"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who pointsout how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."
-Theodore Roosevelt

Tuesday, December 4, 2012


The other night I asked Uttam to tell me about his school, a story that I had only heard so far from articles and videos. I wanted to hear Uttam tell it.

The school started with 800 rupees and a cow shed. This is Parijat gospel, mentioned in every article. The shed is now a carport that shelters a deadbeat car, a cycle-rickshaw, a hen house and in the mornings, Uttam’s father. Surprisingly to me, Uttam got a lot of resistance when he tried to recruit children to his school. Parents didn’t see the value of free education for themselves or for their children, so the school started with 4 students. The next year there were 18 and the school doubled in size, from half of the shed to all of it. He explained the school’s history to me in a spatial way that put my geographically-inclined mind at ease, describing how classrooms became kitchens became bedrooms as he raised money and was able to take on more children from surrounding villages. An influx of money came when the school started getting media attention, enough to build three permanent structures over several years, but donations have fallen off and another building seems unlikely in the near future. It was fun to be inspired as Uttam told stories about his school with a genuineness that no feel-good, Save-a-Child reporting cannot evoke. He doesn’t teach classes anymore and is often out doing administrative stuff during the day, but he taught by himself for the first 2 years and when I asked him if he missed teaching he said “Absolutely, absolutely.” The real story confirmed that I made the right choice coming here.


I was informed yesterday that after the examinations this week (which I sorta knew about) there would be no regular classes until January (which I did not know about). I asked Sankar what school is like during this period and he said there are morning prayers and maybe 50 students come each day, meaning that theoretically I can teach computer classes. Most students have little concept of computers and Uttam wants them to practice writing their names over and over, so yesterday we did this. Then I asked the class to come up with questions one might ask in a letter to a stranger their own age, a pen pal. It was hard to get much response but once we had ten questions written on the board I told them each to type Q. Questions and A. Answers. My favorite question was “What is your favorite curry?” (Most typed, “My favorite curry is fishcurry.”) My favorite answer was “There are 6 peapole in my family.” Today they started with names, then typed out the 28 states of India and drew maps of India in MS Paint. The girls took to this well, the boys got bored. Two boys drew Assam instead and I showed them how to label places in their state. As you may know I love maps and think geography is super important, so having a specific purpose at school AND teaching two skills at once makes me happy.

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