Of Teachers , Monitors and The Bishops School, Pune

 

When I was a school boy , which seems like about a hundred odd ago now, there was one person who I always looked forward to knowing about, before all others, at the start of the school year – that person was the class teacher!

The subject teachers always came second, and they too had a pecking order.

 Looking back, for me it was always in the same order – English, Math, Science, Hindi – History, Geography, Art, PE etc all followed. For me Hindi was a bug bear- I was usually, not very fond of the Hindi teacher, and I presume, the feeling was mutual.

Looking back, I can surprisingly remember most of my class teachers, starting from Grade one. Over the years, if I knew the class teacher or had interacted with her / him before, it gave me a sense of comfort and security. I loved it when the class teacher had taught me a subject the year before. In that way it was a known entity. I do remember some of the subject teachers, but only because I was either very good, or very week in their subject- or else they had been a terror and someone who I had been mortally scared of.

If one heard that the class teacher was someone who had not taught them before, then enquires were made to find out “details”. Were they strict was usually the first question. Were they extra particular about haircuts, turn out, punctuality came next? For all teachers, irrespective of the subject they taught, there was always the “are they strict or lenient in marking test and exam scripts/ can you cheat”!

Somehow, many of my class teachers either taught English or Math – I was very good in one and rather weak in the other, so it was either a good year or a not so good one for me!

On the first day of school, one usually had a chance to meet most of the teachers. The known entities were greeted warmly and there was a sort of “hail fellow well met” atmosphere from the start. They would talk to the ones they were close to. They would look at the known troublemakers and use phrases like “not you again” or, OMG we meet again”. Often you would hear a teacher say, “how the hell did you manage to pass”. Then of course, there were their favourites, who would be greeted with “Good to see you – how is your mother / father”. Or “at least I have the same monitor”.

It was always fun when the known lenient ones entered the classroom on the first day- there was clapping, hooting &  cheering while they tried their best to bring some sort of order to the chaos – one could almost hear a combined sigh of relief from the entire class, as we looked forward to a year of fun, at least in one period.

The strict teachers usually started with a lecture which went something like this: -

“You may have heard of me – I don’t fool around. I can be very good or very bad so do not try to play games with me as you will regret it. No noise in my class if not you will be out. Make sure my homework is completed and I do not want any excuses. If you do not study, you are sure to fail”.

Now, if they were old teachers in the school, this lecture was usually skipped as their reputation had preceded them. This was usually said by the newer lot or someone who had been told by other staff that this was a so called “wild class”.

Of course, there were the known “excellent teachers” and most boys hoped they would teach them – they were greeted warmly and with a lot of respect – parents too knew who these people were, and often requested the Principal to put their ward in that teachers’ class.

Next came the business of Monitors!

Being made  a monitor in the Primary and middle school was something of an achievement and a Monitor was a coveted post. There was the class Monitor – Usually a tall, big made, tough guy who other boys feared, and who could keep the class in control when the teacher was not present. There was usually an assistant monitor too – equally big built – both were often friends.

I was short, thin and you could have referred to me as puny, so I was never made the class monitor. On a few occasions, I was made the Cupboard monitor, the Attendance Register monitor, or the Staffroom monitor.

The cupboard monitor kept the keys of the small class cupboard. In it were the various registers and above all, exercise books in which boys did the Subject tests. One was always warned never to lose or misplace the keys.  The Attendance Register monitor handled the Attendance for the class, while the staff room monitor went to and from the staff room carrying books for the teacher. I forgot to mention the blackboard monitor- usually a tall boy who could reach the top of the blackboard which he had to clean after every period. He also kept the chalk and duster in his desk. If he chanced to leave his desk open, sticks of chalk were stolen within minutes, and a chalk fight ensued as soon as the teacher had left the class. Some brave lads popped pieces of chalk at each other during a lesson – a few tried their aim at the teacher and God forbid they got caught. A few enterprising teachers had Fan and Light monitors and Display board monitors too but they were not very coveted posts. I remember a boy was once punished for the whole day outside the class – He was the Fan and light monitor and he had not switched the fans and lights off after school the previous day.

When I joined Bishops in 1981, nothing much seemed to have changed from when I was in school.

 Boys still waited to see who the class teacher was and who the various subjects’ teachers were. The lenient teachers were still welcomed with howling, cheering, and clapping and being a monitor was still much coveted. The strict teachers were given time to settle down and they hardly smiled – at least not during the first few weeks. Their lessons also began on day one.  A brave boy or two would try and crack a wise joke or ask a stupid question but the retort would be crisp &  everyone soon knew how far they could go.

I started as a Class teacher in 5A and surprise of surprises I still remember my two monitors – Mangnani and Vivek Sood. They were intelligent chaps and assisted me with various tasks.

I would like to add – being a monitor of any sort was usually a first lesson in Leadership, and innumerable boys have told me how it helped them build confidence, become reliable, focussed and task oriented.

Many monitors held similar posts in various classes throughout their school years  and usually ended up as School Prefects and Captains – I never did.

I distinctly remember a master telling me that I lacked Leadership qualities!  He was right at that time!   

Were you ever a monitor or a Prefect? Would love to hear your story.

Of Teachers , Monitors and The Bishops School, Pune

 

When I was a school boy , which seems like about a hundred odd ago now, there was one person who I always looked forward to knowing about, before all others, at the start of the school year – that person was the class teacher!

The subject teachers always came second, and they too had a pecking order.

 Looking back, for me it was always in the same order – English, Math, Science, Hindi – History, Geography, Art, PE etc all followed. For me Hindi was a bug bear- I was usually, not very fond of the Hindi teacher, and I presume, the feeling was mutual.

