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Wednesday, October 07, 2015
Margins to mainstream
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Shefali Tripathi
Mehta, August 2, 2015, DHNS
A friend posted an
update about a milkman’s daughter getting 93 per cent marks in Class 12 board
exams and someone responded by saying, “What does the parents’ profession have
to do with their children’s marks?”
A great deal, really.
The country was still not done lauding the amazing feat of the brothers, Raju (18) and Brajesh (19), sons of a daily wage worker, who made it to the prestigious IITs with ranks 167 and 410 respectively, when the details of how they were continually harassed for going to school and college, and dreaming of more, began appearing in the media. Belonging to a lower class, the boys faced blatant discrimination, not unknown in this country, but prevailed. Such stories of those who defy the odds of social alienation and economic deprivation are few and far between. Thousands of first-generation learners, that is, those whose parents have received little or no formal education, still sieve through the harsh social realities and retreat to the margins.
A great deal, really.
The country was still not done lauding the amazing feat of the brothers, Raju (18) and Brajesh (19), sons of a daily wage worker, who made it to the prestigious IITs with ranks 167 and 410 respectively, when the details of how they were continually harassed for going to school and college, and dreaming of more, began appearing in the media. Belonging to a lower class, the boys faced blatant discrimination, not unknown in this country, but prevailed. Such stories of those who defy the odds of social alienation and economic deprivation are few and far between. Thousands of first-generation learners, that is, those whose parents have received little or no formal education, still sieve through the harsh social realities and retreat to the margins.
For generations we have seen children from families with limited means and the repressed follow their parents’ profession naturally. As naturally as slipping into their shoes, as it were. I don’t seem to have registered with much surprise in my childhood when the little boys who tagged along with their father, the dhobi, to collect clothes for washing, started coming in his place, or when the grocer in the 8x12 shop, the burly Uncle who seemed to have been permanently installed behind the big jars of boiled sugar treats, made way for his son; or when I opened the door for the old, bent sweeper and in walked her daughter to wash the toilets? These children too must’ve wished for a different future, but when the daily struggle is to feed and clothe the body, how much further could they have gone?
But the proverbial winds of change are a-blowing. There is more public acceptance and sensitisation towards equality in society; role models and success stories for these children to emulate are real and believable; and many more of the generation that did not get education themselves realise its importance and are keen to have their kids educated.
Of courage
Our house-help’s children study in the
same private college that our daughter attended. This is the story of every
urban household. She, like thousands of her generation — maids, drivers,
dhobis, security guards — work hard to provide the best they can to their
children so the children do not get sucked into a life of manual work like
them. These hardworking men and women take on extra work so they may be able to
afford a private school/ college education, tuitions, transportation, good
clothes and shoes, mobile phones and computers for their children.
The obstacles these children face are not something we cannot guess. A large percentage of the very poor are unable to complete even the first five years of primary education. The cost of putting kids into school is high. Poverty pulls them back continually so they can do something ‘useful’. When a child as young as nine can earn, how easy is it to let them to not contribute to a meagre family income?
What happens when the academic achievement is low? The reason may be uninspired teaching. The Right to Education does not guarantee good education. In towns and cities, parents forgo the ‘free’ education in favour of unregulated, arbitrarily steep-priced private English medium schools not just because these are a symbol of upward mobility, but also because parents want nothing to stall their kids’ career prospects.
What about higher education? How are these kids helped to deal with the bureaucratic operations of higher education about which the other kids learn from family and their networks? More than five lakh students appear for the IIT-JEE each year. Most of them begin preparations as early as 12 years of age. That’s a preparation of six years. This is true for other entrance exams for admission into professional courses too. Where do these kids get the resources, help and guidance for such preparations?
The obstacles these children face are not something we cannot guess. A large percentage of the very poor are unable to complete even the first five years of primary education. The cost of putting kids into school is high. Poverty pulls them back continually so they can do something ‘useful’. When a child as young as nine can earn, how easy is it to let them to not contribute to a meagre family income?
What happens when the academic achievement is low? The reason may be uninspired teaching. The Right to Education does not guarantee good education. In towns and cities, parents forgo the ‘free’ education in favour of unregulated, arbitrarily steep-priced private English medium schools not just because these are a symbol of upward mobility, but also because parents want nothing to stall their kids’ career prospects.
What about higher education? How are these kids helped to deal with the bureaucratic operations of higher education about which the other kids learn from family and their networks? More than five lakh students appear for the IIT-JEE each year. Most of them begin preparations as early as 12 years of age. That’s a preparation of six years. This is true for other entrance exams for admission into professional courses too. Where do these kids get the resources, help and guidance for such preparations?
In higher education, the medium of
instruction is almost always English, a jump that many find daunting. Gandhi
shared his experience of shifting from the vernacular to English. “Everything
had to be learnt through English — Geometry, Algebra, Chemistry, Astronomy,
History, Geography. ...If any boy spoke in the class in Gujarati, he was
punished. It did not matter to the teacher if a boy spoke bad English which he
could neither pronounce correctly nor understand fully... His own (the
teacher’s) English was by no means without blemish... The result was chaos. We
the boys had to learn many things by heart, though we could not understand them
fully... I took four years to learn Arithmetic, Geometry, Algebra, Chemistry
and Astronomy, (that) I should have learnt easily in one year, if I had not to
learn them through English but Gujarati. My grasp of the subjects would have
been easier and clearer... What happened to me ...was common to the majority.”
