Guiding Questions & Reflection

I often teach my students the phrase, “Different does not mean bad, different means interesting.” Being a Global Studies teacher for over 1,000 K-4 elementary students has provided me an opportunity to explore multicultural pedagogies and hone my craft to represent a culturally sensitive space for my diverse learners, as well as those who are part of the dominant culture/race. However, I have framed my macro-concept around the foundation of connections and exploration. Children are, after all, curious creatures who are programmed to make connections to themselves, their experiences, and their learning whenever new information presents itself. Perhaps the most beautiful aspect about most children is their recognition of humanity. As educators, we feel the need to teach students what is right and what is wrong, model for them good choices, and provide opportunities for growth when mistakes are made. However, when it comes to the larger issues that plague the news each night; war, injustice, suffering, a planet losing the battle against those who inhabit and poison it…most students possess a strong moral compass. 

            During my units I incorporate geography and vocabulary. I provide information on the history of a place or people. I incorporate conservation for species indigenous to an area and weave in the idea of service and philanthropy as part of their scaffolding. We incorporate belief systems, customs, traditional clothing, schooling, and (every student’s favorite topic) cuisine. We do this to get an idea of a culture but also to make connections. Connections to a student’s life, family, home, culture, heritage…as these are the competencies needed to be built in order to foster global citizens. The hopes of this generation pouring into the next to be creative collaborators who can save this world from past mistakes. Knowing these components are a critical aspect of my job, I set out on a global fellowship/field experience wondering what it is that will allow me to connect myself to those whom I’ve never met, both American and Indian educators and students?

As it turns out, language is a hurdle-not a barrier…and our shared humanity transcends verbal communication. In my time traveling, experiencing, and parting with India, I forged amazing relationships with those whose lives parallel mine, and those who live very differently. A warm welcome transcends spoken language. Smiles and embraces transcend a properly pronounced hello. Humor and excitement are a language all their own. A meal offered to a stranger is a message unspoken. Perhaps it is the fact that these interactions are understood to be fleeting, and that is what makes them special. Whether that is planting a tree, accepting nourishment from a stranger, holding a pet, milking a cow, experiencing someone’s faith alongside them, or witnessing something for the first time together…it’s bonding. It’s connection. It’s a moment of shared humanity—and that needs no spoken words to fully experience together. It is my belief that the magic that exists within these field experiences is centered around the fact that they are precarious, they are new, they are fleeting—and that is why we hold onto them with our minds and our hearts…because we know there is a likelihood that they may never be replicated in the same way again, which makes them special. These connections are treasures. Those who have the opportunity to collect such treasures in their minds and hearts are truly the richest in the world.

During my field experience in India, I was fortunate to behold a great deal of beauty. However, I was looking for magic. My entire adult life I was sold on the idea that India was a magical place of beauty and wonder with a history beyond what many realize. A place so rich with wealth not accounted for in banks or businesses, that one merely needed to visit to be encompassed by it. I struggled to find that magic. I enjoyed the new experiences, the sites, but I despised being paraded around as some sort of prize pig to numerous events the first week after we arrived. From being forced to front row seats so as to be better seen, to subversive pictures and videos taken without permission, I felt we were more on a parade as a spectacle for certain people’s agenda than we were there to learn and exchange. That is, until I was removed from the hustle and bustle and found my way to a quieter experience at the JVN school. It was there I met Aayushree Malviya, the non-conforming prefect who challenged the status quo and spoke of women’s rights, equality, and the misogyny she experienced as a top-performing student in the school. It should be noted that Aayushree was involved in everything they wanted to show us, she was my guide, she was in plays, she was the leader for the girls academics, she was a captain on the team, she was a moderator…she seemed to have the status of faculty as a student. I saw my 17-year-old self reflected back in her beautifully defiant eyes. We would become fast friends. 

         Personally, I experienced myriad instances of blatant sexism, misogyny, and patriarchal oppression during my stay in India. From requesting a different hotel room, being repeatedly ignored, not being asked my order until all of the men were done ordering, refusal at my attempts to pay for a meal, a host of issues at one of the hotels (including lying to me about my room NOT being a smoking room when there was an ashtray and complimentary matches set out—and the room reeked of cigarette smoke). It was an affront and one the men were not experiencing. I struggled. It reminded me of growing up in rural Indiana as one of the only girls in class and having to fight my way (sometimes quite literally) up the ladder of boys to be considered for my opinions, thoughts, and intellect. I wasn’t expecting it to be such a stark reminder of decades that had past. But it was. That is, until I found the magic in India.

         Perhaps the magic I discovered is not what everyone else experiences. In fact, I’m quite certain it isn’t. The magic I discovered was in India’s girls and women. I watched the girls do laps around boys in the science and math classrooms. At the trade school it was the boys who were verbose and jocular while the girls focused on their wiring. In the markets it was the women who haggled and negotiated fiercely while men paid whatever was listed as the price. I stood there, as an educator, and opened my eyes to the work ethic, the determination, the grit that these girls exhibited every day at school—even when they knew that the rules were unfair. Girls rise at 5:00 to do P.E. in the morning while boys sleep until 6:00. Girls have on a brief hour of “down” time each day to relax, focus on their own interests, or socialize with other girls. Boys have more time. The schedule is meant to keep everyone busy and accountable nearly every minute of the day. When I said this during our goodbye ceremony, I was impassioned. I explained the magic I witnessed; the magic of India lies within the women who are rising up. The principal did not like this sentiment. He claimed the magic was in all of the teachers (and gestured to the side with all men). I disagreed. What I consider magic is my magic to experience, and much like these girls, it cannot be taken away from me just because a man in a position of authority deems it so. 

            Here, in the U.S. we say that women are equal (they are not treated as so-and we have the regressive legislation to prove that). In the U.S. we have gender norms and glass ceilings and truth that is counterintuitive to the claim that women are treated equally. The difference is that India doesn’t really make such bold claims. The class system and sexism are very much a transparent (though problematic) part of the culture. It has made strides in the right direction, but has a long way to go (as does the world)…but these young women who possess the ferocity to claim what is theirs, is a sight that invokes hope. I believe there is magic within them, and I cannot wait to see how they transform the world.