Looking back, I can surprisingly remember most of my class teachers, starting from Grade one. Over the years, if I knew the class teacher or had interacted with her / him before, it gave me a sense of comfort and security. I loved it when the class teacher had taught me a subject the year before. In that way it was a known entity. I do remember some of the subject teachers, but only because I was either very good, or very week in their subject- or else they had been a terror and someone who I had been mortally scared of.

If one heard that the class teacher was someone who had not taught them before, then enquires were made to find out “details”. Were they strict was usually the first question. Were they extra particular about haircuts, turn out, punctuality came next? For all teachers, irrespective of the subject they taught, there was always the “are they strict or lenient in marking test and exam scripts/ can you cheat”!

Somehow, many of my class teachers either taught English or Math – I was very good in one and rather weak in the other, so it was either a good year or a not so good one for me!

On the first day of school, one usually had a chance to meet most of the teachers. The known entities were greeted warmly and there was a sort of “hail fellow well met” atmosphere from the start. They would talk to the ones they were close to. They would look at the known troublemakers and use phrases like “not you again” or, OMG we meet again”. Often you would hear a teacher say, “how the hell did you manage to pass”. Then of course, there were their favourites, who would be greeted with “Good to see you – how is your mother / father”. Or “at least I have the same monitor”.

It was always fun when the known lenient ones entered the classroom on the first day- there was clapping, hooting &  cheering while they tried their best to bring some sort of order to the chaos – one could almost hear a combined sigh of relief from the entire class, as we looked forward to a year of fun, at least in one period.

The strict teachers usually started with a lecture which went something like this: -

“You may have heard of me – I don’t fool around. I can be very good or very bad so do not try to play games with me as you will regret it. No noise in my class if not you will be out. Make sure my homework is completed and I do not want any excuses. If you do not study, you are sure to fail”.

Now, if they were old teachers in the school, this lecture was usually skipped as their reputation had preceded them. This was usually said by the newer lot or someone who had been told by other staff that this was a so called “wild class”.

Of course, there were the known “excellent teachers” and most boys hoped they would teach them – they were greeted warmly and with a lot of respect – parents too knew who these people were, and often requested the Principal to put their ward in that teachers’ class.

Next came the business of Monitors!

Being made  a monitor in the Primary and middle school was something of an achievement and a Monitor was a coveted post. There was the class Monitor – Usually a tall, big made, tough guy who other boys feared, and who could keep the class in control when the teacher was not present. There was usually an assistant monitor too – equally big built – both were often friends.

I was short, thin and you could have referred to me as puny, so I was never made the class monitor. On a few occasions, I was made the Cupboard monitor, the Attendance Register monitor, or the Staffroom monitor.

The cupboard monitor kept the keys of the small class cupboard. In it were the various registers and above all, exercise books in which boys did the Subject tests. One was always warned never to lose or misplace the keys.  The Attendance Register monitor handled the Attendance for the class, while the staff room monitor went to and from the staff room carrying books for the teacher. I forgot to mention the blackboard monitor- usually a tall boy who could reach the top of the blackboard which he had to clean after every period. He also kept the chalk and duster in his desk. If he chanced to leave his desk open, sticks of chalk were stolen within minutes, and a chalk fight ensued as soon as the teacher had left the class. Some brave lads popped pieces of chalk at each other during a lesson – a few tried their aim at the teacher and God forbid they got caught. A few enterprising teachers had Fan and Light monitors and Display board monitors too but they were not very coveted posts. I remember a boy was once punished for the whole day outside the class – He was the Fan and light monitor and he had not switched the fans and lights off after school the previous day.

When I joined Bishops in 1981, nothing much seemed to have changed from when I was in school.

 Boys still waited to see who the class teacher was and who the various subjects’ teachers were. The lenient teachers were still welcomed with howling, cheering, and clapping and being a monitor was still much coveted. The strict teachers were given time to settle down and they hardly smiled – at least not during the first few weeks. Their lessons also began on day one.  A brave boy or two would try and crack a wise joke or ask a stupid question but the retort would be crisp &  everyone soon knew how far they could go.

I started as a Class teacher in 5A and surprise of surprises I still remember my two monitors – Mangnani and Vivek Sood. They were intelligent chaps and assisted me with various tasks.

I would like to add – being a monitor of any sort was usually a first lesson in Leadership, and innumerable boys have told me how it helped them build confidence, become reliable, focussed and task oriented.

Many monitors held similar posts in various classes throughout their school years  and usually ended up as School Prefects and Captains – I never did.

I distinctly remember a master telling me that I lacked Leadership qualities!  He was right at that time!   

Were you ever a monitor or a Prefect? Would love to hear your story.

There are all sorts of drivers out there

 Another story - another day

Driving back from an exhausting meeting a few weeks ago, three things happened in a span of an hour that set me thinking. There are some careless and irresponsible drivers out there, and then there are some bizarre clowns.

The first was ‘actually’ a first for me, and something I had never seen before. A man in a rather weather-beaten Honda Civic, was first tailgating and then flashing an ambulance!

Now I am not sure whether the ambulance had an occupant or not, but that is beside the point. The audacity of the act itself, took me by surprise. Not only is tailgating a punishable offence but flashing an ambulance should soon be added to the list if it is not already there. It is just not on & I consider it the height of impudence.

The second was a rather humongous vehicle, a tanker of some sorts, with about 16 wheels, which was carrying some hazardous liquid - all 36,000 litres of it. It had the word ‘DANGER’ printed in large red letters on both sides. I would like to believe I am quite a prudent & cautious driver, but the guy of the vehicle in question, was either a novice or else, like me at times - had a poor sense of direction! (I now use Google maps)

Whenever I see such vehicles, my senses go on high alert and I have, in the past, imagined the worst, when passing them.

