No end to kindergarten grind
This 'n' that
By Renee Ranchan

THANK God that, that time of the year is over. Or at least almost so. And to think I did not really know it was that bad... I knew things out there were tough but to the point where parents with pre-nursery, nursery, kindergarten kids finding the world unbearably flat and grey (and in this weather... spring-time !). I am coming to the point so do hold on.... Met a school friend over tea and scones. This tea-time meeting was my idea — I thought it would automatically transport us back to our world of Enid Blyton’s, Malory Towers. And then we would settle into nostalgic talk. Nostalgia, can be rather delicious, what do you say? However, this pal was down in the dumps. Barely touched the scones and gulped down the tea in one-go after it lay neglected for a good half-hour. I asked her if she would prefer iced tea, instead. No, it was not the tea, she sighed unhappily. Heavy meetings make me uncomfortable and thus I suggested we could ‘reschedule’ our meeting till she felt better. No, it was not her health, she said, but the outcome of the ‘interview’ that had broken her to the point where no mending was possible. (Sachpreet had always been good at needle-work and so that explains the usage of her expressions!) Interview, I did not know she had been planning a job-change.... My friend peered at me over her spectacles. Her look: ‘Why are you always so slow on the uptake?’ She was referring to her four-year-old son Monu’s nursery class admission. She had applied to all the town’s top schools for her son’s admission. But he was not admitted anywhere. And now the smaller, non-descript schools were ‘acting pricey’, informing her that their admission dates/interviews were over but ‘as a special case they would consider the toddler’s case if she consented to contribute an air-conditioner’. You know, all for the welfare of the children. Global warming, now was really beginning to show. All I could recommend to soothe her was some tapestry work. Maybe it would make her feel temporarily better.

That evening on returning home, I could not push Sachpreet’s sad, helpless face out of my mind. Education? What is it all about nowadays? No, it is definitely not about a student burning the proverbial midnight oil, to get those grey cells ticking. And where the body is as important as the mind — sports, games, physical training for a fit body. And there is supposed to be some ‘fun’ in school as well. At least, that is how I remember it. So to delve deeper into the matter, the next day I did some random interviewing, probing.

One disgruntled dad told me the process of ‘shopping’ for the best education begins early. By early he meant before the child was actually born. Was he not exaggerating, just a wee bit, I interjected. The gentleman shook his head vehemently. His wife floated in to tell me that admission forms were to be filled in months before the interview day — parents and child were both to be scrupulously screened.

My next top was a young mother (the above couple sent me a cross to talk to her if I desired a more descriptive picture. My knock opened the door to a lady with a harassed look. By now of course, I understood why.... Before telling her tale, I must comment on her face... have never seen such a transparent one. The kind of face that did all the talking! Here’s her story briefly. The morning her daughter was supposed to be interviewed for pre-nursery admission, she changed her sari five times.... The golden yellow one was rejected by her husband. He did not want the principal and other board members to think she was more into fashion than education. Her mother and mother-in-law (yes, both had come down for the ‘event’) did not approve of the sober beige one because ‘they did not want her to be perceived as dull’. At least they had grounds to agree on something, joked the lady half-heartedly. Despite all the sari-switching and month-long mock interviews (for the kid as well as Mama/Papa) the toddler did not make it to the desired school.

I clucked in sympathy while she ran into the next room to bring her not-quite-four-year-old kid so as to display her brilliance! In other words, I had to see for myself the extent of ‘the injustice’. And you know what? The dilemma of the parents is, however, not as gut-wrenching as seeing these tiny-tots having facts and fully-formed, coagulated sentences rammed down their throats — so as to succeed in the dreaded interview. Some children, because of all the nervous energy that goes into all this preparation, find themselves becoming cranky, hyperactive and yes, even insomniac. The signal that they receive, that too loud and clear is that Mummy-Daddy’s lives depend upon not only clearing the school entrance interview but being one of the toppers.

My next halt: a paediatrician but first let me go back to the young mother. She wished, in a whisper soft voice, that she had done what a friend had done: send someone more experienced, self-assured and savvy to impersonate her. Yes, her friend sure had sense and to think she was not even convent-educated! Now the doctor’s turn: To quote him verbatim "spring-time, that is, when it is admission and examination time, is the time when I have no time for my family or myself!" When asked to elaborate, the doctor says that because of all the mental and physical stress kids go through, they tend to fall sick. "One five-year-old who never had the problem of bed-witting developed this trouble because of emotional stress he put through due to appearing in interview after interview." Of course, it is not that the parents are unaware of the emotional rollercoaster that they are putting their child through, but they comfort themselves with the thought that whatever is being done is for the child’s sake, for his safe and secure future. And if that means yanking little Bittoo or Sonu out of bed at five in the morning for him/her to revise, rehearse (for the umpteenth time) interview lessons, so what? In today’s competitive world you need an early start. Translated, that means, you are never too early to start.

The very worried father of three-year-old Siddharth (met him on my walk, the day I was doing my own little interviewing....) tells me, "One thing is sure — if your child does not get admission in a good school by kindergarten, his being enrolled in higher classes in the same school are slim, minimal. Like, in class I or II there may be only two or three vacant seats! Well, once the hurdle of getting entry into the golden gates of these much touted prestigious schools is crossed, life does not go back to normal. Far from it. Parents still have anxiety attacks... the child should excel and so a private tutor’s services are employed. yes, even when both parents are well-educated. A set of parents confessed, ‘Tutors are in tune’. And so the child returns home from school with a back-breaking satchel and after a quick refreshment gets to ‘work’ with his personal tutor. The masterji helps with the homework and supplies his own set of the same before packing off.

Final examinations are marked by fever, ulcers, tension... all in a frantic pace. The time when both parents and kids are in a nail-biting frenzy. Suicide helplines have come up for school kids... yes, sadly, we all know about them.

And no, all is not history, a prolonged nightmare, when you walk out of those school gates. Career decisions, are now the agenda to tackle. New career options have sprung up, but in our collective mindset, being a doctor, engineer or civil servant are the only real professions. So aptitude or not, money is poured into academies that boom assurances of a 100 per cent success rate in clearing PMT, CET or other ‘life-making tests’. And when you, by a single point, miss out on making it to that professional course, it is back to the grind. Or if the parents can cough up a lump sum of money, admission in a medical/engineering college can be obtained via donation....

Yes, now after a five-year long slog, there at last seems to be light at the end of the tunnel. No more bee-like buzzing to memorise facts. Career and marriage follow.... The fairy-tale is over before it settles in.... Then comes parenthood, when the repeat cycle begins.... your tiny-tot’s admission and all allied educational aches....