools affiliated to the CBSE, there are over 20,000 still waiting for the CBSE inspectors to knock at their door. Not too long ago the ICMR chief was caught accepting a few crores in bribe for accrediting a fake medical college.

Many of the innovations in education have come from individuals. While returning by ship in the 1920’s, Vikram Sarabhai’s father Ambalal and mother Sarla read Montessori's revolutionary book on education. It had a profound effect on them and they decided to start a Montessori school for their own children. Their eight children were educated in a private experimental school on the family’s 21-acre property.   

In the 1920’s, Gijubhai Badheka ran the Dakshin Murty Bal Mandir, a very child-centred school for over 20 years. Gijubhai’s great contribution lay in creatively adapting the Montessori method to suit Indian conditions. Instead of importing expensive Montessori teaching aids, he employed a local carpenter to make them from local materials. Montessori had little understanding or appreciation of the rich Indian cultural tapestry. Gijubhai soon recognised this lacunae and added stories, plays and field trips to augment the Montessori’s method.

Summerhill was started in England in the early 1920’s by A S Neill. Ninety years later, it is still a source of deep inspiration for libertarian educationists the world over. “Be on the side of the child,” was Neill’s slogan. Classes were not compulsory. A boy spent 14 years in school without ever attending a class. He was interested in tinkering and pottering and spent all his time in the workshop. On leaving school, he didn’t know how to read and write. Very soon, he got a job in a factory where he had to read a technical manual. Confronted with a real problem, he soon learnt to read it. But the most important thing was that he was still happy tinkering and doing things which he loved.

One of the most loved schools in the world was Tomoe, described lyrically in the book ‘Tottochan’ by Tetsuko Kuroyonagi. Kobayashi was the visionary principal who set up this exquisite school in nine rail coaches, all bought in scrap. There were no teachers with professional degrees. Often a local farmer, or cycle mechanic or a nurse would double up as a teacher. These people had real skills — they could fix things and so the children liked them immensely. One of the rail coaches housed the science lab while another one was the library. Kobayashi welcomed differently-able children and consciously designed and organised races and competitions in which these children won. This immensely boosted their self-esteem.

In the early 1970's, Neelbagh was another milestone in innovative education. Set up by David Horsburgh, it was meant for local village children. The children would voluntarily come one hour early to school. This was because the school was where they had the maximum fun. Here they dirtied their fingers making pottery and crafted exquisite wooden toys and teaching aids. By and large, all the teaching aids used in the school were made by the children and staff. Soon they became so good at it that they were selling these teaching aids to schools in Bangalore.

Here, ordinary village children coming from disadvantaged families learnt to read and write in five languages. Most could sing over a 100 songs in a dozen languages of the world! In Neelbagh, children were free to choose their own subjects and learn at their own pace. A child could be studying 5th class English, 8th class mathematics and 6th class Telugu simultaneously! Such flexibility is rare today.

Many of these experiments were pioneered by creative individuals. They often remained confined to single schools and died with the passing away of the innovator. However, some innovations were aimed, not at improving one or two individual schools, but at overhauling the system. The Hoshangabad Science Teaching Programme in the early seventies symbolised one such experiment. It attempted to revitalise the learning of science in 16 village schools in Madhya Pradesh.

Inspired by the Nuffield Experiment in England, it emphasised the need for learning science through simple experiments. Many passionate individuals were drawn to it. They critically looked at the possibilities of doing creative science using local, low-cost materials. The Acacia Thorn (Babool) emerged as a no-cost dissecting needle.

Burettes and pipettes were substituted by droppers and test tubes with injection bottles. When the indicator phenolphthalein could not be bought locally, a teacher discovered it in a common laxative “Vaculax”, readily available with the local chemist. Teachers were very much a part of this innovation and they often contributed excellent ideas. Each idea was tried and tested, for, the proof of the pudding was in the eating. A series of science workbooks, as opposed to textbooks, were written. The children loved the experiments and the tinkering. In about 20 years, from just 16 schools, the programme spread to over 1,200 government schools.

Here was a new paradigm for learning science, not by rote but through simple experiments using ordinary life materials. It was also very cost-effective with a passionate NGO organising the training and providing the human inputs and the state government funding it. The exams were open book because they did not test the child’s ability to mug and spit but her reasoning and analytical skills.

At its peak, over a hundred thousand village children in 14 districts of Madhya Pradesh learnt science through a world-class methodology. But then, almost a decade back, the government in its wisdom shut it down. It raised many ‘political’ questions. As long as you experiment in one or two schools it’s OK but no government will ever let you intervene in mass education.

All  innovations are cyclic. They are born, they thrive, spread and then wane away. But they never die. Each innovation sensitises a new generation and leaves behind seeds for a future experiment.