However, that’s another story, so let me set the scene for you here.

We were both driving parallel to each other at a steady 80 kmph on a lovely wide road. He was on my right. Suddenly, he veered towards me, as he saw an exit to my left and obviously wanted to use the approaching flyover. Indicators on, he bulldozed his way across my path, almost sideswiping me in the bargain. I cursed under my breath and let it pass. Fifteen seconds later, he was back in front of me as he had changed his mind and about a hundred meters down the road, he finally exited to the right. If that was not dangerous driving what is.

Then came the mother of all drivers, literally and figuratively speaking.

I had probably slowed down a bit, when suddenly, out of nowhere, I spotted a lady in a small white car – probably a ‘Tida’- flashing me furiously from behind. To get my attention she even sounded her horn a few times. I was in the fast lane and the road we were on was quite empty as it was afternoon, so I pulled to my right to let her pass by. However, as she came up on my left side she slowed down, lowered her window glass, and gestured me to do so. I followed instructions, all the time wondering what the matter was. She then waved & simultaneously shouted out a question- “which way to Global village”?

If I had my way, if it were possible, and if I knew how, I would have got out and punctured her tires – yes, all four of them. Couldn’t she follow road signs?

My gentlemanly instincts soon got the better of me & I immediately remembered how I had got horribly lost when going to the global village last year and a couple of times before as well, so I smiled and asked her to follow me. She did so for about three km and I then signalled to her to branch off to the right, as I carried on.

On hindsight now , I have learnt just one way to get to the Global village and we were nowhere near that road so I probably sent her off in the wrong direction .

There are all sorts of drivers out there

 Another story - another day

Driving back from an exhausting meeting a few weeks ago, three things happened in a span of an hour that set me thinking. There are some careless and irresponsible drivers out there, and then there are some bizarre clowns.

The first was ‘actually’ a first for me, and something I had never seen before. A man in a rather weather-beaten Honda Civic, was first tailgating and then flashing an ambulance!

Now I am not sure whether the ambulance had an occupant or not, but that is beside the point. The audacity of the act itself, took me by surprise. Not only is tailgating a punishable offence but flashing an ambulance should soon be added to the list if it is not already there. It is just not on & I consider it the height of impudence.

The second was a rather humongous vehicle, a tanker of some sorts, with about 16 wheels, which was carrying some hazardous liquid - all 36,000 litres of it. It had the word ‘DANGER’ printed in large red letters on both sides. I would like to believe I am quite a prudent & cautious driver, but the guy of the vehicle in question, was either a novice or else, like me at times - had a poor sense of direction! (I now use Google maps)

Whenever I see such vehicles, my senses go on high alert and I have, in the past, imagined the worst, when passing them.

However, that’s another story, so let me set the scene for you here.

We were both driving parallel to each other at a steady 80 kmph on a lovely wide road. He was on my right. Suddenly, he veered towards me, as he saw an exit to my left and obviously wanted to use the approaching flyover. Indicators on, he bulldozed his way across my path, almost sideswiping me in the bargain. I cursed under my breath and let it pass. Fifteen seconds later, he was back in front of me as he had changed his mind and about a hundred meters down the road, he finally exited to the right. If that was not dangerous driving what is.

Then came the mother of all drivers, literally and figuratively speaking.

I had probably slowed down a bit, when suddenly, out of nowhere, I spotted a lady in a small white car – probably a ‘Tida’- flashing me furiously from behind. To get my attention she even sounded her horn a few times. I was in the fast lane and the road we were on was quite empty as it was afternoon, so I pulled to my right to let her pass by. However, as she came up on my left side she slowed down, lowered her window glass, and gestured me to do so. I followed instructions, all the time wondering what the matter was. She then waved & simultaneously shouted out a question- “which way to Global village”?

If I had my way, if it were possible, and if I knew how, I would have got out and punctured her tires – yes, all four of them. Couldn’t she follow road signs?

My gentlemanly instincts soon got the better of me & I immediately remembered how I had got horribly lost when going to the global village last year and a couple of times before as well, so I smiled and asked her to follow me. She did so for about three km and I then signalled to her to branch off to the right, as I carried on.

On hindsight now , I have learnt just one way to get to the Global village and we were nowhere near that road so I probably sent her off in the wrong direction .

United in sympathies

 UNITED IN SYMPATHIES

 Decades from now the world will remember this unrelenting pandemic 

Moreover, wonder how we made it through . The year the Grim Reaper decided to make a stop over 

 Wielding a sharpened scythe and harvesting at will

 Family gatherings will suddenly turn nostalgic ‘Covid’, will be discussed, and 2020 revisited – painfully 

Those poor wretched brave souls whose toil was in vain 

 Many of who would have passed on

 A single candle will be lit 

and fervent prayers recited 

 The melodious chants of well-loved hymns 

will echo in the wind 

 On a cold, dark, wintery night 

 There will be stories and tears 

and families will reminisce 

On the good old days which were suddenly turned upside down

 Lockdowns, masks, social distancing and contact tracing

 Symptomatic, Asymptomatic, containment and herd immunity 

Incubation, screening, super spreader& ventilator .

May just be words by then – mere words

 But what of now 

 These, are words we shudder to repeat 

 As they force us to conjure images 

Of harrowing disease, agonizing suffering Unbearable pain and excruciating death 

 Of loved ones, of friends, colleagues and others Who continue to depart this world

 And fade into oblivion with grim regularity. 

 We reach out- console their grieving families And extend a helping hand 

 Then life goes on as before 

 Yes – we question our own mortality 

 While pondering on matters, 

better left unsaid 

 Today, we are united by sympathies 

 Therefore, what still divides us?

