How Indian school education is quietly collapsing

Dipak Kurmi
Contd from previous issue
You cannot reasonably expect pedagogical miracles from professionals whose working lives are fragmented across clerical obligations. No amount of training can compensate for time stolen from teaching, nor can motivational slogans substitute for institutional trust. Education, unlike data, does not improve through relentless monitoring; it improves through sustained engagement.
And yet, despite this systemic indifference, teachers endure. They innovate within overcrowded classrooms, mentor students beyond official hours and shoulder emotional labour that no portal can upload. They become counsellors, role models and anchors of stability in lives often shaped by uncertainty. They persist not because the system is kind or rational, but because conscience refuses surrender. This quiet resilience, however, should not be romanticised. Endurance born of duty is not a substitute for justice, and goodwill cannot indefinitely compensate for institutional neglect.
The consequences of this model extend beyond teachers themselves. A system that treats educators as administrative resources inevitably diminishes the quality of education it delivers. Students absorb not only lessons but signals about value and respect. When they see their teachers harried, distracted and disempowered, the hidden curriculum teaches compliance over curiosity and submission over thought. Over time, this erodes the very foundations of a democratic and knowledge- driven society. A nation that claims education as its backbone cannot afford to hollow out the profession that sustains it.
The solution, contrary to bureaucratic instinct, is neither complex nor expensive. Clerical work must be done by clerks. Technology should be designed to reduce workload, not multiply it through redundant data demands and malfunctioning platforms. Policymakers must step into classrooms before drafting reforms, experiencing firsthand the distance between policy intent and classroom reality. Most importantly, teachers must be trusted to teach. Trust is not an abstract virtue; it is expressed through time, autonomy and respect. Without these, even the most well-funded reforms will remain performative.
If education is indeed the nation’s backbone, its teachers cannot continue as exploited administrative labour. A system that forces the lamp to count shadows instead of spreading light should not be surprised when darkness becomes policy. Restoring the dignity of teaching is not an act of charity; it is an investment in the intellectual and moral future of the country. Until that recognition translates into action, the irony will remain seated in the staff room, patiently observing a nation that asks its teachers to do everything except what they were trained to do.

(The writer can be reached at dipakkurmiglpltd@gmail.com)