Creative Classrooms

What is creativity? According to the dictionary in my computer, creativity is the ability to use the imagination to develop new and original ideas or things, especially in an artistic context. Ideally, any classroom in any academic institution should facilitate this no matter what subject is taught, no matter how many students attend, no matter what; there are no exceptions. To our dismay, this is not a utopian world. Indeed, there’s certainly a “gap between faculty and student expectations that leave the both parties unfulfilled” as mentioned in the essay “Creativity in the Classroom” by Ernest L. Boyer.

In the essay, Boyer claimed that “if faculty and students do not see themselves as having important business to do together, prospects for effective learning are diminished” (p 83). Most of my undergraduate days were spent in vain. Barring a few courses I took, I never felt the importance of sitting and paying attention to the class proceedings. Only the obligation to maintain at least 75% attendance and the prospect of losing an academic year if I failed to do so made me attend classes. Even in the classes I attended, I could hardly maintain focus. I used to sleep or chat with the student next to me. If the lecturer was strict, I used to sit silently and desperately hope for the bell to ring. Indeed every session turned out to be an uninspired routine since I distanced myself from the teacher.

Boyer effectively summed up the lecture method as it is in today’s classroom: “With few exceptions…the teacher stood in front of rows of chairs and talked most of the forty-five or fifty minutes. Information was presented that often students passively received. There was limited opportunity for positions to be clarified or ideas challenged” (p 86). In my undergraduate days, since every one of my classmates was registered for all the mandatory 28 credits in a semester, we used to have eight fifty-minute class sessions a day, six days a week. The instructors used to lecture for most of the time. Naturally, it was hard for the students to concentrate and maintain focus all day and all week. Only when the class had turned a bit noisy with all the student chatter, did the lecturer ask questions randomly to get the students’ attention back into the class. Most of the time, the lecturer would only assume that the students were following his/her lecture. Only some students were able to follow the class but no one ever cared about the students who fell behind. Those students who fell behind were left behind. The students who felt a bit confused with the concept being discussed hesitated to ask questions, fearing humiliation in front of the whole class. Some lecturers were only concerned with maintaining low decibel levels in the classroom. They ended the session satisfied if they had accomplished the task of maintaining low decibel levels. The success of a class session was not measured in the number of students understanding a particular concept, but was attributed to lower student decibel levels.

Whether students understand a concept or not, whether they have time to revise or even to study, they have to pass the test. This is, in fact, the primary reason why many students have recourse to cheating. Boyer stated that “the activities like cheating on assignments and buying term papers erode the quality of education,” (p 84) with which I strongly agree. I had a classmate who scored full marks on the midterm but failed the final exams since he cheated on the midterms, but had learned nothing during the entire semester. Even many of my lecturers, unable to control the situation, used to announce the questions for the upcoming test. They tried their best to help students pass the test. This kind of effort to reduce the gap only widens the gap and causes discredit to the instructors, ultimately leading to the dissatisfaction of both the students and the lecturers, and eroding the quality of education.

Undeniably, these examples are in tune with the observations of Boyer, which he termed “uninspiring and discouraging.” Boyer also found “exciting examples of outstanding teaching at many institutions” (p 87). To be honest, there were a few instances during my undergraduate days when I felt privileged to sit in a lecturer’s class. I had a professor in my junior year who taught us two courses. He used to mix the content in the textbook with his experience so elegantly and used to make us do experiments so passionately that at the end of semester I passed the courses without ever feeling the need to prepare for the exams.  He had command of the material to be taught. He never failed to answer any questions raised by the students. He maintained an enthusiastic environment for the entire semester and generated ideas from us. He guided our imagination to develop new and original ideas.

In a classroom, the professor is the person in charge. He or she should be equipped with all the necessary gear to make the entire session of the class fruitful. The essential qualities that make for successful teaching are stated in the closing paragraph of the essay, “Command of the material to be taught, a contagious enthusiasm for the play of ideas, optimism about human potential, the involvement with one’s students, and – not least – sensitivity, integrity, and warmth as a human being” (p 89). The professor should have the command of the material to be taught; only then can he or she effectively guide the students. Students, too, should gear up for the class, since all the creativity involves the imaginative ability of the students. Unarguably, a class is in session only because the students have registered for the course. A professor should give his or her hundred percent while the students should respond to the professor’s every call. A professor should prepare the students before the class, should thrive to make the entire session effective and should guide the students in doing the necessary follow-up to understand the concept and make them ready for the next class. It’s the responsibility of the students to be prepared for the class, to actively participate during the class and to do the necessary follow-up to understand the concepts discussed and to get ready for the next class.

Only when both the students and professor do their best, can a contagious enthusiasm be maintained in the classroom. Only when the students appear to be doing their best, can the professor get involved with one’s students. Only then can the gap between the professor and the students be reduced and can the impact of the teacher be powerful and enduring. 

