University spaces are a means to escape one's existing material conditions in pursuit of overall excellence. The opportunities and exposure do make us financially able and better off, but do they also make everyone socially adept and conscious of societal understanding? Not everyone who enters university spaces ends up with the same level of experience and living standards. The barriers to entry and graduation aren't mitigated successfully through the course of the degree.
In 2014, Aniket Ambhore, a 22-year-old Dalit student, died by suicide at IIT Bombay. In 2016, another Dalit student, Rohith Vemula hanged himself in a hostel room at the University of Hyderabad. In 2019, Dr Payal Tadavi committed suicide following caste-based harassment, and recently, 18-year-old Dalit student Darshan Solanki ended his life at the IIT Bombay campus. According to a report released in December 2022 by the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB), student suicides in India are at a five-year high and have been exacerbated by the pandemic.
We do not yet have conclusive evidence to suggest the cause behind the rise of suicide rates, but if universities are spaces for human liberation and overall well-being, why are students ending their lives? Why are the laboratories of human excellence tending to look like scary places?
The lack of representation
In public discourse, the discussion about inequality and discrimination in Indian educational spaces is often immediately slammed down by debates over 'merit' and worthiness to belong. The premier public educational spaces in the country do not even have a bare minimum number of faculty members from underrepresented communities. The trend is similar in PhD and other research communities.
Most of these institutions fail to field the "worthy" candidates from the underrepresented community; naturally, if there is a dearth of research scholars, the numbers would not translate into faculty positions either. And this is the case in public universities -- let alone private institutions that seem like a distant dream for the marginalised. Neither is there a mechanism to keep the blatant gatekeeping and inaccessibility of private institutions in check. In the last five years, more than 150 private institutions have sprawled up , but, unsurprisingly, they have become the reserve of the dominant classes, from the students to faculty -- all under the garb of merit.
The gatekeepers at universities
One of the first challenges that overwhelm and immediately put off students from marginalised communities is the entry process itself -- from qualifying exams to admissions. Forms for prestigious entrance exams like Common Law Entrance Test (CLAT), Common Admission Test (CAT), Common Entrance Examination for Design (CEED), and now Common University Entrance Test (CUET), are exclusionary in nature. The fees for registration are, in some cases, equivalent to the monthly income of families hailing from rural hamlets and bastis, thus denying them even the opportunity to appear. Masses of students are categorically left out. And those who get the right to compete, clearing heavily guarded entrances is a daunting task under the notion of 'merit' supremacy, a system that caters to those with massive social and economic capital.
The very concept of knowledge creation and what constitutes education seems favourable to the interests of dominant social groups. Despite there being a pursuit of knowledge about the marginalised, their interests, curriculum, pedagogy, and research takes a backseat simply because they have little representation in books, teaching, or research material. Locally acquired knowledge makes them feel alienated from mainstream university spaces. I believe it is a systematic and manufactured distancing of knowledge from the majority masses by the dominant groups.
Meritocracy ensures that only those who can adjust to such knowledge systems can occupy spaces in the educational or policymaking realms while the others get filtered out. Even if a student from a marginalised background overcomes the hurdles, the fee and cost of living in university spaces are simply unaffordable. In the era of privatisation, quality-cum-affordable higher education simply remains a dream for many. For first-generational learners, the temple of 'mother-goddess English' is another heavy obstacle to cross -- the inability to cope and keep up with the language is an ever-persisting problem that only ends up furthering an inferiority complex.
In India, a person's caste tells so much about their history, ancestry, background, belonging, and everything far and between. Like in all public spaces, in universities too, asking about the surname is a subtle yet implosive tool employed to determine one's caste location. If they cannot determine caste from your surname, they use ranking as a criterion to judge your worth and belongingness. Let me give an example of the most prestigious 'institutes of eminence' -- the IITs. In an internal survey published this month, 37 per cent of Scheduled Caste (SC) and Scheduled Tribes (ST) students at IIT Bombay claim that they were asked about their entrance examination rank with the intention of finding out their caste.
Is there a way out?
Caste-based discrimination that one sees in universities is an expression of years of indoctrination at home. "Caste is indoctrinated at home, and When the students enter university campuses, they bring their own preconceived casteist notions, social biases, etc. Hence, it is pertinent in campuses to educate students about multiple forms of discrimination, so they overcome it," says Sukhdeo Thorat.
All these attitudes find expression in multiple ways. "Inside classrooms, caste is manifested in microscopic, complex, and subtler ways; as long as one is not at the receiving end of it, it goes unnoticed," says R Thirunavukkarasu in his work, Social Hegemony in Contemporary India. It is time that our educational spaces start caste and gender awareness programmes. There should be a mandatory curriculum on civics like in American and German universities about racism and apartheid. Simultaneously, faculty, administration, staff, and students should be given orientation on democratic ethos, values, and egalitarian policies. To address the ever-persistent gap in the appointment of Dalit, Bahujan, and Adivasi faculties, the government should set up an autonomous body to ensure successful faculty recruitment from marginalised communities.
All these measures should be instituted at the structural level. The SC and the ST (Prevention of Atrocities) Act 1989 should be strengthened and dynamically modified to accommodate the varied levels of discrimination manifested in subtle forms. Every college should come up with an SC-ST cell of its own. In 2013, to prevent sexual harassment against women, the Vishaka Guidelines were introduced under the Sexual Harassment of Women at Workplace (Prevention, Prohibition and Redressal) Act to mitigate gender-based discrimination in professional spaces. On similar grounds, there is a need to strengthen the case for the proposed 'Rohith Act' to prevent caste and religion-based discrimination on campuses.
Mind as the ultimate goal
Through my college years and past work experiences, I witnessed many mental health crises first-hand. In India, though, we are far from understanding and democratising access to mental health care. At present, the discourse and expenses surrounding it seem unattainable to most people. Thus, it is pertinent to understand the lived realities of students, understanding the patterns, contexts, and meanings of their lives. Only then can we work toward it at a systemic level. Simultaneously, there is a need to have mental health and academic counsellors from marginalised communities so that there can be greater empathy between students and professionals.
Considering the varying experiences and struggles of students, many global universities are amending their programmes in accordance with diversity, equity, and inclusivity (DEI) principles. American universities, too, are giving caste a much-needed protected category due.
Ever since I started my higher education journey, I have realised that despite the best interests and considerations of authorities, systemic or institutional changes can only take us so far. With the advent of democracy, B R Ambedkar suggested, the cultivation of the mind according to the principles of liberty, equality, and fraternity should be the ultimate goal of humanity. Such constitutional principles should be deeply inculcated in everyone's life. Only then can we think or hope for a better future.
Paulo Freire in his book Pedagogy of the Oppressed theories liberation as a goal of pedagogy, yet he says the current education system is based on the "banking model", which keeps students from pursuing curiosity over material goals. In a similar vein, the Indian education system seems to be going farther from its intended purpose. Thus, it is the need of the hour to establish social justice-oriented intellectual and theoretical models in our lives.
Raju Kendre is the founder of Eklavya India foundation, which works towards the democratisation of higher education. He tweets @RajuKendree. Views are personal.
Source:
The Print
0 COMMENTS
