Lessons Beyond the Blackboard: Stories of Rural Students

DATE: 18th June 2025

LOCATION: Bhararhi Vidyanikethan, Dhanwada, Narayanpet

The school was small, with limited ventilation and two main blocks — one for pre-primary and primary students, and another for high school students up to 10th grade. The first thing I noticed — and liked — was how lively the kids were. Being in a rural area, I expected a natural vibrancy, and it didn’t disappoint.

The infrastructure was neither too good nor too bad. I appreciated that the principal had installed solar panels, but to my surprise, when I stepped into the classroom, there was no electricity. It made me wonder if the solar setup was more of a display than a functioning resource. The classroom had around eleven students, filled with second-hand materials — both from homes and school reuse.

Most students were shy to speak on camera, so I switched to voice recording and written answers. The environment among the teachers and students was friendly — I could see genuine connection and kindness, and that created a positive vibe.

Talking to the students, I found many of them liked Maths and Telugu. One boy bluntly said, "I don't like any subject." Some struggled with motivation, possibly due to a lack of proper teaching. Over an hour of conversation revealed that most boys aspired to join the army, while girls aimed to become agricultural officers, teachers, or doctors. One student said he planned to stop studying after 12th. His classmates laughed — but I asked, "Is dropping out after 12th funny to you?"

Some students even paused school occasionally to help with fieldwork — and they weren’t ashamed of it. They said it with pride. That pride deserves respect. It shows the kind of responsibility they carry at such a young age.

They also mentioned something that struck me hard — how relatives treat them differently when someone from the city visits. There’s visible bias toward urban-educated kids. When I asked if any of their friends had dropped out, one student said yes — again, laughter followed. I reminded them, "There’s no relation between education and friendship. Laughter isn’t always helpful."

A bigger concern was how students believed their self-worth was tied to their 10th grade marks. I couldn’t help but ask: where did they learn this pressure? From parents? Or is society passing the burden onto the parents?

I asked if parents talk to them about how school went. They said yes — but in a surface-level way. No one asks, “How are you today?” or “How are you feeling?” That simple gap — emotional connection — makes them hesitant to open up. If they’re scared to share small things now, how will they express bigger issues later in life?

One girl mentioned how her father compares her marks to others: “Why did she get more than you?” I’ve been there too. We often forget that education was never meant to be a competition. Comparisons might seem like motivation, but they quietly plant jealousy and self-doubt. One student even said, "They compare to get us motivated." I just stood there, silent.

By the end of our talk, we had become friends. We laughed, shared naughty stories from school, and for once, the students weren’t being lectured. They were being heard. And when I left, I noticed a quiet joy on their faces — the joy of knowing someone actually cared to listen.

This wasn’t just an interaction. It was a reminder: before we fix education, we must first fix how we talk to students.

Here are the photos and students of Bharati Vidyaniketan School