Parents with little or no formal education fail to provide educational, vocational or personal guidance to their children. As part of the company’s CSR, we were conducting a career workshop for girls at an orphanage — introducing a wide-range of careers to teenagers. We began by asking them of their career goals. Most girls were attending regular school and many were very bright. Some wrote beautiful poems and stories and some were remarkable artists. But when it came to careers, they chose teaching or becoming a nun, the only two professions they had seen at close quarters. A couple of them, drawn to what they saw at a beauty parlour on the way to school, said they wanted to work there. Who bridges this information gap and provides them career guidance?
There is also the issue of environment and peers. Many first-generation learners live in environments that do not encourage them to continue their education. With economic hardship comes the need to help with domestic chores. Tai ma, who cleans homes, was deserted along with her three sons by her husband. She worked hard to put them through school. While two of her boys managed high school and found respectable jobs, one dropped out as he could not shake off the company of boys given to drinking and gambling in the slums they live. The absence of role models and influencers within the family and neighbourhood is an immense disadvantage. Raju and Brajesh’s success will inspire many youngsters in their neighbourhood and community. But most of these children do not have a believable idol to identify with or emulate.
Parents with little or no formal education fail to provide educational, vocational or personal guidance to their children. As part of the company’s CSR, we were conducting a career workshop for girls at an orphanage — introducing a wide-range of careers to teenagers. We began by asking them of their career goals. Most girls were attending regular school and many were very bright. Some wrote beautiful poems and stories and some were remarkable artists. But when it came to careers, they chose teaching or becoming a nun, the only two professions they had seen at close quarters. A couple of them, drawn to what they saw at a beauty parlour on the way to school, said they wanted to work there. Who bridges this information gap and provides them career guidance?
There is also the issue of environment and peers. Many first-generation learners live in environments that do not encourage them to continue their education. With economic hardship comes the need to help with domestic chores. Tai ma, who cleans homes, was deserted along with her three sons by her husband. She worked hard to put them through school. While two of her boys managed high school and found respectable jobs, one dropped out as he could not shake off the company of boys given to drinking and gambling in the slums they live. The absence of role models and influencers within the family and neighbourhood is an immense disadvantage. Raju and Brajesh’s success will inspire many youngsters in their neighbourhood and community. But most of these children do not have a believable idol to identify with or emulate.
Besides, there is the matter of social
adjustments. This takes more courage and determination than we care to admit.
My friend Kempanna, who comes from a very humble background and is currently a
visual designer with an Indian multinational, tells me that he never hides the
reality of his modest beginnings; the tough life of his mother who worked in
homes; and the humiliation the family faced — everything that made him resolve
to change it for the better for himself and his family, because he believes it
gives others like him the courage to aspire big.
Of discrimination
Workplace discrimination is just as much a reality today as it was at the time of Independence, 68 years ago. But in today’s fast-paced, continually evolving, performance-based work culture, it is the non-performers, the misfits alone that can be discriminated against. A world obsessed with quick-turnarounds cannot be bothered with the social and economic backgrounds of a ‘valuable resource’.
This brings up the debatable issue of reservations. We may not have got rid of our caste discriminations completely, but modern India has come a long way from when the Communal Award was instituted in 1932 by the British Prime Minister, Ramsay McDonald. Among other caste-based divisions it created, which not just Gandhi but Ambedkar too opposed, there was a provision for ‘reserved’ constituencies for the untouchables to contest from and for them alone to vote. Political representation is important, but the manner in which these have manifested into the clichéd ‘vote-bank’ politics to render much of our democratic process as well as reform and equality ineffectual, is shameful. Eight decades and much reservation reforms later, if reservations still need to be increased, there is something terribly wrong with this as a reform to uplift the repressed.
Of discrimination
Workplace discrimination is just as much a reality today as it was at the time of Independence, 68 years ago. But in today’s fast-paced, continually evolving, performance-based work culture, it is the non-performers, the misfits alone that can be discriminated against. A world obsessed with quick-turnarounds cannot be bothered with the social and economic backgrounds of a ‘valuable resource’.
This brings up the debatable issue of reservations. We may not have got rid of our caste discriminations completely, but modern India has come a long way from when the Communal Award was instituted in 1932 by the British Prime Minister, Ramsay McDonald. Among other caste-based divisions it created, which not just Gandhi but Ambedkar too opposed, there was a provision for ‘reserved’ constituencies for the untouchables to contest from and for them alone to vote. Political representation is important, but the manner in which these have manifested into the clichéd ‘vote-bank’ politics to render much of our democratic process as well as reform and equality ineffectual, is shameful. Eight decades and much reservation reforms later, if reservations still need to be increased, there is something terribly wrong with this as a reform to uplift the repressed.
The need is for a level playing field
for all; for extending financial support and quality education at the
foundation level not based on caste but on economic condition. The ‘free and
compulsory’ education under the RTE, envisaged to lead to a democratic and
egalitarian society, is up to middle school. How far can a child go with middle
school education? Also, when has the right to education guaranteed good
education? We know the condition of government-run primary and middle schools.
Much time and effort went into standardising the ‘Minimum Levels of Learning’
for each class at the primary level. But in the current system of uninspired
teaching, who is going to implement and monitor this? Mid-day meals bring the
kids to school, but are the schools good enough to ensure a different future
for them? Does this education annul the opportunity cost? In the private sector
where there is no reservation, people from humble backgrounds have risen
exceptionally because reward and recognition is the motivation.
