<div>The purpose of education has always primarily been to provide a sound foundation for a career. This is an undeniable fact. The youth of the 18th century were educated to be book-keepers, lawyers, doctors or engineers. Those who could not join these professions joined the military or the clergy – depending on whether they were fit to kill or to preach! And those who were not fit for even that, taught!<br /><br />As a teacher of biology who has served in schools for 25 years, I often wonder what my contribution to the younger generation has been, for not more than two per cent of the students I taught have chosen careers related to biology. Perhaps, it was very little, almost negligible even. <br /><br />But, while pondering over this problem, I found my answer in something seemingly unrelated to education – the dilemmas of my childhood, revisited as a father. I remember, with a certain degree of anguish, that I was never too close to my father. As a highly respected army officer, he did not dream that his son would decide to teach – and that too in a school! But added to this was the fact that my mother, who was closer to me and a confidante of sorts, actively encouraged me to choose the profession. <br /><br />As time progressed, my father must have certainly felt vulnerable and cheated. But he also felt isolated and unappreciated. No amount of verbal assurances from my side really improved the situation. I felt that as a teacher, with a reputation for handling children and inspiring them, I would be able to create that wonderful rapport between me and my child. I was in for a rude shock! <br /><br />Apart from the odd “feather-on-the cap” given to me condescendingly by my daughter, I am not the confidante to her that my mother was to me. The implications of this are perhaps too far-reaching to be discussed here. The issues arising from the crucial role a mother plays as well as the need for fathers to be empowered and “feel” more competent are equally important. The realisation that a good teacher need not necessarily excel as a parent came late to me! My mother, with fewer qualifications, proved to be a better parent than me.<br /><br />The ‘tangible’ in education, such as marks or being a ‘topper’ has been over-emphasised, pushing teenagers to suicide. But the ‘intangible’ has been ignored. What is this intangible; this ‘something’ which cannot be measured? <br /><br />Is it the ability to predict the implications of choosing a profession which may not be compatible with the demands of a family life, the ability to choose a career compatible with one’s aptitude, to choose one’s life partner, to accept another’s value system, to be a supportive parent, to appreciate nature? If human society is to become more humane, we cannot ignore the “intangible” in education, as we have done all these years.</div>
<div>The purpose of education has always primarily been to provide a sound foundation for a career. This is an undeniable fact. The youth of the 18th century were educated to be book-keepers, lawyers, doctors or engineers. Those who could not join these professions joined the military or the clergy – depending on whether they were fit to kill or to preach! And those who were not fit for even that, taught!<br /><br />As a teacher of biology who has served in schools for 25 years, I often wonder what my contribution to the younger generation has been, for not more than two per cent of the students I taught have chosen careers related to biology. Perhaps, it was very little, almost negligible even. <br /><br />But, while pondering over this problem, I found my answer in something seemingly unrelated to education – the dilemmas of my childhood, revisited as a father. I remember, with a certain degree of anguish, that I was never too close to my father. As a highly respected army officer, he did not dream that his son would decide to teach – and that too in a school! But added to this was the fact that my mother, who was closer to me and a confidante of sorts, actively encouraged me to choose the profession. <br /><br />As time progressed, my father must have certainly felt vulnerable and cheated. But he also felt isolated and unappreciated. No amount of verbal assurances from my side really improved the situation. I felt that as a teacher, with a reputation for handling children and inspiring them, I would be able to create that wonderful rapport between me and my child. I was in for a rude shock! <br /><br />Apart from the odd “feather-on-the cap” given to me condescendingly by my daughter, I am not the confidante to her that my mother was to me. The implications of this are perhaps too far-reaching to be discussed here. The issues arising from the crucial role a mother plays as well as the need for fathers to be empowered and “feel” more competent are equally important. The realisation that a good teacher need not necessarily excel as a parent came late to me! My mother, with fewer qualifications, proved to be a better parent than me.<br /><br />The ‘tangible’ in education, such as marks or being a ‘topper’ has been over-emphasised, pushing teenagers to suicide. But the ‘intangible’ has been ignored. What is this intangible; this ‘something’ which cannot be measured? <br /><br />Is it the ability to predict the implications of choosing a profession which may not be compatible with the demands of a family life, the ability to choose a career compatible with one’s aptitude, to choose one’s life partner, to accept another’s value system, to be a supportive parent, to appreciate nature? If human society is to become more humane, we cannot ignore the “intangible” in education, as we have done all these years.</div>
