Introversion not an impediment
WITH the abrupt announcement of the summer vacation due to soaring temperatures, most of the children’s books were left behind in the classrooms —much to their relief. Parents promptly received messages from class teachers, imploring them to collect their wards’ books the following day.
As I entered the school, carrying my son’s empty backpack, I could feel the oppressive heat — even at 8 am. My intent was to discreetly slip into the classroom, retrieve the books meticulously arranged by the co-educator and make a quiet exit without drawing attention. Being an introvert myself, I harboured the hope of avoiding the customary chatter among the mothers who stood in a tightly knit circle — akin to a huddle of players strategising before a match — deliberating over which summer camp would best mould their child into the next Virat Kohli or Arijit Singh. My son and I had no such ambitions. Our ideal vacation was one enveloped in the tranquillity of our home.
As I packed the books into the bag, the co-educator approached me with the fervour of a prosecuting attorney closing in on a vulnerable witness. My stomach churned when she told me: ‘I hope you are aware that Class III has a play this year.’ I said ‘Yes, ma’am’ like a student. She continued: ‘Right, I hope he actually opens the script we are giving to each child because he barely opens his mouth in the class.’ My mouth went dry, and words seemed to elude me despite my best efforts. All I could muster was: ‘But he has been doing theatre for almost a year now.’ She dismissed my statement nonchalantly, saying, ‘Oh, but that is different, na.’
I pondered, is it really so? Aren’t we discussing performing on a stage, an activity my son has eagerly anticipated for a year? Realising that any further discussion would be futile, I reluctantly concluded our exchange. To her, my son’s introversion was an impediment, a problem to be rectified in a societal and educational structure obsessed with team culture, with teachers metaphorically poised to dispense ‘Vitamin Ex(troversion)’.
Penalising a child for his or her authentic self can yield deleterious long-term effects. If children are chastised for their authenticity, they may soon cloak themselves in defence mechanisms such as arrogance, disobedience and potentially destructive addiction later in life.
Much has changed over the years, but not the loathsome and dreaded holidays’ homework. The very term strikes me as a misnomer — how can one enjoy a holiday when burdened by the weight of work? As my son and I look forward to immersing ourselves in the enchanting world of Ruskin Bond as part of a school project, I find myself thinking of an assignment for teachers. Perhaps they, too, should embark on some holidays’ homework. A befitting beginning would be to delve into Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain.