Of patrons & incentives
Indians, cutting across regional, caste and religious lines, have contributed generously towards the admission fee of the four boys from poor families who made it to the IITs this year. All four were coached at Anand Kumar’s Super 30 in Bihar. Anand Kumar, the man on a mission, runs Super 30 that selects 30 kids from very poor families and coaches them free for the prestigious IIT entrance exam. The Pratapgarh brothers’ (Raju and Brajesh) fee has been waived off; help and contributions from many including politicians, social workers and film stars have been promised. Not just the wealthy, but middle class Indians too contribute and help poor students in need. Sadly, patronage comes rarely to the average student who too must have a go at a better life.
Amit Shukla from Mumbai tells me that his house-help is forgetful, hard of hearing and slow, but they let it slide because in spite of a drunk and abusive husband, she has put her daughter through one of the best colleges in Mumbai and the daughter now works as ground staff for an airline.
These kids need guidance and mentoring as much as financial help. The wealthy couple who supported Kempanna asked him what he wanted to do after school. Kempanna being a brilliant artist, said he wanted to learn painting. He did not know what career options he had except that he could be a drawing teacher.
Shanti, the daughter of construction worker, grew up in my parents’ home. She was bright and willing, but there was continual societal resistance my parents faced to enable her to study through school and college, earn a vocational degree and find a job. When she was married off to a less educated boy according to her parents’ wishes, she ended up supporting him and her two children. But as a Special Educator, Shanti is a shining example of the power of perseverance.
I still remember how her old, illiterate father would sit by the dim light in their jhuggi at night and ask her to read from her English textbook. Often, not knowing much herself, she would repeat the same words in different sequences till the old man, warm in the thought of his little daughter speaking the sahab log’s tongue, fell asleep.
Of patrons & incentives
Indians, cutting across regional, caste and religious lines, have contributed generously towards the admission fee of the four boys from poor families who made it to the IITs this year. All four were coached at Anand Kumar’s Super 30 in Bihar. Anand Kumar, the man on a mission, runs Super 30 that selects 30 kids from very poor families and coaches them free for the prestigious IIT entrance exam. The Pratapgarh brothers’ (Raju and Brajesh) fee has been waived off; help and contributions from many including politicians, social workers and film stars have been promised. Not just the wealthy, but middle class Indians too contribute and help poor students in need. Sadly, patronage comes rarely to the average student who too must have a go at a better life.
Amit Shukla from Mumbai tells me that his house-help is forgetful, hard of hearing and slow, but they let it slide because in spite of a drunk and abusive husband, she has put her daughter through one of the best colleges in Mumbai and the daughter now works as ground staff for an airline.
These kids need guidance and mentoring as much as financial help. The wealthy couple who supported Kempanna asked him what he wanted to do after school. Kempanna being a brilliant artist, said he wanted to learn painting. He did not know what career options he had except that he could be a drawing teacher.
Shanti, the daughter of construction worker, grew up in my parents’ home. She was bright and willing, but there was continual societal resistance my parents faced to enable her to study through school and college, earn a vocational degree and find a job. When she was married off to a less educated boy according to her parents’ wishes, she ended up supporting him and her two children. But as a Special Educator, Shanti is a shining example of the power of perseverance.
I still remember how her old, illiterate father would sit by the dim light in their jhuggi at night and ask her to read from her English textbook. Often, not knowing much herself, she would repeat the same words in different sequences till the old man, warm in the thought of his little daughter speaking the sahab log’s tongue, fell asleep.
Will is the way
Radheshyam Panwariya is an assistant professor of Hindi in the Raisen district of Madhya Pradesh. At the age of eight, he was sent to a government-run hostel for the blind by parents both of who were illiterate. It was among peers that he realised that to gain independence, he would need to educate himself. After completing high school, he hit a dead end and did not know how and what to do with his life. He tells me he had Rs 600 left of his scholarship and nowhere to go. For almost three months, there was little to eat. When an NGO offered him help, he took it for his personal needs, but refused to latch on to them entirely and instead took up a job as a Shiksha Karmi. He studied in the mornings and worked in the afternoon to complete his studies. Many people he met motivated him. The lady who read lessons to him would know when he came hungry and offered food and milk. Whenever he lost sight of his dream of becoming a professor, she reminded him.
Radheshyam is a firm believer of the dictum that one must want to help oneself because he has a brother who too is blind and all his efforts to make the brother realise the value of educating himself and becoming independent, have failed. Kempanna echoes the same sentiment. He says a lot of kids from backgrounds such as his get opportunities but not everyone can go for the ‘kill’ that it requires.
Professor Prabodh Kumar recognised the writer in his domestic help. He encouraged her, and today she’s known as the author, Baby Halder. Bigoted minds can cling to their insecurities, but the wise will give a hand where it is needed. I have just answered the door. It was the raddiwala who collects old newspapers from house to house. He has ignored my calls for the last two days. He smiles as I register displeasure and tells me in his broken Hindi, English and Tamil that his son has got admission into a medical college.
Radheshyam Panwariya is an assistant professor of Hindi in the Raisen district of Madhya Pradesh. At the age of eight, he was sent to a government-run hostel for the blind by parents both of who were illiterate. It was among peers that he realised that to gain independence, he would need to educate himself. After completing high school, he hit a dead end and did not know how and what to do with his life. He tells me he had Rs 600 left of his scholarship and nowhere to go. For almost three months, there was little to eat. When an NGO offered him help, he took it for his personal needs, but refused to latch on to them entirely and instead took up a job as a Shiksha Karmi. He studied in the mornings and worked in the afternoon to complete his studies. Many people he met motivated him. The lady who read lessons to him would know when he came hungry and offered food and milk. Whenever he lost sight of his dream of becoming a professor, she reminded him.