United in sympathies

 UNITED IN SYMPATHIES

 Decades from now the world will remember this unrelenting pandemic 

Moreover, wonder how we made it through . The year the Grim Reaper decided to make a stop over 

 Wielding a sharpened scythe and harvesting at will

 Family gatherings will suddenly turn nostalgic ‘Covid’, will be discussed, and 2020 revisited – painfully 

Those poor wretched brave souls whose toil was in vain 

 Many of who would have passed on

 A single candle will be lit 

and fervent prayers recited 

 The melodious chants of well-loved hymns 

will echo in the wind 

 On a cold, dark, wintery night 

 There will be stories and tears 

and families will reminisce 

On the good old days which were suddenly turned upside down

 Lockdowns, masks, social distancing and contact tracing

 Symptomatic, Asymptomatic, containment and herd immunity 

Incubation, screening, super spreader& ventilator .

May just be words by then – mere words

 But what of now 

 These, are words we shudder to repeat 

 As they force us to conjure images 

Of harrowing disease, agonizing suffering Unbearable pain and excruciating death 

 Of loved ones, of friends, colleagues and others Who continue to depart this world

 And fade into oblivion with grim regularity. 

 We reach out- console their grieving families And extend a helping hand 

 Then life goes on as before 

 Yes – we question our own mortality 

 While pondering on matters, 

better left unsaid 

 Today, we are united by sympathies 

 Therefore, what still divides us?

You

 You

The untamed rivers are running their course.

And emptying themselves into the expansive, tempestuous seas

Only to refill and repeat the process afresh.

Day after day and night after night.

Yes – day after day and night after night.

The great horned owl hoots.

And the deadliest jaws hunt

And the weak are chased down and devoured mercilessly

It’s the circle of life.

Day after day and night after night

The scorching sun rises in the east, and sets in the west.

And the sequin – silver stars appear in the night- time sky.

And we gaze up and stare with wonder

At Polaris, Sirius, Antares and Rigel

Without even blinking our eyes

And everything is so foreseeable & predictable.

In this amazing universe

And then there’s you.

You

 You

The untamed rivers are running their course.

And emptying themselves into the expansive, tempestuous seas

Only to refill and repeat the process afresh.

Day after day and night after night.

Yes – day after day and night after night.

The great horned owl hoots.

And the deadliest jaws hunt

And the weak are chased down and devoured mercilessly

It’s the circle of life.

Day after day and night after night

The scorching sun rises in the east, and sets in the west.

And the sequin – silver stars appear in the night- time sky.

And we gaze up and stare with wonder

At Polaris, Sirius, Antares and Rigel

Without even blinking our eyes

And everything is so foreseeable & predictable.

In this amazing universe

And then there’s you.

Wake up and smell the roses

 WAKE UP AND SMELL THE ROSES

(A 4.45 am weekend thought )

Have you ever wondered why people behave the way they do?

Punching below their weight- intentionally!

being critical and confrontational,

While attempting to validate alleged grievances .

Are they just captious perfectionists?

Entangled in mystifying arguments with themselves?

Or nebby, boisterous, busybodies- acting on a whim?

Taking it upon themselves

to sweep the Augean stables clean.

Why do otherwise principled, right thinking, intelligent humans, behave irrationally?

Totally out of sync with their habitual, ethical selves

and think nothing of it.

Topic for a dissertation maybe?

Is it trepidation, apprehension, anxiety, over thinking?

Is it a, ‘yeah I am awesome syndrome’?

Or could it be an inflated ego, and over estimation of self-worth?

Is it one of these or an amalgamation of the above?

One minute all is quiet on the western front.

Music, peace, friends, laughter, tranquility-

and then without warning,

or so much as a, ‘by your leave’,

Or a, ‘may I please’

Pandemonium ensues and the world knows it .

Off they go on an irrevocable tangent.

Cursing the rainbow and cuddling serpents!

Spiralling out of control – frenzied, raving, and ranting

Refusing to listen to reason, logic, or even common sense.

They become unpredictable, unresponsive, ludicrous & irrational

Lashing out

And often throw the baby out with the bathwater.

Is it letting feelings override facts?

Is it decision paralysis?

Is it perception based on biases?

Or are they just befuddled, bewildered and punch- drunk?

Zoned out Angels can start to grow horns- can’t they?

Wake up and smell the roses!

Or the coffee if you will!

Life is all about choices.

About fulfilling purposes and accomplishing goals

Its an aspect of existence

Wake up and smell the roses

 WAKE UP AND SMELL THE ROSES

(A 4.45 am weekend thought )

Have you ever wondered why people behave the way they do?

Punching below their weight- intentionally!

being critical and confrontational,

While attempting to validate alleged grievances .

Are they just captious perfectionists?

Entangled in mystifying arguments with themselves?

Or nebby, boisterous, busybodies- acting on a whim?

Taking it upon themselves

to sweep the Augean stables clean.

Why do otherwise principled, right thinking, intelligent humans, behave irrationally?

Totally out of sync with their habitual, ethical selves

and think nothing of it.

Topic for a dissertation maybe?

Is it trepidation, apprehension, anxiety, over thinking?

Is it a, ‘yeah I am awesome syndrome’?

Or could it be an inflated ego, and over estimation of self-worth?

Is it one of these or an amalgamation of the above?

One minute all is quiet on the western front.

Music, peace, friends, laughter, tranquility-

and then without warning,

or so much as a, ‘by your leave’,

Or a, ‘may I please’

Pandemonium ensues and the world knows it .

Off they go on an irrevocable tangent.

