“A is for aam”. The Indian Education System – a few stats (and why I’m here.)

As most of you already know, the entire purpose of my time in India has been to work as a Teaching Assistant as part of the newly-launched Generation UK-India programme, run by the British Council. Consequently, I’ve spent the majority of the last 2.5 months working in a fee-paying school in Greater Noida (there are many, and this area is well known for its numerous new colleges). Most of the teaching assistants on my programme have been placed in what in the UK we would refer to as ‘private’ schools (and confusingly, in the U.S, are called ‘public’ schools). However, many of the schools in India are at least partly government-funded.

The following statistics are taken from Indian School Education System, An Overview (Dec. 2014), a British Council publication, written by Arijit Ghosh and compiled by Sasha Sheppard. It can be accessed at: http://www.britishcouncil.in/sites/default/files/indian_school_education_system_-_an_overview_1.pdf

The Indian Education system is expanding at a massive rate. Perhaps the most significant piece of legislation in enforcing this has been the 2009 Right to Education Act (effective from April 2010) the Act granted the right to free and compulsory education to all children between the ages of six to fourteen, ‘in a neighbourhood [local] school’. [1]

Between 1999 and 2009, the average spending on education by both rural and urban families in India has quadrupled their expenditure on food. [2] Meanwhile, if we look at India as a whole, the Indian allocation of existing spending on education surpasses that of China, Russia and Brazil, though they are closely followed by Indonesia.[3]

India accounts for almost 18% of the world’s total population, with 1.23 billion people (behind only China’s 1.35 billion). It is also one of the ‘youngest’ countries in the world, with a median age of 27 years [4]. This provides both great scope for opportunity, but also an increasing crisis – what can be done with such a large population, if education is not provided to a decent standard, and so the Indian students of today are not ready for the job market of tomorrow? With population growth showing no sign of slowing, the race continues to educate India’s youth.

I fit into all of this in Greater Noida, which, although technically part of the National Capital Region (NCR) actually belongs to the state of Uttar Pradesh, not Delhi. Uttar Pradesh is India’s most populated state, accounting for 16% of the total Indian population [5]. Uttar Pradesh experienced one of the highest jumps in state literacy rates between 2001 and 2011, with an increase of around 15% [6]. Closely following were the states of Jammu and Kashmir, Bihar and Dadra and Nagar Haveli, which also saw a significant rise in literacy. A gender gap between male and female literacy rates remains, but this gap has declined considerably over the last decade, and is now below 20%. [7]

So where do I fit into this grand-scale?

Ok, so I don’t wake up every work-day morning and think of my role as some sort of educational mission (especially not with the colonial connotations of missionary) nor do I see myself as a symbol of knowledge in a place of ignorance (a.k.a, ‘white saviour complex’). Instead I just like to think that maybe some of the students I help know me as the funny little British lady who tries to make English lessons fun. I’m the ‘teacher ma’am’ not in a saree at school, who clutches her own water-bottle and cartoon animal pencil case tightly as she walks around school, looking slightly dazed.

Yet I am part of something bigger, and so is every slightly botched game of hangman, every failed attempt to teach ‘Old MacDonald had a farm’. I’m trying to show my students (the lucky few whose parents can afford to pay for their education from the age of three or four) something different and exciting, so that they engage with learning, enjoy their education, and want to share this privilege with others. It’s too much to ask that they’ll remember me specifically when they grow up (most of my students are only just five!) or that this experience will directly motivate them to enact change in their communities and society. But learning English will help a lot of my students reach university-level education in India at a good college, in about fifteen years, and there, these kind of ideas might be more accessible to them.

When I was having a bad day (and a pretty disastrous lesson) last week I was struck by a single sentence, uttered in Hindi and initially completely incomprehensible to me. A small boy who was normally called out for speaking in Hindi (not technically permitted in the school) and other bad behaviour, came up to me and asked me something. “Speak in English”, was my curt reply, but I turned to the class teacher to ask what he wanted. The student in question is the first in his family to attend school, and is from a local village. “He wants to know your name”, explained the class teacher. “He says that he wants to know your name so that he can tell his mother about you”.


[1] Indian School Education System, An Overview (2014) pg. 37. For more information see http://mhrd.gov.in/rte

[2] Ibid, pg. 32. Estimates from the National Sample Survey Office (NSSO) India.

[3] Ibid. Credit Suisse Emerging Market Consumer Survey (2011).

[4] Ibid, pg. 8.

[5] Ibid. See http://censusindia.gov.in/2011-prov-results/data_files/india/Final_PPT_2011_chapter3.pdf

[6] Ibid, pg. 9. Data from the Census of India 2011.

[7] Ibid. See http://populationcommission.nic.in/content/933_1_LiteracyRate.aspx


One thought on ““A is for aam”. The Indian Education System – a few stats (and why I’m here.)

  1. Thanks for all the info on India. It is a fascinating county. As they have compulsory education they seem to be doing the best for their population. It’s such a large country compared with the UK so it’s hard to imagine the various regions and dialects.

    I love the story about the little boy who wanted to know your name. I remember my first teacher when I was in kindergarten class (so under 5 years) at Sigdon Road School, Hackney. She was Chinese and her name was Miss Wong. I thought she was ancient – probably about 23!


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