Radheshyam is a firm believer of the dictum that one must want to help oneself because he has a brother who too is blind and all his efforts to make the brother realise the value of educating himself and becoming independent, have failed. Kempanna echoes the same sentiment. He says a lot of kids from backgrounds such as his get opportunities but not everyone can go for the ‘kill’ that it requires.
Professor Prabodh Kumar recognised the writer in his domestic help. He encouraged her, and today she’s known as the author, Baby Halder. Bigoted minds can cling to their insecurities, but the wise will give a hand where it is needed. I have just answered the door. It was the raddiwala who collects old newspapers from house to house. He has ignored my calls for the last two days. He smiles as I register displeasure and tells me in his broken Hindi, English and Tamil that his son has got admission into a medical college.
Friday, June 19, 2015
Good news is no news
You are here: Home » Supplements » Sunday Herald » Good news is no news
Good news is no news
Shefali Tripathi Mehta, June 7, 2015, DHNS
Twelve-year old Sana was looking forward to visiting her grandparents in
the summer vacations. When the family decided to do the long journey from
Bangalore to Delhi by train, her first reaction was a worried, ‘What if the
train meets with an accident?’ Train accidents were all she has seen and known
of train journeys from watching news. That was her immediate recall. All around
us there is news of corruption, scams, killings, abductions, rape, poverty,
negligence, injustice. It does not help that news doesn’t ‘come to us’ like it
did about two decades ago, but we ‘go’ to it. In our Internet-enabled,
connected world, we are constantly being bombarded with news and very often
rumour, scandal or expose in the garb of news.
Breaking news — and all of it is breaking — comes streaming to us as it is unfolding. If it does not update in two seconds on our phones and computers, we refresh and reboot, panicking about what we may be missing out — a catastrophe worse than any tragedy we may be following on news. The FOMO or fear of missing out makes us compulsive news seekers.
In the past few years, I have seen many friends trying to shut out news completely by not subscribing to newspapers or watching it on television. Though how one can insulate oneself thus in times when news has a way of getting to us and not the other way around, is a wonder. How are the readers and viewers coping? What keeps their hopes for a better world alive?
Choose & filter
Girish Ananth, a software professional, says he would gladly rid himself of the habit of reading news online and offline that lead to a nagging sense of despair and depression, but he is addicted. That his job keeps him in front of an Internet-connected computer at all times makes the escape impossible. But he has gradually learned to read between the lines and recognise at a glance whether a news item is sensationalist or agenda-driven or deserving of more attention.
Tisha Srivastav moderates a closed group called ‘Lifeistan’ on Facebook. In the group description she states, ‘I will delete pointlessly negative comments’. A former journalist, Tisha rejects opinionated accounts in favour of field reportage. She believes that people are cynical because they are passive receivers of news. People must exercise what she calls the ‘powerful choice of rejection’ of news. So does Varun Pai, interaction designer, who disregards stories that do not present the ‘other side’ that allow him to put things into perspective and form an independent opinion for himself.
Reading news is part of her job as publication and advocacy officer with the World Health Organization, and Vismita Gupta Smith who was recently in Kathmandu to report the relief operations says depressing as it is, she cannot switch off from news because of her need to stay informed. Marzia Ibrahim, young student and staunch nationalist at heart, wonders how much news is too much. She supports the freedom of the media to report stories, but feels strongly about the ethics that they must follow so as to not infringe on the rights of the people who are part of their stories. Sensationalism and public shaming needs to stop, something that has spiralled out of control with the rise of social media, she rues.
Breaking news — and all of it is breaking — comes streaming to us as it is unfolding. If it does not update in two seconds on our phones and computers, we refresh and reboot, panicking about what we may be missing out — a catastrophe worse than any tragedy we may be following on news. The FOMO or fear of missing out makes us compulsive news seekers.
In the past few years, I have seen many friends trying to shut out news completely by not subscribing to newspapers or watching it on television. Though how one can insulate oneself thus in times when news has a way of getting to us and not the other way around, is a wonder. How are the readers and viewers coping? What keeps their hopes for a better world alive?
Choose & filter
Girish Ananth, a software professional, says he would gladly rid himself of the habit of reading news online and offline that lead to a nagging sense of despair and depression, but he is addicted. That his job keeps him in front of an Internet-connected computer at all times makes the escape impossible. But he has gradually learned to read between the lines and recognise at a glance whether a news item is sensationalist or agenda-driven or deserving of more attention.
Tisha Srivastav moderates a closed group called ‘Lifeistan’ on Facebook. In the group description she states, ‘I will delete pointlessly negative comments’. A former journalist, Tisha rejects opinionated accounts in favour of field reportage. She believes that people are cynical because they are passive receivers of news. People must exercise what she calls the ‘powerful choice of rejection’ of news. So does Varun Pai, interaction designer, who disregards stories that do not present the ‘other side’ that allow him to put things into perspective and form an independent opinion for himself.
Reading news is part of her job as publication and advocacy officer with the World Health Organization, and Vismita Gupta Smith who was recently in Kathmandu to report the relief operations says depressing as it is, she cannot switch off from news because of her need to stay informed. Marzia Ibrahim, young student and staunch nationalist at heart, wonders how much news is too much. She supports the freedom of the media to report stories, but feels strongly about the ethics that they must follow so as to not infringe on the rights of the people who are part of their stories. Sensationalism and public shaming needs to stop, something that has spiralled out of control with the rise of social media, she rues.