Cursing the rainbow and cuddling serpents!

Spiralling out of control – frenzied, raving, and ranting

Refusing to listen to reason, logic, or even common sense.

They become unpredictable, unresponsive, ludicrous & irrational

Lashing out

And often throw the baby out with the bathwater.

Is it letting feelings override facts?

Is it decision paralysis?

Is it perception based on biases?

Or are they just befuddled, bewildered and punch- drunk?

Zoned out Angels can start to grow horns- can’t they?

Wake up and smell the roses!

Or the coffee if you will!

Life is all about choices.

About fulfilling purposes and accomplishing goals

Its an aspect of existence

Workshops and me

 I am someone who does not like ‘Workshops ’. Let me elucidate – Workshops per se would be okay, if the process itself was revamped. Now, this is a very broad and general statement and has no reflection whatsoever on the company I work for, where the culture is exceedingly progressive & very different from the run of the mill. Not enjoying workshops may sound odd or strange, considering I am in the ‘education field’, and have been so for 40 years, but hear me out before you pass judgement. A great Workshop or Professional Development event is to supposed to refine skills, be simple, be fun, energize one, be an invigorating learning experience, and above all, motivate, and inspire the attendee to do better and think differently. However, for many employees, the world over, it is usually the opposite. More often than not, they come out feeling bored, disillusioned and even disgusted. The reason –a large number of PD’s that people attend are repetitive, passive, jargon heavy, tiresome, too simplistic, or just downright monotonous. It is often the case of ‘old wine in a new bottle’ and if I may add- not exactly, very palatable wine either! Now you may say that it is not workshops, which are a bad thing, but the resource persons who conduct them – for me it is the complete package. Here is a question, along with some advice to Educationists and others who may read this, as it pertains to all segments of the workforce. Why is so much of the professional development that people attend, such a waste of energy and resources? The number of person-hours that probably go down the drain in companies and institutions is such a criminal waste of time. I have, over the years, had this discussion with innumerable friends and colleagues, and almost all have had similar views. According to a recent survey, ‘the majority of PD is provided in a workshop model, and workshop models are inherently ineffective. This has been a perennial debate and the jury is still out on this one. It amounts to giving everyone the same information, regardless of their prior knowledge, skills, experience, and leaving it up to them to determine how, or if, it is implemented at all. The follow up is zilch. People have obviously heard of the word Differentiation. In 1999, the American educator, author and speaker, Carol Ann Tomlinson, wrote about the “Differentiated classroom- responding to the need of all learners” Over the years, we have seen how Differentiation continues to play an effective & substantial role in how pupils are taught, and it has proved a boom, to tens of thousands of pupils, especially those with a special educational need. Now what about adults in a PD classroom? If it has worked for children, then why won’t it work for adults? They could be bankers, teachers, marketing professionals or accountants – it does not matter and mark you, this is not rocket science. We would certainly not teach our students this way. In addition, if we do not expect our students to come to class at the same level and learn in the exact same way- so why do we expect it from others? It is about time managers and leaders started thinking differently. Prior to conducting a workshop or a PD session , it would be wise to take a survey of your staff to see what they know about a professional development topic, and how skilled they consider themselves in that area. I am an educationist, and hence I know that schools already have a sense of this, from knowing the teachers well and being in their classrooms regularly, but it is about time that all administrators, in diverse companies, realize, that getting prior reflective feedback from the intended participants is critical to the success of the PD as well. Educational institutions can do better too. This information will also then allow leaders to tailor this professional development session to meet the needs of the individual, designing smaller group sessions with flexible groupings to instruct them at their varying levels of readiness and need. Thus, the more experienced ones can get together to problem solve difficulties they might be having, or compare solutions while simultaneously sharing strategies and best practices. This way, participants of all readiness levels are meaningfully engaged, and the ensuing workshop becomes an enjoyable learning experience-, which was obviously the intention in the first place. When you work on the interest or need of the participants, they are more likely to be deeply engaged, making the work more productive -- just like with students in a school. In the classroom, we often have stronger students help their peers. Allow the workshop participants that have particular skill sets or experience, to run smaller group sessions. It provides leadership opportunities and develops a sense of ownership over the institutional improvement process. It is also worth considering that fact, that sometimes adults are more open to listening to someone in a similar position to himself or herself, than they are in taking directives from a senior administrator. I had the wonderful opportunity, while in my present company, to attend a Leadership course at The Tuck School of Business – part of the Graduate business school of Dartmouth College, an Ivy League research university in Hanover, New Hampshire. To say that I returned with a fresh perspective, not only on education, but also on life itself would be putting it mildly. The sessions were interactive, simplistic, thought provoking and fun, and it was time well spent. I feel if we truly practice what we preach where differentiation is concerned it will surely add value. If professional development is about growth and improvement then leaders must first strive to improve the process itself.

