What’s the syllabus?: A Letter to My School Teachers
Dear School Teachers,
I write as a girl and then a woman who grew up thinking of your opinion as paramount; as a student caught in the rat race that I was unknowingly thrown into; as someone who looks back at her school life with a wide smile mixed with a hint of shame as I reminisce.
People say school is the most valuable time of your life. It really is. You enter the premises when you’re a toddler, completely puzzled as to what you’re in for. Eventually, you build a life for yourself, making friends, learning more, excelling, and all the while enjoying. As I saw myself grow from a little girl to a lady, I experienced a great deal of change, my body and my personality, among many aspects. Already struggling with puberty, I would find ways to discover an identity of my own, sometimes going against the rules in the process. A strand of colored hair, smuggling in a mobile phone, a lip balm hid in a jungle of stationery were my ideas of sweet rebellion. You must’ve gone through the same when you were as old as I was then.
The world is dynamic. As we stumble upon epiphanies, new ideas and opinions take over traditional thinking. Ideas of equality, security, love, the list goes on. You, as teachers, deserve full credit for creating changemakers and revolutionaries across the globe. At the same time, however, there is a downside to this power. The norm at schools has never evolved with this change of society and ideology. All the rules and suggestions are hand-me-downs!
Ideas of femininity are encouraged and shunned at the same time. I am told to “act like a girl” but at the same time shamed for behaving like one. Growing up, my long hair was my most treasured asset; wearing it the way I wanted was my way of feeling beautiful. But, I was made to feel like I was desperate for attention. There was no explanation, just a nasty remark that stays in my head years after the incident. In an environment that promises to empower, my ponytail, the length of my skirt, my nail paint, even my company was subject to harassment and, sadly, slut-shaming. I can’t count on my fingers the number of times I have seen a girl cry at school because of something that seems so tiny today. Female teachers are looked up to as role models. It took me a while to recover from the fact that even you aren’t on my side. My twisted ideas of misogyny and neediness perhaps come from school.
Friendships are an integral part of school. As long as someone has your back, it all seems okay. You taught me to, above all, “be a good person,” and the very next instance told me to stay away from a friend because they are not “good company.” I was happy that you looked out for me, but what was your criterion? Grades! Whether by chance (which seems highly unlikely) or strategically, my class was always divided into two halves: High scorers and low scorers. Plants have been known to bloom when cared for and die down when not; I think humans work the same way. The low scorers had never been cared for; you lost hope in all of them. Why would they believe in themselves if their mentor refuses to engage? I suppose, ignorant as I was, I am to be blamed too, for I was bestowed upon with this idea of grades being a marker of personality. I didn’t care to make friends beyond my side of the classroom, and I sincerely hope you make other kids like me conscious to this discrimination before it gets ingrained in their heads.
But wait, there’s more. The most confusing lesson I learned was not physics or math like I was told, it was love. Books, teachers, incharges aplenty taught me to love all, that love is a wonderful feeling, I even read a few stories around these! But as soon as I started feeling the emotion, I started receiving disapproving glances and big frowns. As a child turns 15 or 16, attraction becomes quite common. We see girls giggle and boys talk and stare, butterflies in the stomach, or even playing truth or dare just to hold hands. It is a delight to see innocent encounters as we enter the brink of adulthood. You would think it is harmless and privacy is important. Clearly not! I was told love is a positive emotion, but the same faces brought with it guilt, shame, and sadness. What made me feel even worse was the fact that you joked around with the guys but shamed girls for the same interaction. I was alarmed, but after years of observing this behavior, a part of me agreed with it.
Curiosity is the mother of invention, they say. My observations also say that curiosity is the mother of revolution! But your treatment of my questions as invalid, irrelevant, or simply irritating makes it hard to be inquisitive. Your ability to continue age-old traditions while teaching evolution makes it hard to be open to change. I fear I’m becoming a misogynistic, rigid, competitive, discriminatory person while also knowing the importance of equality, open-mindedness, benevolence, and love.
Dear School teachers, I write as an adult, puzzled, tired, and unaware of what part of your lessons to learn and what to question.