Dodgy Drive

“Hello, mom?”

“Yeah, it’s me. How are you? Where are you? What’s up?”

“I’m getting ready…about to leave for the bus station”

“What’s the departure time?”

“Around 9 PM, not sure, I’ve to check the ticket.”

“Have a safe journey”

“Mom, what’s your say on climbing Mt. Everest? What do you think of swimming English Channel?”

“Well, if you want to do something that incredible, my best wishes are always with you”

“Thanks mom!”

Yes, I was planning to do something incredible at the least. I was about to endure fourteen hours of road trip in tough driving conditions on a borrowed bike.

I was living with my cousin in Hyderabad, India. We were literally inseparable. We went to the same college and had the same majors. We used to study, drive around the city, dine at restaurants and watch movies together. Our adventures were nothing short of the adventures of Huckleberry and Tom Sawyer. We even crashed a wedding, but never engaged in any life threatening ventures.

It was the end of final exams and we were planning to visit our grandparents in Gudem, 400 kms away, for the summer. If we board a bus or a train to our native place, it would take us there in close to nine hours. The route was via Vijayawada and only one road connects Hyderabad and Vijayawada. The road has only two lanes, one for up and the other for down traffic, with no divider in between. It’s a heavy truck traffic road and is notorious for accidents that can cause death on the spot. Only a few daredevils could ever think of travelling that distance on a bike, let alone on a borrowed bike, in one night.

I was in charge of my brother-in-law’s bike while he was on a three year trip to the US. As its caretaker, I was only allowed to drive it for about 20 kms a day and at a top speed of 40 kmph to keep the engine up and running. It would be a crime to even think of using it for our escapade.

We did all the packing, had supper by 8:15 PM and started our journey by 8:40 PM. Other than us two, except for my friend Swati (in Hyderabad) and Krishna (in Vijayawada) no one else knew about our plan. Krishna knew many cops in Vijayawada and he could come in handy in an emergency. Since it could be a life ending trip, I thought of texting Swati on our updates. I was hoping that the texts could help if anything had gone wrong. She replied for a few of my texts and always hoped for the best.

@ 8:40 PM: “Got started, feeling a bit tired, slept for only 2 hrs last night.”

Reply: “GOOD LUCK”

We were prepared for a chilly summer night but never had an idea of what we were going to face. I was an experienced driver having driven over 60,000 kms in the city, but had little experience outside it. The first thing we faced was an onslaught of moths the moment we crossed the outskirts of the city. My helmet screen could hold them off, but things got tougher with no street lights and eventually the four-lane city road transformed into a two-lane highway.

By 10:15 PM, we had travelled about 50 kms and the going got really tough. I remember seeing a truck passing another truck perilously close to us. I reacted late, had to get off the edge and traveled a few yards off it. The moment I tried to get back on the road, with very low visibility, I tipped over and in an instant felt my helmet touching the ground, my cousin’s head hitting me hard on the back of my helmet.

I got on my feet immediately and helped him to get on his. Thanks to our gear, we were not seriously injured. My helmet screen got broken and apart for minor scratches to our jerkins, we were left unscarred.

“Shall we turn back?” I asked.

“No, after travelling this far!” he answered.

We inspected our bike. Since we hadn’t hit anything, the bike was OK and we resumed our trip. This time, I was extra careful. It was my idea to do the trip and my cousin’s life was in jeopardy.

By 11:30 PM, we had travelled about 82 kms and the skies opened up. It started as a slight drizzle but soon turned into a heavy downpour. Since I had lost my helmet screen, the rain appeared to be raining directly into my eyes.

“If you want to live, PULL OVER.”, said a little voice in my head.

We were on a highway, and even if we had pulled over, there was no shelter to protect us from the heavy rain. I kept on driving and within minutes we were completely soaked. By 12 AM, we reached a small town and got under some kind of a roof to protect us from the heavy shower.

@ 12:05 AM I texted: “Stopped at someplace 90 kms from Hyd. It’s raining like anything.”

There was a power outage in that small town, and we stayed there for an hour. We tried to relax a bit by lying down on something dry, only to find cement dust all over it. We realized that it was the entrance to a cement store. I had never imagined that one day I would be lying down in a dusty place as a refugee. As we waited, we saw all the traffic from the city pass us and the road became practically empty.

By 1 AM, we could see some clearer skies and resumed our travel. By 2:30 AM, we stopped at Café Coffee Day in Surya Pet, half way to Vijayawada.

@ 2:40 AM I texted “Stopped at CCD in Surya Pet.”

The server in the café was astonished to see two people walking in at that time of the night with wet and soiled clothes. When he came back to reality and learned about our travel plan, he said, “How on earth did you get this idea? You don’t know what you’re playing with. This evening I saw a truck hit a biker in front of this café. I saw his head split into two in front of my eyes. Everything happened in an instant. Good luck with your journey, and if you survive this night, never try it again.”

