LiA Journal Entry 7

And just like that, it's over. 7 weeks in Chennai- driving hours to and from class, staying up late planning lessons, practicing my teacher voice till my throat was sore -gone by in a flash. I know it's a cliché to say this, but it really does feel like just yesterday I was driving down to Arunodhaya's office for the first time, meeting all my new colleagues, memorizing all the names of the students. One common theme has suffused my various reflections on this project- that being that I didn't really have any idea what I was getting into before I started. And I've already discussed the fact that this intimidating and unfamiliar territory led to a lot of self-doubt on my part, which required bravery, ambition, and determination to overcome. Well, looking back on it now, I have to ask myself: were my fears well-founded? Did I fail, or did I succeed? I'm proud to say the answer is the latter, and that answer comes from two different levels of reflection. The first level is purely pragmatic: I achieved the specific, quantifiable objectives I'd set out in advance. What were those goals, exactly? I had set out four main SMART goals: gameplanning comprehensive educational roadmaps in English and STEM; conducting regular classes at two locations on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays; ensuring all educational materials I create are properly archived and digitized to facilitate sharing them with Arunodhaya's executives; and volunteering for extracurricular engagements at locations like Arunodhaya's Resource Centres whenever recommended by my colleagues. And for the most part, I achieved these goals to exactly the degree that I'd hoped. The curriculum I designed was straightforward yet comprehensive; I covered enough material to reach genuinely impressive concepts by the end, without ever losing students along the way. That was all the more difficult a task, considering the constraining circumstances I encountered along the way: how my two classes occupied two very different age groups, for example, or how one of my classes ended a week early and I had to rush to condense multiple lessons into one introductory week for a whole new arriving class. In fact, those circumstances outside of my control represent the only aspects of my SMART goals I didn't ultimately accomplish. I had to abridge my STEM curriculum near the second-to-last week and focus more on the English; there were so many complications around the ongoing exam season (as discussed previously) that my colleagues decided it'd be better for me to shift my curriculum accordingly. It was a little jarring to shift gears so suddenly (and, as a lifelong lover of science, I felt disappointed not being able to finish the course), but this is what ethical engagement is about. There are some times when the onus is on me to make hard and fast decisions, to draw on my own analytical skills; there are other times when my job is to work with the guidance of others, to trust their specific expertise and lived experience. Striking that perfect balance between leading and following is much easier said than done. But at the end of the day, I can confidently say that I delivered on every objective goal I promised I'd fulfill for Arunodhaya, and I define that as a success.

But as important as it was to accomplish my pragmatic goals- and I certainly am proud that I did so -that is not the main reason that I would describe this project as a success. What matters even more to me is the emotional aspect of this whole process: the connections I've been building, the passion for learning I sought to cultivate within the hearts of my students. I admit that this was a lofty goal: "how much can I really reach these students," I'd often ask myself, "in just six or seven weeks?" And furthermore, this goal can't be quantified in the same ways as the pragmatic goals I just discussed. I can point to a Google Drive folder full of slideshows as concrete evidence of my educational curriculum's success; that'll show the concepts we covered, and the rough timeline we followed, and so on. But what concrete evidence can I really point out in order to show that I reached my students on an emotional level? Well, the pictures above and below are the answer to that question. Above, I am depicted holding an embroidered handkerchief along with some of the other volunteers at the Tiruvottiyur location. Alongside every one of our lessons was a series of other classes on useful skills, and one of those was a class on textile embroidery and clothing design. So after I concluded my final lesson, a group of people from that class got together to present me with a gift they had made, emblazoned with Arunodhaya's name and a series of colorful decorations. They told me that this gift was a symbol of how much I'd managed to connect with the students at Tiruvottiyur, and it moved me on a profound level to hear that. I was moved just as much (if not more so) by the parting gifts I received from the younger students at Korukkupet. As you can see below, they gave me various letters they'd written thanking me for teaching them, for being kind and patient and making them excited for every class. "We will miss you brother," they said, next to marker-colored pictures of rainbows and smiley faces. They made me read out every letter to the class right after our final lesson, just so everyone knew I saw what they said. And I'll admit it, I teared up a little while reading them. What an unbelievable gift it was to have this opportunity, to really make a difference in the lives of these students. The students told me in their letters that they'll never forget the lessons I taught them: lessons from a native English speaker, more personalized than any they'd ever had in school or with Arunodhaya. And my colleagues have told me that the curriculum I laid out would be perfect to help their students catch up with the English taught in Indian schools- and it would remain useful to them long after I leave Chennai. This is all exactly what I had hoped for. And I feel so humbled, and so honored, to have gotten this opportunity. I'm immensely grateful to the Laidlaw Foundation, to the Arunodhaya Centre, to all my colleagues, and advisors, and anyone else that's helped me along this roundabout path. I'm so grateful that things have gone the way they have, and I know that wouldn't have been possible without all of these people. Thank you, everyone, from the bottom of my heart.