Remedy & recourse
We are moved by make-believe; we cry and laugh while watching films. How is it possible that real life events that give rise to fear, anger, frustration or anxiety will not affect our moods and consequently our psychological health? Writer and life coach, Eshwar Sundaresan, says that negative news impacts those already depressed and he has sometimes advised depressed clients to avoid watching news or reading newspapers till they feel better about their own lives.
I asked Sapna G K, a senior counsellor, how despairing news affects people’s overall perception of life. Her response was matter-of-fact, “If one cannot control the events that happen in the world, and if there are more bad things than good, then that is the reality of the situation, which we need to come to terms with.” She says, “If it bothers you to the extent that it’s affecting your personal life, you can choose how much news you want to take in or not at all. Otherwise, do something to make the world a better place in the ways you can — like volunteering and helping others.”
Girish too believes that all sorts of unpleasant things happen over which we have no control, “The world is not a fair place, so why get involved emotionally? Why not just work on our own ‘circle of concern’?” He takes recourse in classical music.
Sandeep
Bekal, entrepreneur, is a regular newspaper reader who tries not to get too
perturbed over bad news because he believes there is a lot good happening too
which does not get reported. Spiritualism helps him keep his hope that things
will change for the better. Kahkashan Ahmad, mother of teenagers who works with
an NGO that helps with the education of underprivileged children, comes across
very inspiring stories of the potential and talents of these children, but
regrets that such uplifting news has no takers. Volunteering keeps her hope
alive.
Editor and translator, Keerti Ramachandra, often shares on Facebook stories of human kindness that she encounters — a passport officer or a cop who goes out of their way and sometimes beyond their call of duty to be helpful. She says that generally news makes her angry and frustrated by its content, but when some act of kindness, some generosity from an unexpected quarter comes by, she is moved enough to believe in the innate goodness of human beings and is immediately hopeful.
Editor and translator, Keerti Ramachandra, often shares on Facebook stories of human kindness that she encounters — a passport officer or a cop who goes out of their way and sometimes beyond their call of duty to be helpful. She says that generally news makes her angry and frustrated by its content, but when some act of kindness, some generosity from an unexpected quarter comes by, she is moved enough to believe in the innate goodness of human beings and is immediately hopeful.
Immediacy
of sharing
The same items pop up on our newsfeeds again and again. We share easily on social media. Many-a-times it is not the need to inform, but a need to show our stand which drives this. In hindsight, a lot of what we share and say may seem unfair or reactionary. A lot of the sensational news on social media remains unauthenticated. Displaying poor taste and discretion, tragedies are laid threadbare for the sake of TRPs because we have become voyeurs of mourning. This adds to a sense of collective gloom and hopelessness. Tisha is very clear in her approach to news consumption — to witness and not react. She says she’s always careful while sharing — never sharing while witnessing, always later. But such a sagacious mindset is not easy to sustain on social media which comes with readers’ reactions. Everyone has a say and it is not always pleasant or thought out. Most responses are not just lacking in sensitivity, propriety and grace, but are often caustic and unfair.
Over the last two decades, the line between news and news features has blurred with news becoming not just emotionalised, but ‘tabloidised’. Our reaction to it is consequently, emotional. Lapses of judgement are not on the part of the media alone, it is a reflection of the reactionary mood of society today — our hurry, our frailty of speaking too soon. These are our failings. We have fed the monster.
The same items pop up on our newsfeeds again and again. We share easily on social media. Many-a-times it is not the need to inform, but a need to show our stand which drives this. In hindsight, a lot of what we share and say may seem unfair or reactionary. A lot of the sensational news on social media remains unauthenticated. Displaying poor taste and discretion, tragedies are laid threadbare for the sake of TRPs because we have become voyeurs of mourning. This adds to a sense of collective gloom and hopelessness. Tisha is very clear in her approach to news consumption — to witness and not react. She says she’s always careful while sharing — never sharing while witnessing, always later. But such a sagacious mindset is not easy to sustain on social media which comes with readers’ reactions. Everyone has a say and it is not always pleasant or thought out. Most responses are not just lacking in sensitivity, propriety and grace, but are often caustic and unfair.
Over the last two decades, the line between news and news features has blurred with news becoming not just emotionalised, but ‘tabloidised’. Our reaction to it is consequently, emotional. Lapses of judgement are not on the part of the media alone, it is a reflection of the reactionary mood of society today — our hurry, our frailty of speaking too soon. These are our failings. We have fed the monster.
Close to the immediacy of sharing comes what I call the ‘immediacy of caring’, an irrepressible phenomenon that has burgeoned out of the quick, cheap and easy means of communication — Internet and mobile phones. My daughter was at school during the serial bomb blasts of July 2008 in Bangalore. My phone began to ring within minutes of the news breaking on television and well-wishers from all parts of the country began to ask if I wasn’t going to fetch her. It wasn’t closing time yet, so I was sure she would be safe in school. I trusted the school authorities to ensure the students’ safety and had no reason to worry as long as she was inside the school with the rest. But pushed thus, I began to panic. The television news was showing the same clips over and over, there was fear of the phone lines getting jammed. Many in my situation would have felt compelled to venture out themselves and create more panic and confusion when there was absolutely no need.
Exploitive and yellow journalism creates scaremongering in the most harmless situations. Film Editor Amitabh Shukla says his father calls him every time it rains in Mumbai. The TV shows everything in the city submerged, without clarifying that it is in pockets. His family’s entire perception of Mumbai floods is based not on what he tells them, but what the TV shows.