@ 3 AM, I texted: “Had hot coffee, got refreshed, resuming travel.”

@ 4: 15 AM: “Stopped at the 135 ft statue of Panchamukha Anjaneyaswami.”

Reply: “I woke up at ur msg sound.”

Me: “Sorry to wake u up. Go back to sleep.”

Reply: “No problem, stay safe, good luck”

It was dawning by 5 AM, and we didn’t stop anywhere till we reached Vijayawada, even though it was drizzling all the time.

@ 6 AM: “Reached relatives’ place in Vijayawada, safe and sound.”

Reply: “Thank God. I guess this will be ur last update.”

Me: “Yeah well, thanks for staying with me.”

Reply: “Anytime… :-)”

Our relatives were even more surprised than the server at the café to see us that early in the morning out of nowhere. We had a light breakfast at their place and resumed our travel by 7:45AM.

The distance from Vijayawada to Gudem is about 120 kms and since it was after sunrise and with no rain, we had to deal only with our aching bodies. By 11 AM, we reached the outskirts of Gudem. We took a country road shortcut to avoid a two km roundabout in the town. Since it had rained heavily the previous night, the road was extremely dirty, and we had to drive with extra effort to avoid falling off the bike. The last mile appeared to be the toughest even after we had endured tougher driving conditions. It appeared as if we had prepared for the best and faced the worst. All was well that ended well, but a journey like that was not worth the risk.

It was a fun and memorable experience throughout to be honest, but at no point it was enjoyable. There was a constant fear that drove me all the way. My conscience kept on questioning, “What if I fall asleep? What are my parents going to say when they learn about this? How does my brother-in-law react?” Had anything gone wrong, this lifetime wouldn’t have been sufficient to recover.

My grandparents were happy and relieved to see us alive. They didn’t scold us scornfully, but advised us to take wiser decisions. “We may face adversities and have to bear consequences on any day, but isn’t it wise not to go looking for one?” said my Grandma. They never allowed us to ride the bike back to the city. We spent 250 bucks for fuel one way and had to spend 1200 bucks to bring the bike back to the city using public transport.

The Divine Perception

It is apparent that the world around us is the world as we perceive it. If we see a chaotic world, we perceive it as being chaotic. If we hear a rumor about something, we form a view based on that. When we touch something we feel its rigidity, smoothness etc. We taste and smell things and form an opinion. Generally the impressions so formed have two shades; positive-negative, like-dislike, good-bad, pleasant-unpleasant etc. There are many dimensions involved in forming these opinions. If length, breadth and width are the basic three, Einstein added time as the fourth dimension. If we perceive the world with our own senses, what would be the perception of the Almighty, Omnipresent, Omniscient and the Divine?

To foray into this, I would like to add the “state-of-mind” as the fifth dimension for a simple reason that senses are said to be greater than the body; but greater than the senses is the mind. State of mind influences the shade of the opinions and if the state of mind is receptive, there’s a chance that we could understand the Divine. The intellect which is greater than the mind manipulates the state of mind. With the spiritual intellectuality the divine perception can be understood.

There are four types of devotees; the seeker after worldly possessions, the afflicted, the seeker of knowledge and the man of wisdom. A man starts as a devotee at first seeking the worldly possessions, God obliges. But the worldly possessions bring troubles and sorrows as by products. The devotee afflicted by these sorrows, worships God and asks for help. When God relieves him of his stresses, he starts to realize the divine might and becomes a devotee of knowledge. God imparts divine knowledge to the devotee and makes him a man of wisdom.

The wisdom frees the man from the malice towards all beings making him friendly, compassionate and forgiving by nature. It frees him from the feeling of ‘I’ and ‘mine’, and balances him in joy and sorrow and makes him ever contended and mentally united with the supreme. It firms his resolve, subdues his mind, senses and body, and makes his mind and reason surrender to the almighty. Such a man of wisdom is free from delight, envy, perturbation and fear. He neither rejoices nor hates, nor grieves, nor desires. He wants nothing and is both internally and externally pure. He deals equally with friend and foe and is the same in honor and humiliation. He is alike in heat and cold, pleasure and pain and other contrary experiences. He is free from attachment. He takes praise and reproach alike, and is contented with any means of subsistence available. In short, he identifies the world not with his senses but with the divine perception.

We see hundreds of devotees visiting the temple daily. They even come from faraway places, take time to express their devotion by chanting some mantras and stotras, doing pradakshanas, namaskaras, and shastangaNamaskaras. What’s the Deity in the temple doing all this time? He stands there erect, motionless with all his alankaras intact. If we observe closely, His eyes are closed and there’s a faint smile on His lips. Just by looking at Him we feel ecstatic. With the Divine in the vicinity, we feel (with all our senses and mind) that we are connected to Him, but He still stands there erect and motionless. We don’t see Him talking but we still communicate. He is continuously in meditation and constantly responds to prayers of all his devotees, helping them ultimately become the men of wisdom.

