Schools are meant to be spaces of learning, growth, and care. Yet, far too often, they become places where authority overshadows empathy, and discipline takes precedence over respect for children's dignity. Through my research, I have encountered numerous instances that reveal the stark contrast between how educators present their role and how they actually interact with students.
Story 1: The Principal’s Projection Versus Reality
During a visit to a school where we were testing an educational product, I interacted with the principal and teachers, who spoke passionately about nurturing students. The principal was so soft-spoken that I had to ask her multiple times to speak louder since I could barely hear her sitting literally one-foot away from me.
Later that afternoon, when I met with the students, I asked one of them to guide me to the washroom. Knowing that the guest washroom was accessible through the staffroom, he led me in that direction. As soon as we entered, the principal and teachers yelled at the child for stepping into the staffroom without permission—without even noticing I was right behind him. The very same people who had spoken about nurturing children had, in an instant, reduced this student to a rule-breaker, unworthy of even a moment of inquiry.
Story 2: What you see is not what you get
Typically, when conducting research in schools, we are given isolated spaces to conduct interviews, far removed from the daily workings of the institution. However, on one occasion, I was seated in a room surrounded by classrooms, allowing me to observe the school environment firsthand.
As I walked in, the scent of incense and an oil lamp at the entrance suggested an effort to create a positive atmosphere. But over the next four hours, this initial impression crumbled. I heard teachers yelling at students. I saw them patrolling the corridors with sticks, treating them as essential tools rather than disciplinary exceptions.
The most heartbreaking moment came when I saw a child sitting quietly in his classroom, eating his tiffin while completing his work. He was not disturbing anyone, yet a teacher stormed in and scolded him for simply being there. In a space where joy should have been fostered, it was being tested at every turn. And yet, children continued to laugh and play—not because of their environment, but despite it.
Story 3: A Mother’s Fight for Dignity
Amidst these unsettling observations, I found hope in a story shared by a mother whose child suffered from epilepsy. His medication made him groggy, and on one occasion, he was slow to take out his book when instructed by a new teacher. Frustrated, she flung his notebook away.
When he shared this with his mother, she went to school the next day to speak with the teacher. The teacher, defensive and dismissive, retorted, Who are you to question me in my classroom? The mother stood her ground: I am the ultimate authority on my child. He is a child with a medical condition—you are a fully functioning adult - what is your excuse for your behaviour?
She escalated the issue to the principal, who, to their credit, investigated the complaint and found that the teacher had been routinely harsh with students. The school took action and asked her to step down. But how many principals would have the objectivity and courage to take such a stance?
Story 4: The Child Who Asked Too Many Questions
I happened to talk to a girl, around 8 or 9 years old, who was walking in a corridor when a teacher yelled at her out of the blue. "I have been hearing that you have not been behaving yourself in class—getting impatient and troubling all the teachers with too many questions."
I asked the child what her response was. She said, "I just shyly smiled at the teacher and kept quiet since I did not want to enrage her even more. I really wanted to ask her how her pet was doing, since on another occasion, she had mentioned it was ill. Maybe I'll ask her tomorrow."
Children are that forgiving. But should we take their forgiving and loving nature for granted?
The Larger Issue: A Culture of Fear and Compliance
These stories reflect a systemic issue. Parents, even when aware of mistreatment, hesitate to speak up, fearing that their child will face retaliation. Discussions in parenting groups are filled with concerns about school authorities, and for many, the only recourse is to change schools. Unlike earlier times, when children would spend a decade in one institution, it is now common for them to switch schools multiple times due to an unsupportive environment. Though they leave the comfort zone of familiar friendships, I would still consider these children lucky as opposed to those who do not find neither their family nor school adults understanding what they go through. Student suicide rates, children running away from schools and homes are on the rise. Every time an email about a missing student circulates on WhatsApp groups - it sends shivers down the spine of parents who fear, ‘what if this child could be my own’. In a few days or weeks the incident is overshadowed by some other.
While much is being discussed about educational reforms, emotional well-being remains a blind spot. Schools, institutions created for children's welfare, often fail them the most. Principals defend teachers, citing a shortage of good educators, and refrain from addressing emotionally unregulated behaviour among staff. Adults who work as teachers sometimes do not even realise the numerous ways they violate the dignity of a child with just their words. When a parent yells at a child, he / she often feels guilt and remorse since the loss of connection with their own children is palpable. This leads some parents to reflect and question their own behaviour and make amends. But what incentive do teachers have to even feel this guilt or remorse with the numerous children they encounter everyday. Once the connection is lost, the system is quick to label the child. Distracted, Disengaged, Disrespectful - we have fancier labels today ADHD, Hyperactive, lacking intent to learn. All the last 12 years of talking to children - I have yet to come across a child who did not have the ‘intent to learn’ and yet adults label them so casually and almost justifying their diagnosis of the child.
SEL: A Buzzword Without Practice
Social-emotional learning (SEL) has become a trendy concept in education. Schools proudly include it in their vision statements, but the reality is often the opposite of what they claim. Instead of being actively practiced by adults, SEL is merely preached to children. The very educators responsible for fostering emotional intelligence often struggle to exhibit it themselves.
A Call for Reflection
Every interaction between an adult and a child holds the potential to uplift or diminish. Are children being heard, or merely controlled? When authority is exercised, is it done with care, or simply out of habit? Do adults recognise the impact of their words and actions, or do they wield their power without reflection? Perhaps the real test of a school's culture is not in what it claims but in how children feel about their teachers while they are within its walls. Do they feel safe, respected, and valued? Or are they simply learning to navigate a world where authority must never be questioned?
For every adult who feels justified in violating the spirit of a child in an attempt to ‘correct’ their behaviour, I want to ask - what’s your excuse?
#ChildRights #EducationReform #SilentCrisis #RespectChildren #MentalHealthInSchools #LearningAndDevelopment #EdLeadership #SocialImpact #EducationalEquity #qualitativeresearch #qualitativeresearchindia