A
paradigm shift
Sometime around the 2010s, some people began to feel strongly about showcasing positive, inspiring stories. These soup for soul stories quickly caught up the imagination of the readers who were desperate for stories of courage and motivation as a foil for all the depressing news they were surrounded with. The reach of digital media provided these new news websites a comfortable foothold, and gradually, mass following. These social media-supported news websites like the Better India and Love Hindustan were able to start an alternative news medium and stick their heads out of the media clutter by carrying positive stories alone.
‘We feature positive news across India, celebrate the successes of unsung heroes and change makers, showcase the little known good things about our country...’ Better India declares. “We believed despairing news could not make people contribute and change,” says Dhimant Parekh, founder, the Better India, that started as a two-member team. They began by linking positive articles from various publications on a blog, but it was difficult because there were so few positive stories. Then they started covering feel-good and motivational news themselves and as more people joined and volunteered, the articles became more varied. Today, the Better India has more than 1,00,000 followers on Facebook and about 20,000 followers on Twitter.
Sometime around the 2010s, some people began to feel strongly about showcasing positive, inspiring stories. These soup for soul stories quickly caught up the imagination of the readers who were desperate for stories of courage and motivation as a foil for all the depressing news they were surrounded with. The reach of digital media provided these new news websites a comfortable foothold, and gradually, mass following. These social media-supported news websites like the Better India and Love Hindustan were able to start an alternative news medium and stick their heads out of the media clutter by carrying positive stories alone.
‘We feature positive news across India, celebrate the successes of unsung heroes and change makers, showcase the little known good things about our country...’ Better India declares. “We believed despairing news could not make people contribute and change,” says Dhimant Parekh, founder, the Better India, that started as a two-member team. They began by linking positive articles from various publications on a blog, but it was difficult because there were so few positive stories. Then they started covering feel-good and motivational news themselves and as more people joined and volunteered, the articles became more varied. Today, the Better India has more than 1,00,000 followers on Facebook and about 20,000 followers on Twitter.
Love
Hindustan too is a news portal exclusively dedicated to giving readers ‘the
other side of India that everyday newspapers and websites don’t’. They link
positive news articles from other sources and do some stories themselves. The
Logical Indian is another much-followed news website that focuses on bringing
to its readers social issues that according to them ‘often miss the limelight
in the traditional media’. They have a following of over two million. They have
not limited their content to positive news stories alone and prefer to call
their work, ‘efforts for good’.
Striking
a balance
“We need the media to highlight failings of government bodies, injustices, wrong doings and social problems to create awareness and get people moving towards positive action and hold the government agencies accountable,” says Keerti.
This is exactly what Satyen Bordoloi feels. And there are many like him who are okay with despairing news because it tells them how and where they can channelise their efforts. An activist and documentary filmmaker, Satyen does not want to receive only feel-good, uplifting news. If there is despairing news, it only means he needs to ‘pull up my sleeves to try and do something about it’. He considers all news positive because once reported, all misdeeds and malpractices, corruption and scams can only lead to corrective and positive changes in the society.
Also, news may be upsetting because distressful news sticks to us more easily and surely than feel-good news, says game developer Anando Banerjee. If there were two headlines, ‘India jumps up five places on the Global Happiness Index’ and ‘People die in wall collapse’, we are likely to read and remember the latter better. There is no doubt there is a kind of voyeuristic pleasure in others’ misfortunes, but there is also a sense of relief that ‘it didn’t happen to me’, he adds.
“We need the media to highlight failings of government bodies, injustices, wrong doings and social problems to create awareness and get people moving towards positive action and hold the government agencies accountable,” says Keerti.
This is exactly what Satyen Bordoloi feels. And there are many like him who are okay with despairing news because it tells them how and where they can channelise their efforts. An activist and documentary filmmaker, Satyen does not want to receive only feel-good, uplifting news. If there is despairing news, it only means he needs to ‘pull up my sleeves to try and do something about it’. He considers all news positive because once reported, all misdeeds and malpractices, corruption and scams can only lead to corrective and positive changes in the society.
Also, news may be upsetting because distressful news sticks to us more easily and surely than feel-good news, says game developer Anando Banerjee. If there were two headlines, ‘India jumps up five places on the Global Happiness Index’ and ‘People die in wall collapse’, we are likely to read and remember the latter better. There is no doubt there is a kind of voyeuristic pleasure in others’ misfortunes, but there is also a sense of relief that ‘it didn’t happen to me’, he adds.
As with
everything else in life, we need a balanced dose of news — with the not-so-good
must come the good. News media should make a consistent effort to report
uplifting news along with the disturbing headlines that cannot be ignored.
Political analyst Prashanth Potluri is of the view that newspapers should
ensure that at least the front page always has positive news so that people
have a good start to their day.
News media gives us what we sanction, it runs on our choices. We have to stop feeding the monster we have created by rejecting sensationalism. Mountain-out-of-molehill news would have to stop if we didn’t consume it. It will seem unthinkable today, but on April 18, 1930, the BBC had no news for the evening and it announced, “There is no news today.” The announcement was followed by piano music.
News media gives us what we sanction, it runs on our choices. We have to stop feeding the monster we have created by rejecting sensationalism. Mountain-out-of-molehill news would have to stop if we didn’t consume it. It will seem unthinkable today, but on April 18, 1930, the BBC had no news for the evening and it announced, “There is no news today.” The announcement was followed by piano music.
