Students are not being heard at school. This is the problem we choose to tackle in our two-week DFC project with the two Akanksha schools. It was not my first choice of issues to tackle; I was terrified by its complexity. The number of factors that can cause students to feel not heard and be unable to speak up in class is incredibly large as we have discovered on our first day in the field.
Read MoreAs soon as the gate was opened to let our three cars into the courtyard, we were already getting it. Some students who were playing volleyball in the play area slowed and started to glance over. Students in the classrooms were peering through the windows. Older students smiled, younger students were confused with some even shy.
Read MoreVandana led us up the bannerless wooden staircase to a room full of drying paintings, each one displaying a prominent motivational quote and lovely background picture. The open jawed stares of the Niswarth students and teachers quickly revealed our internal emotion.
Read MoreAfter a relaxing weekend in Pune filled with heavy and sleepy eyelids, splashes in the pool, and stomach paining laughs we were finally beginning our work with Akanksha schools.
Read MoreESI was so beautiful. I woke up everyday to the sound of chants and birds, “good morning”s and “how did you sleep”s, morning meditation and delicious breakfasts. Here at the Hyatt, I wake up to car horns and alarms, “are you going to the gym”s and “wake me up in 15 minutes”, buffet breakfasts and meetings in conference rooms.
Read MoreI sit on the cold floor, and inspect the circle of new faces around me. I reread their colorful name tags once again, repeating the pronunciation in my head. Their eyes look back at me, and we share a small smile, but we retreat back to blank expressions. I look back at the blackboard behind me, and look at the white writing, revealing our task at hand.
Read MoreDuring our stay at ESI, I would wake up to this quote every morning: “You can give without loving, but you can’t love without giving.” The quote stood over a little nook in the room I shared with Abigail. The bold, brown printed letters always remained for me to read, as it stood above the red cushions lining the wooden surface of the nook. I remember my heart responding immediately upon first sight.
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