Workshops and me

 I am someone who does not like ‘Workshops ’. Let me elucidate – Workshops per se would be okay, if the process itself was revamped. Now, this is a very broad and general statement and has no reflection whatsoever on the company I work for, where the culture is exceedingly progressive & very different from the run of the mill. Not enjoying workshops may sound odd or strange, considering I am in the ‘education field’, and have been so for 40 years, but hear me out before you pass judgement. A great Workshop or Professional Development event is to supposed to refine skills, be simple, be fun, energize one, be an invigorating learning experience, and above all, motivate, and inspire the attendee to do better and think differently. However, for many employees, the world over, it is usually the opposite. More often than not, they come out feeling bored, disillusioned and even disgusted. The reason –a large number of PD’s that people attend are repetitive, passive, jargon heavy, tiresome, too simplistic, or just downright monotonous. It is often the case of ‘old wine in a new bottle’ and if I may add- not exactly, very palatable wine either! Now you may say that it is not workshops, which are a bad thing, but the resource persons who conduct them – for me it is the complete package. Here is a question, along with some advice to Educationists and others who may read this, as it pertains to all segments of the workforce. Why is so much of the professional development that people attend, such a waste of energy and resources? The number of person-hours that probably go down the drain in companies and institutions is such a criminal waste of time. I have, over the years, had this discussion with innumerable friends and colleagues, and almost all have had similar views. According to a recent survey, ‘the majority of PD is provided in a workshop model, and workshop models are inherently ineffective. This has been a perennial debate and the jury is still out on this one. It amounts to giving everyone the same information, regardless of their prior knowledge, skills, experience, and leaving it up to them to determine how, or if, it is implemented at all. The follow up is zilch. People have obviously heard of the word Differentiation. In 1999, the American educator, author and speaker, Carol Ann Tomlinson, wrote about the “Differentiated classroom- responding to the need of all learners” Over the years, we have seen how Differentiation continues to play an effective & substantial role in how pupils are taught, and it has proved a boom, to tens of thousands of pupils, especially those with a special educational need. Now what about adults in a PD classroom? If it has worked for children, then why won’t it work for adults? They could be bankers, teachers, marketing professionals or accountants – it does not matter and mark you, this is not rocket science. We would certainly not teach our students this way. In addition, if we do not expect our students to come to class at the same level and learn in the exact same way- so why do we expect it from others? It is about time managers and leaders started thinking differently. Prior to conducting a workshop or a PD session , it would be wise to take a survey of your staff to see what they know about a professional development topic, and how skilled they consider themselves in that area. I am an educationist, and hence I know that schools already have a sense of this, from knowing the teachers well and being in their classrooms regularly, but it is about time that all administrators, in diverse companies, realize, that getting prior reflective feedback from the intended participants is critical to the success of the PD as well. Educational institutions can do better too. This information will also then allow leaders to tailor this professional development session to meet the needs of the individual, designing smaller group sessions with flexible groupings to instruct them at their varying levels of readiness and need. Thus, the more experienced ones can get together to problem solve difficulties they might be having, or compare solutions while simultaneously sharing strategies and best practices. This way, participants of all readiness levels are meaningfully engaged, and the ensuing workshop becomes an enjoyable learning experience-, which was obviously the intention in the first place. When you work on the interest or need of the participants, they are more likely to be deeply engaged, making the work more productive -- just like with students in a school. In the classroom, we often have stronger students help their peers. Allow the workshop participants that have particular skill sets or experience, to run smaller group sessions. It provides leadership opportunities and develops a sense of ownership over the institutional improvement process. It is also worth considering that fact, that sometimes adults are more open to listening to someone in a similar position to himself or herself, than they are in taking directives from a senior administrator. I had the wonderful opportunity, while in my present company, to attend a Leadership course at The Tuck School of Business – part of the Graduate business school of Dartmouth College, an Ivy League research university in Hanover, New Hampshire. To say that I returned with a fresh perspective, not only on education, but also on life itself would be putting it mildly. The sessions were interactive, simplistic, thought provoking and fun, and it was time well spent. I feel if we truly practice what we preach where differentiation is concerned it will surely add value. If professional development is about growth and improvement then leaders must first strive to improve the process itself.

A night spent elsewhere

 Disadvantages of suddenly having to spend the night in someone else's house.

1. You wake up confused as to where you are .

2. You feel disoriented. 

3. You can never find the light switches.

4. The air-conditioning was freezing

5. There is urgent need for an additional blanket but you can't wake them up at 2 am can you ?

6. You are not sure if the door leads to the toilet or their bedroom

7. A strange cat jumps on your bed at 5 am and makes strange gurgling sounds -  you are not sure whether to pet it, back off or get under the covers and play dead.

8. You need a pair of slippers as the floor is freezing but you can't find them 

9. Being a morning person you go downstairs to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. 

10. There are umpteen cupboards so the search begins for the tea leaves and sugar. You finally find it in the last cupboard you open. It's not the tea you are used to, so you have to just make do. 

11. The gas stove is not like the one at home, so causing an explosion is a distinct possibility 

12. Then you wonder where the saucepan to boil the water is and when you find the draw with the vessels, one is not sure as to which one to use.

13. Tea in hand it's now a search for the front door key to pick up the morning newspapers.

14. By now the cat is wondering as to who you are, but is a trifle friendly, so it keeps brushing against you and almost tripping you up at every step. Breaking a bone is not my idea of a lovely morning so being extra careful is key to survival 

15. There are a few bunches of keys. Murphy's law steps in and the 26th key finally gets the front  door open. 

16. There are  no newspapers  but instead you are staring at a very  large grey Tom  cat. 

17. The house cat rushes out and there is snarling match which wakes the neighbours. 

18. They open their balcony window and look down at the cats and me with unadulterated disgust written all over their faces. I step back into the house feeling rather sheepish 

19. Meanwhile the others in the house wake up one by one and come down to check out the commotion . Their comments are unflattering and do nothing to soothe my jarred nerves.

20. The 2 cats have chased each other up and down the street and a third has joined them . They seem to be having a jolly good time. 

21. My tea is cold by now and I am disgusted. 

22. Everyone goes back to bed while muttering about why I got up so early. 

23. I try to tell them I am a morning person 

24. I need to make myself another cup of tea.

25 . The cat is back home  and now he is snuggling up to me as I key this in .

26. I guess I am a cat person too.

A night spent elsewhere

 Disadvantages of suddenly having to spend the night in someone else's house.