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
The Invisible Workforce
Shefali
Tripathi Mehta, March 15, 2015, DHNS
A friend related how at a
government-run health clinic where he was required to take shots before
travelling abroad, he was exposed to untold risks at the hands of health
workers who went to the extent of breaking open the injection vial with a
scooter key lying about.
We can get angry, fight, complain, but why is it that these things never change? Why is it that the lady cleaning the corridors leaves patches of the floor unswept and dirt in corners? Why is it that the nurse is callous while doing a dressing? Why is the clerk in a government office unwilling to settle a small issue sending one into a spiral of red tape?
We can get angry, fight, complain, but why is it that these things never change? Why is it that the lady cleaning the corridors leaves patches of the floor unswept and dirt in corners? Why is it that the nurse is callous while doing a dressing? Why is the clerk in a government office unwilling to settle a small issue sending one into a spiral of red tape?
They seem indifferent and
difficult. But what about us who only notice them when they slip or are
‘absent’ from work? If the garbage collectors go off work for a day, we cannot
breathe as rubbish piles up at street corners; in many metros, as in Bangalore,
lives come to a standstill if the water tanker suppliers’ wilful demands are
not met; in homes, we cannot seem to function without the help of maids, drivers
and istriwalas.
Yet, we look down upon their work;
resist their assertion of rights, forming of unions, even a group to protect
their rights; grudge them time-offs; expect them to wear our old clothes and
shoes; buy off at half price our outdated appliances; and feel let down when
they decide to move on in order to improve their station in life.
We would like not to engage with
them and yet want them to function with machine-like precision so our lives may
run smoothly. They are the invisible people who we treat with apathy and often,
much disdain, but whose services we cannot live without.
We may posture as liberal and
unbiased, but we remain at core a classist society and whatever we may say to
counter it, in our minds we still hold people in their ‘correct’ social places
so that the jigsaw of our public life does not appear jumbled. So, when a
street kid enters the world’s largest fast food chain, we don’t know what to
do.
The doorman, unsure of which side
of the plate glass doors that he holds open, he himself belongs, scampers to
save his job, and does what he thinks best to keep the area ‘sanitised’ for the
privileged. Wasn’t that his job in the first place? The unspoken responsibility
his duty demands? Why else do we have doormen if not to keep ‘certain’ people
out? Isn’t that what ‘right to admission reserved’ really implies?
When the woman who has accompanied
the kid inside cries foul, the social media goes into hyper drive to roll eyes
and condemn. Each one of us feels obliged to involve ourselves with the issue
even though we know it is commonplace. Our five-minutes of dinner time
eyebrow-raising changes nothing. Things stay as they were — status quo. Except,
perhaps, the bewildered doorman may have been reprimanded or worse, shown the
door.
Recognition &
appreciation
I remember an incident from early
childhood when a family friend visiting from the US was returning. She was
leaving our small town by train and there was a gathering of people come to see
her off. As the train began to chug away, she stood at the door waving at us.
Noticing the driver of the car that
had brought her and some of the party to the station standing a little away,
she waved out to him. I still remember the elders talking about it days later.
They thought it amusing and somewhat wanton. Drivers are there to drive cars
and not to ‘engage’ with the employers in other ways. Their presence need not
be acknowledged.
Studies show that it is not the
fear of losing job but appreciation by the bosses that motivates employees to
work harder and better. The top reasons why people are bored with their jobs
are because their jobs are not challenging enough; they need more
responsibility; and seek opportunities that will allow them to grow. So it is
hardly surprising that this section of people have little motivation to do
their work well when no one seems to recognise or appreciate their efforts.
When we see a garden blooming,
lovingly cared for, we take pictures to share with friends — our friends,
people in our social circle. Do we ever go to the gardener and tell him what a
wonderful job he is doing? We only complain and report him when we think he is
not. When do we send out a box of mithai to a clerk and not their boss when our
important work comes through? When do we ever return to thank a nurse who has
extended care beyond her call of duty during our time in hospital? Regrettably,
we don’t even know them by their names.
Most parents teach their kids to
address elders with respect. So we have them call elders ‘uncle’ and ‘aunty’.
But we never squirm when little children address this workforce around us as
‘watchman’, ‘driver’ or ‘maid’. When a plumber, electrician or carpenter is
unable to fix our problem, we feel cheated and frustrated. Do we stop to
consider that maybe the problem isn’t with them, but with us who want to pay
these handymen as little as possible? For the money we are ready to part with,
these workmen or the agencies that hire them for us do not find training
economical. So we have an army of half-skilled, unmotivated workers that expose
our lives to unnecessary hassles and risks.
The rights of this section of
workers are not protected by law and they are most often not entitled to any
employment benefits like paid leaves for sickness or maternity, job security,
pension, health insurance or opportunities to grow. It is not surprising that
‘trade/workers unions’ have become a frightening word for the people on the
other side and there is resistance from the employers to let workers organise
themselves thus. This makes them retaliate in ways big and small to wield their
power when they can. When a clerk, frustrated with his job that neither fulfils
his needs nor his heart, sees how we’re at the mercy of his assistance, he
shows us who is in command by making things tough for us.
Dignity & humility
On a sweltering summer afternoon,
we were pulled over by a traffic cop. Irritated because we knew we had not
broken any rule, I rolled the window down only to be asked if I could give him
some water to drink. How we fume at the traffic policemen when they hold us up.
We can never appreciate their tough working conditions — constantly on the
alert in the midst of dust and smoke in harsh weather with no water or washroom
facility for hours together.
