Call for Empathy in Schools

Call for Empathy in Schools

Ms. Moqheeta Mehboob

I did my schooling from a central school, Kendriya Vidyalaya — a school with a very high reputation. Decades have passed, but I still remember a particular incident. I must have been no more than five or six years old. I remember a sunny morning, the assembly, the stage, the teachers — and the shame. I don’t remember the reason or the lesson taught that day, but I distinctly remember the stares of more than a thousand students and around a hundred teachers. A few of us were made to stand on the stage as a form of punishment.

I also remember, somewhere around the same age, walking home from school in tears. I was burning with fever, but at that tender age, I couldn't make sense of what was happening and resorted to crying. A Yezdi bike slowed down beside me. A man — a staff member from my school — asked me what was wrong. I couldn’t explain. He offered me a lift, and I pointed him to my house. He dropped me at my gate and even peeped in to make sure I reached safely.

Two completely different incidents. But both involved the staff of my school.

Why do I still remember the embarrassment — but not the reason behind it?
And in the other case, why do I remember the person, the gesture, and his concerned glance into my home?

Compassion

The lack of it in one situation — and the presence of it in the other — left a deep imprint on me.

As educationist Wilson says, punishment that involves pain and humiliation builds resentment, encourages deception, and damages self-esteem.

Sadly, this is what we see more and more in schools and colleges today. Institutions meant to prepare students for life — with rich moral and ethical values — instead often inflict emotional wounds that last longer than any lesson taught.

A recent, heartbreaking incident is a case in point. A young college girl from Madras lost her life — not to illness or accident — but to institutional insensitivity.

"A first-year undergraduate student of Madras Christian College collapsed in the basketball court during a compulsory sports session and was declared dead shortly after. The session was part of a 120-hour requirement for physical education credits. Despite having anemia, the trainer — reportedly a fellow student — told her another round would 'cure her.' She collapsed of cardiac arrest, likely triggered by dehydration."

Who takes responsibility for this life lost? Can this loss ever be reversed?

Tragically, this is not an isolated case.

In response to this, Ms. Benny Pereira, a parent, shared another devastating story:

"My son’s classmate has been in a wheelchair for the past 35 years. As a child, he was physically fit. But as punishment in school, he was made to do a hundred sit-ups. Despite complaining of back pain midway, the teacher forced him to continue. He collapsed. Later, doctors confirmed that he had suffered permanent paralysis from the waist down."

Albert Einstein once said, "Education is not the learning of facts but the training of the mind to think." Are we really helping children think independently and creatively — or are we turning them into data-producing machines?

Schools and colleges carry the responsibility of shaping a better, more compassionate generation. But this mission cannot succeed unless the educators themselves live by the values they aim to impart.

A truly progressive school is one where empathy and trust are prioritized, where human emotions are not sacrificed at the altar of grades or timetables.

In earlier times, human values held high priority. The pace of learning may have been slower, but ethics and respect were deeply embedded. Today, material knowledge has taken precedence, and genuine human connection has been left behind.

This Madras incident is a loud, rude wake-up call to those in education. It is time to assess where our mechanical systems and blind race for results are leading us.

What Can Be Done?

Teachers' training is common in most schools, but studies show that traditional one-time workshops don’t bring lasting change in teachers’ attitudes. The effect fades.

We need better models.
How about teachers spending time observing other schools — high-end and low-end alike? Exposure to different teaching styles and challenges makes us more humble and aware of our blind spots. Cross-learning fosters perspective.

Empowering students must not be a fashionable term — it needs to be a reality. The tragedy is that many adults fear empowered youth. They resist power-sharing, often silencing students' opinions. Adults — parents, teachers, institutions — want it their way or no way.

The price of this rigidity was Mahima — a girl we lost too soon.

Let there be no more Mahimas. Let us not lose another child to neglect or ego.

As A.P.J. Abdul Kalam said, "Great teachers emanate from knowledge, passion, and compassion."
Let compassion reign.

We must shift the culture of our educational spaces. It’s time we correct ourselves before we talk of correcting others.

Let us trust our students — and teach them to trust us. They are our future. And we owe them a better one.