1. You wake up confused as to where you are .

2. You feel disoriented. 

3. You can never find the light switches.

4. The air-conditioning was freezing

5. There is urgent need for an additional blanket but you can't wake them up at 2 am can you ?

6. You are not sure if the door leads to the toilet or their bedroom

7. A strange cat jumps on your bed at 5 am and makes strange gurgling sounds -  you are not sure whether to pet it, back off or get under the covers and play dead.

8. You need a pair of slippers as the floor is freezing but you can't find them 

9. Being a morning person you go downstairs to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. 

10. There are umpteen cupboards so the search begins for the tea leaves and sugar. You finally find it in the last cupboard you open. It's not the tea you are used to, so you have to just make do. 

11. The gas stove is not like the one at home, so causing an explosion is a distinct possibility 

12. Then you wonder where the saucepan to boil the water is and when you find the draw with the vessels, one is not sure as to which one to use.

13. Tea in hand it's now a search for the front door key to pick up the morning newspapers.

14. By now the cat is wondering as to who you are, but is a trifle friendly, so it keeps brushing against you and almost tripping you up at every step. Breaking a bone is not my idea of a lovely morning so being extra careful is key to survival 

15. There are a few bunches of keys. Murphy's law steps in and the 26th key finally gets the front  door open. 

16. There are  no newspapers  but instead you are staring at a very  large grey Tom  cat. 

17. The house cat rushes out and there is snarling match which wakes the neighbours. 

18. They open their balcony window and look down at the cats and me with unadulterated disgust written all over their faces. I step back into the house feeling rather sheepish 

19. Meanwhile the others in the house wake up one by one and come down to check out the commotion . Their comments are unflattering and do nothing to soothe my jarred nerves.

20. The 2 cats have chased each other up and down the street and a third has joined them . They seem to be having a jolly good time. 

21. My tea is cold by now and I am disgusted. 

22. Everyone goes back to bed while muttering about why I got up so early. 

23. I try to tell them I am a morning person 

24. I need to make myself another cup of tea.

25 . The cat is back home  and now he is snuggling up to me as I key this in .

26. I guess I am a cat person too.

Do we suffer from amnesia?

 

What an extremely short memory span we human beings have.

Something happens somewhere or the other that provokes public interest and there is a hue and cry. Without even being invited, thousands jump on the bandwagon. Social media goes berserk. Television news anchors have a field day and TRP ratings soar. The newspapers give the item top billing and tensions overflow. The topic is everywhere, and the citizens are awestruck.

How, why, and where did it happen? Who witnessed it? Could it have been prevented? How do we know it will not happen again? Innumerable questions, plenty of rumours and no concrete answers are usually how these scenarios play out.

Suddenly, any and everybody becomes an authority on the matter and there are comments, quotes, data, suggestions, solutions and what have you.

And then – something new and sensational takes place, and the old case is either forgotten, or conveniently put on the back burner.

There are probably hundreds of such incidents, but I will refer to just a few which I can recollect immediately- in no particular order.

The first case that comes to mind is the Noida double murder and by this I refer to the unsolved murders of 13-year-old girl and a 45-year-old,  male, live-in domestic worker, employed by her family. What happened and why - who murdered them? It was a bizarre story with gory details.  If I recall rightly, the parents of the girl became suspects and were behind bars for some time – then they were released as no case could be proved against them. The case started with a bang and ended with a whimper.

Suddenly there was silence - What thereafter?

What of the well-known Bollywood actor  who apparently committed suicide? Even before his last rites could be performed, the case was the talk of the country. The actor’s name was sullied in the bargain and so many family members, friends and colleagues and well-wishers were dragged into the limelight – many probably for no fault at all. There were claims and counter claims, witnesses for and against various people, and the case went off on innumerable tangents. The net was spread far and wide and everyone waited with bated breath for the conclusion.  It was such a sensational matter, and the country was divided. Was it suicide or murder? What a commotion and what insane drama ensued.

 Then suddenly there was silence – What thereafter?

Do you remember this? It was 12:42 a.m. on the quiet, moonlit night of March 8, 2014, a Boeing 777 operated by Malaysia Airlines took off from Kuala Lumpur and turned toward Beijing, climbing to its assigned cruising altitude of 35,000 feet. The flight number was 370. Then without warning, the plane went missing. The newspapers could not get enough and there were all sorts of theories. Experts say they have located the  MH370 crash site and are investigation . However, the remains of the  239 passengers and crew on board were never found and are presumed dead. However, no one is sure.

After all the high drama, suddenly there was silence – what thereafter?

Then there are the multitude of rapes in India. Young women, old grandmothers, newlywed brides, school going girls and even babies are assaulted, raped and often brutally murdered.

 The cases hit the headlines, and everyone is filled with an immense amount of indignation. Anger boils over, morchas are taken out, politicians visit the family, other political parties are blamed, speeches are made & compensation is offered.

 Meanwhile elsewhere, there are riots,  vehicles are burnt, roads are blocked, shop windows are smashed, and police stations are torched. Promises are made by all and sundry that they will catch and convict the killers. Then, suddenly, completely out of the blue, we hear of arrests of some of the rapists while others are yet to be traced – this is the common language always used. We are not even sure if the ones who are caught are the actual culprits, or just scapegoats who will remain in jail till the heat is off. You never hear of those who got away as they vanish without a trace. At times the accused is a high-profile person, and we are told that justice will prevail – come what may.

People then demand the death penalty while the case drags on for months and at times years. Key witnesses die of old age, meet with strange accidents, commit suicide, are done away with, bought off and sometimes withdraw the cases. Whether it is the intervention or pressure by people in high places the cases then just fizzle out. Gradually interest wanes & no one knows or cares as to what happens in the end.