For the devotees who recognize the world with divine perception there are no shades, but the shade of the Divine. Temple is the place where devotees, with proper state of mind, are turned into the men of wisdom. The Deity is the port that helps us connect to the spiritual world and help us attain the divine perception. The religious values which teach us this divine knowledge should be honored and the sanctity of the temple should be maintained.

Where's the party that night?

I have always wanted to do two things. One is to meet a person I met in the cyber world in-person in the real world. The second one is to attend a wedding party where I know no one. By sheer luck and weird coincidence, I came close to doing both on the same night. I did attend a wedding where I knew no one but the online friend I planned to meet at the wedding was the notable absentee that night.

My friend Swati's sister Sweta was getting married. I had been friends with Swati for over a year and she invited me for the wedding and the reception. The wedding muhurtham was on Thursday 18th Nov, 2010 at 5-55 AM and the reception was scheduled for Friday evening (and the dinner from 7:30 PM onwards). The thought of attending the wedding was tempting but it was scheduled too early in the morning. I am a night owl and was not in a mood to attend a ceremony that early in the morning. As I am a bachelor, who cooks for himself, I shall never miss the opportunity of a free meal. As a natural choice I planned to attend the wedding reception along with my brother (who was staying with me).

The address on the invitation read

Grand Solitaire
Vasavi Shreemukh,
Beside Lee Showroom,
Himayathnagar, Hyd.

I reached Himayathnagar by 8:30 PM, sought the blessings of Lord Venkateshwara of Himayathnagar temple for my little escapade but it took another hour to find the Grand solitaire or the Vasavi Shreemukh or the Lee showroom. I was so much into the endeavor of finding the address that even after finding the Grand Solitaire and the Vasavi shreemukh, I was still searching for the Lee showroom. We laughed at my stupidity and walked into the reception.

At the entrance, I caught a wild glimpse from a fat man. My conscience caught me for a second. I remembered that no one knew me there and fear engulfed me with the idea of getting caught & being shamefully kicked out. I assured myself that I knew Swati but here's the catch; she had an exam for the next day and was not attending the reception in the first place. Then what was I doing there? I was about to fill my heart with an exhilarating experience; I wanted to attend the wedding (at least the reception) where I knew no one and still come out of it not getting caught.

After we got in, the first thing I did was emptying my bladder; it was an AC hall and also a winter night. Fear combined with a full bladder is a deadly combination. It was only after we reached the seating area that I noticed the fat man had followed me inside. I thought for a moment on how to prove my genuineness. As the bride and groom were ready with the cake on the dais, I wasted no time, took my digital camera out and went near the podium and took a few snaps. Hoping that either of Bride's and the groom's parties would think that I was from of the other party, I felt relaxed.

It was much past my supper time and I could feel my stomach complaining, but the reception was still in progress with everyone waiting for their turn to get a photograph with the newly-wed. I too wavered to do that but the idea of announcing that I was an alien right to the bride and the groom felt like the stupidest idea. The dinner arrangements were spot-on. All the dishes were very neatly arranged and divided into starters, main courses and desserts. The main courses were still divided into veg and non-veg categories. The plates, spoons and forks were arranged right in front of the dishes in an aesthetic fashion that to disturb them and spoil the beauty would be an atrocious crime. Soon enough, someone made a move and the pile of dinner plates started to grow down. We filled our plates with the starters, main courses and what not? It was aesthetically delicious, wedding special besides being a free meal.

I took my time to complete my meal, refilled the plate several times all the way calculating the remaining room in my stomach to accommodate all the dishes. While I was busy chewing, I overheard someone talking something about Swati. I concentrated hard to hear the conversation. One middle-aged uncle was inquiring a grey-haired aunt about Swati's absence. I remembered Swati as a very diligent, highly competitive student who took her studies too seriously that she was not even attending her sister's wedding reception where everyone was sincerely missing her. I, on the other hand, talked my brother, (who also had an exam the next day) who didn't know much about Swati and honestly nothing about Sweta, into attending the reception.

All the time, it felt like everyone was looking at me inquisitively. The feeling of guilt was really killing me. But no one ever showed at least a little interest in knowing about me., even I carefully avoided everyone's eye contact. It was almost 10:30 PM when I checked my watch. We finished our meal and calmly came out of the banquet hall. To my utter surprise the fat man at the door was still eyeing me suspiciously. He observed us until we took our bike from the parking lot and until we left, or was it just my feeling?

The party ended there with me crossing off one item in my long list of "At least once in a life time to-do" things. But the one to meet an online friend in the real world still remains.