Many drivers and house maids have
no washroom facilities in swank apartment, commercial and office complexes. The
thought does not cross the minds of those that build nor those of us that live
or work here. It is not economical to invest in such. Their everyday needs are
beyond our reckoning. A house-help told me about how dirty the family she
worked previously with left the dishes for her to wash. Smeared with gravies
and leftovers that turned putrid by the time she cleaned, she was often left
nauseated. Would we leave them so if one of us had to clean the dishes? These
things happen all the time and we stay smug in our pocket of indifference.
In any service or customer-facing
enterprise, the customer’s feel-good factor is critical. It is the attention to
detail that mainly this staff takes care of that makes all the difference to
our experience. It is this workforce that creates the first impressions of a
place — the house-help who opens the door to greet us, brings a glass of water
with a smile; the obliging receptionist at an office or hospital; the attentive
waiter at our restaurant table.
I was amused to see the remains of
a price sticker clinging to the bottom of not one but two glasses at a luxury
hotel. Millions can be spent on facilities, but the customer can be put off by
ill-mannered, uninvolved, untrained and unskilled staff; by negligence in small
places. To keep them motivated to do their jobs well, we need to treat them
with dignity and humility.
Every talk on dignity of work
begins and ends with us citing Mahatma Gandhi’s advocacy to clean toilets.
Those were the days of manual carrying away and cleaning of the chamber pots.
Gandhiji advocated it because that one task that made a whole ‘class’
untouchable, strips one completely of the ego. Modern day flush toilets, quite
often one per person, do not demand any such exertion of the ego.
In a more democratic set-up where
the social lines are blurred on the surface although they may run deep in our
minds, according dignity to each person doing any work that we may consider
‘lowly’, and treating each with humility, is how our egos will be kept in
check. There are people trying to make a living at street corners by handing us
pamphlets; asking us to fill questionnaires; or those that come knocking at the
door at three in the afternoon selling four-for-the-price-of-one
encyclopaedias; sanitary napkins; home-made pickles and hand-embroidered bed
sheets.
Most often, they are irritants in
our ‘on demand’ living that stipulates that the service that we need reaches us
when we want, and without-hassle. The ‘without-hassle’ would imply among other
things that it should not involve dealing with people whom we consider below
our station.
Treating the lowest labour at work with humility and allowing them to improve and acquire new skills and grow is according dignity to labour. The cook in the house wanted to learn to bake a cake, but the cautious neighbour sounded the bell, “Don’t teach her that! Next house she goes to work in, she’ll ask for more money saying she can also bake.” And, why not? Hasn’t she acquired a new skill? Doesn’t she deserve to do well? How can we deny them what we want for ourselves?
Persistent paradoxes
Treating the lowest labour at work with humility and allowing them to improve and acquire new skills and grow is according dignity to labour. The cook in the house wanted to learn to bake a cake, but the cautious neighbour sounded the bell, “Don’t teach her that! Next house she goes to work in, she’ll ask for more money saying she can also bake.” And, why not? Hasn’t she acquired a new skill? Doesn’t she deserve to do well? How can we deny them what we want for ourselves?
Persistent paradoxes
‘Tolerance’ is a nasty word used
most annoyingly to assert our liberal outlook. Why should we tolerate people,
differences, new ideas, a fresh perspective or changes? We need to do better.
We need to embrace and support these wholeheartedly. In a democratic society,
everyone has the opportunity to thrive and succeed; and they have the right to
not be judged poorly for what is beyond their control like their socio-economic
background or status.
“A daughter-in-law is to be
treated as a member of the family with warmth and affection and not as a
stranger with respectable and ignoble indifference. She should not be treated
as a house maid. No impression should be given that she can be thrown out of
her matrimonial home at any time...” This, according to media reports, was the
observation made by the country’s top court while sentencing a man for
torturing his wife which led her to commit suicide.
What does it mean? How ‘can’ a
house maid be treated? Can she be thrown out of the house anytime? This is the
disadvantage they live with. Our prejudices run deep. We reveal our constricted
mindset in subtle and not so subtle ways. In a face-off between a house maid
and an envoy, is it a surprise that the nation sides with the envoy even before
the details of the case are before us, even before the maid’s side of the story
is heard? Our preoccupation with ‘our’ class has us fuming over the injustice
done to ‘one of us’.
The stereotypical mindset believes
that the maid must be at fault because we have imbibed the notion that ‘these
people’ are conniving and out to cheat us. Just as half-hearted and slipshod
work is rejected with reprimand, every effort to improve and excel has to be
recognised and appreciated.
It may cause a slight societal
still surface disturbance when we step out of our sanitised bubbles to tell the
kitchen help that the cup of coffee is the best; thank the liftman and smile at
the lady sweeping the corridor; reply to the doorman’s greeting; and ask the
courier guy if he would like some water. It is time we started noticing those
standing in the sidelines, those that we would rather not see or hear. It is
time to feel with sincerity the work they do and accord them recognition and
appreciation.
I’m still thinking of this piece as
I step into the food court of an upmarket mall. Seated next to me is a family
of four — young parents and teenage daughters. The girls are holding in their
intricately nail-arted hands elaborate swirls of coned ice-creams and licking
away nonchalantly as a maid — a girl also their age — sits a little away
smiling away her awkwardness. No, she’s not having an ice cream. Should I take
consolation in the fact that she’s allowed to sit at the same table?
Disclaimer: The paper chose to change my headline to: ‘They are one of
us, too’ which goes against my arguments in the piece; completely defeats the objective
of the piece; and is discriminatory.
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