Recent reports that Christ University has a higher cut-off for girl students applying to pre-university courses has enraged people across the country, but it has come as no surprise to me. The Vice-Chancellor of the institute has been quoted as saying “Girls are smart, and this is not a new trend. If there is no higher cut-off, the college will have only girls. The higher cut-off is to bring in gender balance.” I am not sure what is more ridiculous – that girls are being punished for being smart and capable or the fact that the Vice-Chancellor thinks he is in any way solving a gender balance problem.
Surely, the Vice-Chancellor of such an esteemed institute should be educated enough to understand the complexities of gender issues in a country like India, where girls are denied the right to an education simply because they are female?
Christ University’s sexism is not a new phenomenon, but it has been well-hidden by the institute’s reputation as a leading educational destination. As a former student, I have experienced first-hand what it is like to be at the receiving end of the management and staff’s double standards.
Why Are The University’s Rules So Oppressive?
When I joined Christ University almost 10 years ago as a postgraduate student, I was full of hope and excitement at the prospect of learning from some of the best minds in the country. What I didn’t know was that the university is steeped in sexist and regressive practices that often cloud its value as an excellent educational institution.
Not only was I subjected to humiliation at the hands of the HOD of the psychology department in 2010, but I was also ‘warned’ that my behaviour was inappropriate and not in line with the university’s ethical standards for students; all because I chose to challenge the status quo.
Let me explain a bit more. Throughout my two years at the institute, I was passionate about psychology and deeply invested in my studies, but I often struggled to fit into the institute’s authoritarian culture.
Some rules seemed to be designed to suppress student voices and ensure that the hierarchical structure of the institute remained intact. For example, class debates were often frowned upon, even though, most humanities student across the globe can agree that classroom debates on matters of social importance are a pillar of holistic education.
It almost seemed that the faculty feared students developing original ideas! Students who wrote exam papers that mirrored textbooks were given the highest grades and those who questioned or challenged existing theories were reprimanded for being too disruptive.
I realised how afraid the university really was of independent thinking when one of the most qualified professors in the department was unceremoniously fired because he fervently encouraged students to voice their opinions and often held debates during his classes.
As someone who wanted to walk away with a master’s degree and the ability to practise psychology, at first, I was willing to submit to the authoritarian and controlling regime. Even though I was appalled at the university’s rule of forcing students to pay money when their attendance was below the 85% cut-off, I complied. Students had to pay Rs. 1000 for every percentage point that was below the cut-off. I couldn’t protest the payment because the right to answer the term exams was contingent on paying the fine.
We had a female ‘counsellor’ who would meet with us when our attendance slipped below the 85% cut-off, only to inform us that the consequences would be dire. She instructed us not to miss any more classes, and sent us back into the corridors of the most suffocating institute I have ever been a part of.
As we stood in long lines, counting our money, wondering what we would have to sacrifice in our monthly budget to afford the fine, we never thought to question this rule.
Some might ask, shouldn’t you pay the price for missing classes? Sure, you should, but the truth is that the rules always favoured the university, so much so that you could be marked absent for the entire day if you were more than 5 minutes late for your first class. I won’t criticise the university for this, they were within their rights in imposing such restrictions, but extorting money from students? This was where I thought we should question the administration’s motives. And that is exactly what I did.
Over time, I learned to choose my battles and buried myself in the daily rigours of meeting deadlines, cramming for exams and preparing for group presentations. I was thrilled when I was among the highest scoring students in a subject that I had previously dreaded – cognitive psychology! Overall, I did my best to ensure I met the attendance requirements.
Should Educators Be Judging Students ‘Characters’?
Perhaps, my free-spiritedness didn’t go down well at the institute, because I soon discovered that the department had been building a case to malign my character. I had heard whispers from classmates that some of us were being scrutinised and students had been commissioned to report on each other if they believed someone was engaged in ‘indecent’ behaviour; which at that time, referred to smoking, going to pubs, or talking to male students from other departments!
I was guilty of all these ‘indecent’ acts so I did experience some amount of anxiety over these rumours, but I reassured myself that this was a common trend. This reassurance was quickly shattered when I was asked to attend a meeting that I am certain was designed to break my self-confidence and make me feel like an unworthy human being.
On an uneventful September afternoon, during a post-lunch lull, I was called into a meeting with the head of the psychology department, a female lecturer I had never spoken to before, and a senior person from the university’s administration. What transpired in this meeting makes me anxious to this day.
The administrator was the first to address me (although I had never met him before), and I was outrightly accused of being a student with no morals. I was also told that my parents had probably not raised me right, as a result of which, I did not realise that my behaviour was not appropriate for a girl (bear in mind, I was a 22 two-year-old woman undertaking a master’s in clinical psychology). The female lecturer whom I had never encountered before looked at me with absolute disgust as she pointed out that she knew I was not a decent person.
I was in shock as I turned to my HOD whom I had really respected up until that meeting. But rather than explain the purpose of the meeting or provide any kind of support, he went on to suggest that I often smell of smoke and that he didn’t feel that I was attending the university to attain a degree. Instead, he believed I was here to ‘have fun, party and smoke’. (I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at his remarks)
I tried to defend myself and asked them why I was being subjected to this ridiculous barrage of accusations, to which they said, “it’s not just you, it’s all the students who are found smoking during lunch breaks and spoiling the reputation of the college”. I honestly did not know how to respond. Eventually, I discovered that it wasn’t ALL students, but only select female students who were targeted.
As I silently listened to the humiliating accusations and hurtful references to my parents’ ineptitude, I was asked to ensure that one of my parents would meet with the HOD within the next few days if I wanted to continue studying at the college. When I told them that I lived in a single parent home and my mother had the responsibility of work and my 5 other siblings and thus would not be able to travel all the way to Bangalore, they looked at me with even more judgement. I think that divorced parentage was not looked upon with much respect at this Catholic organisation.
I tried to explain to them that I was 22, fully responsible for my own actions and that my mother did not need to be burdened by their baseless criticisms of me; but they insisted that if I wanted to remain enrolled in the university, she would have to meet with the HOD. I was rendered speechless, and at some point, I think I drowned out their voices.
After they dismissed me from the meeting, I walked away with a sinking feeling, realising that my academic achievements over the last year had meant very little to my professors, that they had only been making judgements on my ‘character’ the entire time which they had deemed unsuitable.
All of the girls that were targeted that day had two things in common – we were opinionated, and we did not hide while smoking during our lunch breaks outside the campus. When I realised that none of the male students were called for the meetings, even though many of them smoked, drank, bunked classes and had even scored poorly in exams, it became evident that we were chosen for the meeting/warning based on our genders.
I am still haunted by this incident, because, on some days, I still question whether it was, in fact, my own fault that I was treated so harshly. I ask myself – did I deserve it? Was I too opinionated? Should I have kept my head down and smoked in a corner where no one would see me?
But, the truth is, that regardless of who I was or how I behaved, the educators at Christ University, some of whom are practising clinical psychologists, had no business breaking down my character on the basis of unjust and regressive belief systems.
I went to college to learn, and over the course of my two years at Christ University, I learned one of the most important lessons of my life. I learned that in our society, women are judged more harshly than men, and often, our worthiness is not judged on the basis of our capabilities but on the basis of arbitrary benchmarks. While this is an uncomfortable truth, it is the reality in many cases. The new admissions cut-off at Christ University is yet another example of how our abilities are often a threat to the men who think they are the keepers of society.