I started my schooling in Dubai, and was there for a good 10 years. You’d think living in Dubai and completing my high school there would expose me to a lot of ‘progressive’ ideas (come on, it’s Dubai, after all!), but really, my experience couldn’t have been more different. The same Indian community that had moved there for a more ‘modern’ lifestyle, was, even in the heavily sanitised lanes of the most developed Emirate, as narrow as some of the streets they’d left behind.
At that age, I had neither knowledge nor the exposure needed to stand up to some of the very strange things that were taught to me, but looking back, I do see a lot that needs to be worked upon. For instance, I was always questioned over befriending boys or hanging out with them – the moral policing was stronger than I was back then, and I only took away from it that befriending members of the male gender was wrong.
At the same time, conversations with my family back home in India revealed that I didn’t really have it all that bad. As a girl, I counted myself lucky to be allowed – even encouraged – to participate in any sport of choice. The terrains of the sports field were never too rough for a dainty little girl, thankfully.
Cut to Grade 11, when I moved back to Chennai and joined one of the most prestigious residential schools in all of South India. The paradoxes that only caused mild discomfort back in the Emirates started to pinch, here.
Again, I was allowed to play sports, but strangely enough, the Principal categorically denied me the Sports Captain position – something I’d been hoping to get right from the age of 8 – because that post was reserved for Boys. Girls only got the Cultural Secretary post in the school… What?
Around the same time as I had decided I wanted to be Sports Captain, I decided the career path for me was to become a commercial pilot. Here’s another spot where the school failed me. Girls were supported in extracurriculars, yes, but ambitions aside from being a doctor, engineer or CA were not talked about at all. There was even a special class for coaching for NEET/IIT. But there was zilch in terms of guidance and research to support my intended venture into the aviation industry. In fact, as girls, we were encouraged to put aside our careers in favour of marriage and families. In a 21st century developing nation that’s conquered the moon and more!
Add to this the fact that right from the beginning, my family wasn’t exactly supportive of my ambition, due to the industry undergoing losses at that point. Valid, yes, but other questions like ‘What about the risk factor?’ and ‘Where’s the job security?’ were thrown my way too. To top it off, several friends and acquaintances chose this critical point in my life to throw snarky, baseless comments such as ‘But girls can’t fly!’
I caved to the pressure. Lack of institutional and personal, familial support forced me down the oft-beaten track of a degree in Political Science from the prestigious Delhi University. Not too bad a deal, but I had my own dreams, which deserved more than to be dismissed as the whims and fancies of a child.
It took four years of self-coaching, therapy and determination to flip the script. I eventually spent extensive hours working on research and practically presented the same to my family. I taught myself to be patient, to have that conversation multiple times, to persuade, rather than cry or throw a tantrum. Only now, after enough precious years of my life have been sacrificed to a field I didn’t belong to, have I managed to find my way to becoming a pilot – the coaching has begun and I hope to begin the course itself very soon.
Say I’d been taught right from the beginning to stand up for my beliefs, though. Say the school authorities had boosted my confidence with a well-deserved Sports Captain badge, and had made extra efforts to help me find my way to the career of my choice. I’m willing to bet a few grand that I’d have had this conversation, this realisation sooner. I’d have been able to work it out with less psychological strain and fewer bitter tears.
That’s something I believe all girls in this cruel world deserve. It’s the least one can do. Schools should be equipped with courses, resources and infrastructure to support a wide rainbow of career opportunities, moving past the myopic engineering-MBBS-CA model. Going the extra mile, getting counsellors in place to teach every girl the power of persuasion, determination and critical thinking to make decisions for herself and realise her worth is non-negotiable.
Especially for the girl born into this gender-biased society, I think it’s the first step to help stand up to oppression, and help them strive towards equality and aspirations as individuals in their own right.
Do you think formal Life Skills training in school can help empower young girls to take charge of their lives and find wellbeing and bright futures, like Neerja? Share your story, thoughts and solutions to integrate this training in schools, and we’ll take it to the Ministry of Human Resource Development! Write in with #SkillToLead and learn more about the campaign here!