I may have referred to India but this is something which happens all over the world without exception .  

Everyone seemingly gets amnesia till the next human interest case surfaces .We human beings thrive on sensationalism &  love to start, afresh don’t we?

Do we suffer from amnesia?

 

What an extremely short memory span we human beings have.

Something happens somewhere or the other that provokes public interest and there is a hue and cry. Without even being invited, thousands jump on the bandwagon. Social media goes berserk. Television news anchors have a field day and TRP ratings soar. The newspapers give the item top billing and tensions overflow. The topic is everywhere, and the citizens are awestruck.

How, why, and where did it happen? Who witnessed it? Could it have been prevented? How do we know it will not happen again? Innumerable questions, plenty of rumours and no concrete answers are usually how these scenarios play out.

Suddenly, any and everybody becomes an authority on the matter and there are comments, quotes, data, suggestions, solutions and what have you.

And then – something new and sensational takes place, and the old case is either forgotten, or conveniently put on the back burner.

There are probably hundreds of such incidents, but I will refer to just a few which I can recollect immediately- in no particular order.

The first case that comes to mind is the Noida double murder and by this I refer to the unsolved murders of 13-year-old girl and a 45-year-old,  male, live-in domestic worker, employed by her family. What happened and why - who murdered them? It was a bizarre story with gory details.  If I recall rightly, the parents of the girl became suspects and were behind bars for some time – then they were released as no case could be proved against them. The case started with a bang and ended with a whimper.

Suddenly there was silence - What thereafter?

What of the well-known Bollywood actor  who apparently committed suicide? Even before his last rites could be performed, the case was the talk of the country. The actor’s name was sullied in the bargain and so many family members, friends and colleagues and well-wishers were dragged into the limelight – many probably for no fault at all. There were claims and counter claims, witnesses for and against various people, and the case went off on innumerable tangents. The net was spread far and wide and everyone waited with bated breath for the conclusion.  It was such a sensational matter, and the country was divided. Was it suicide or murder? What a commotion and what insane drama ensued.

 Then suddenly there was silence – What thereafter?

Do you remember this? It was 12:42 a.m. on the quiet, moonlit night of March 8, 2014, a Boeing 777 operated by Malaysia Airlines took off from Kuala Lumpur and turned toward Beijing, climbing to its assigned cruising altitude of 35,000 feet. The flight number was 370. Then without warning, the plane went missing. The newspapers could not get enough and there were all sorts of theories. Experts say they have located the  MH370 crash site and are investigation . However, the remains of the  239 passengers and crew on board were never found and are presumed dead. However, no one is sure.

After all the high drama, suddenly there was silence – what thereafter?

Then there are the multitude of rapes in India. Young women, old grandmothers, newlywed brides, school going girls and even babies are assaulted, raped and often brutally murdered.

 The cases hit the headlines, and everyone is filled with an immense amount of indignation. Anger boils over, morchas are taken out, politicians visit the family, other political parties are blamed, speeches are made & compensation is offered.

 Meanwhile elsewhere, there are riots,  vehicles are burnt, roads are blocked, shop windows are smashed, and police stations are torched. Promises are made by all and sundry that they will catch and convict the killers. Then, suddenly, completely out of the blue, we hear of arrests of some of the rapists while others are yet to be traced – this is the common language always used. We are not even sure if the ones who are caught are the actual culprits, or just scapegoats who will remain in jail till the heat is off. You never hear of those who got away as they vanish without a trace. At times the accused is a high-profile person, and we are told that justice will prevail – come what may.

People then demand the death penalty while the case drags on for months and at times years. Key witnesses die of old age, meet with strange accidents, commit suicide, are done away with, bought off and sometimes withdraw the cases. Whether it is the intervention or pressure by people in high places the cases then just fizzle out. Gradually interest wanes & no one knows or cares as to what happens in the end.

I may have referred to India but this is something which happens all over the world without exception .  

Everyone seemingly gets amnesia till the next human interest case surfaces .We human beings thrive on sensationalism &  love to start, afresh don’t we?

Patience is a virtue

 A pensive mood 

A vintage Port

 The lamps aglow

 Sam 'lightnin' Hopkins for company. 

 Asking for more? 

No. 

 Desiring a change ?

 No. 

Could be better 

Yes! 

But certainly not bad ! 

 The lazy boy 

 Cushions tucked in

 Legs stretched out

 Comfortable 

 A cat purring at my feet 

Begging for love?

 Probably not.

 She is a mean kitty 

And as elusive as they come! 

 And then Suddenly - a phone call

 Out of the blue 

 And It all changes. 

 The mood, the music, the wine too.

 And what an unexpected change 

 In seconds 

 I am glad. 

Euphoria?

 No . 

Happy ?

 Oh yes 

 Life . 

Yes that's life. 

 Patience is a virtue

 And it pays .

 Dinner beckons.

Patience is a virtue

 A pensive mood 

A vintage Port

 The lamps aglow

 Sam 'lightnin' Hopkins for company. 

 Asking for more? 

No. 

 Desiring a change ?

 No. 

Could be better 

Yes! 

But certainly not bad ! 

 The lazy boy 

 Cushions tucked in

 Legs stretched out

 Comfortable 

 A cat purring at my feet 

Begging for love?

 Probably not.

 She is a mean kitty 

And as elusive as they come! 

 And then Suddenly - a phone call

 Out of the blue 

 And It all changes. 

 The mood, the music, the wine too.

 And what an unexpected change 

 In seconds 

 I am glad. 

Euphoria?

 No . 

Happy ?

 Oh yes 

 Life . 

Yes that's life. 

 Patience is a virtue

 And it pays .

 Dinner beckons.