“Two girls from this class were seen walking in the rain with boys, after school.”
We could feel the piercing gaze of 53 girls from standard 10C. Our Physics teacher had decided to humiliate my friend and me in front of the whole class. My 14-year-old mind was full of confusion. Had I committed such a great sin that I had to be reprimanded publically? How did the teacher know? Worse, how did all my classmates know it was my friend and I who were walking with the boys from the school opposite ours?
Our alleged transgression was compounded by the fact that I was the school captain and she was the class monitor. The teacher felt we were irresponsible. The day before, four of us had innocently walked home in the rain, clumsily trying to share an umbrella. For the next few months I felt ashamed and embarrassed. But we continued walking home together with the boys after school. When I meet those pot-bellied, balding boys today, with their wives and children, that memory seems strangely humorous.
Earlier this week, a 14-year-old girl in Bangalore jumped to her death after she was suspended for “hanging out” with a boy from her school. It was a chilling reminder of how schools can be deeply restrictive and oppressive spaces. This incident left me more confused than when I was 14 years old. Why are we stopping young people from hanging out? Falling in love? Having friends of the opposite sex? From wearing what they want? Where will all this regimentation and repression take us?
Apart from studying and learning, the years spent at school and college, nourish you socially. One creates deep emotional and intellectual ties with friends made during those wonder years. My all girls’ convent school prohibited us from talking to boys. But we did. And I am glad we did. I made some of my longest lasting friendships with boys from that opposite school. Those years of going to the Bandra Fair, attending the same French tuitions, or just loitering around bus stops created bonds that are irreplaceable. All those hours spent “chilling in the canteen”, “hanging out in the woods”, “sneaking into libraries”, and “talking all night on the phone”, during college days created indelible memories of that time.
Thwarting that interaction between two people who are interested in each other as friends, lovers, fellow time-passers, film buffs, techno geeks, music fans, crossword solvers or beer drinkers is preventing them from creating those memories.
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We could feel the piercing gaze of 53 girls from standard 10C. Our Physics teacher had decided to humiliate my friend and me in front of the whole class. My 14-year-old mind was full of confusion. Had I committed such a great sin that I had to be reprimanded publically? How did the teacher know? Worse, how did all my classmates know it was my friend and I who were walking with the boys from the school opposite ours?
Our alleged transgression was compounded by the fact that I was the school captain and she was the class monitor. The teacher felt we were irresponsible. The day before, four of us had innocently walked home in the rain, clumsily trying to share an umbrella. For the next few months I felt ashamed and embarrassed. But we continued walking home together with the boys after school. When I meet those pot-bellied, balding boys today, with their wives and children, that memory seems strangely humorous.
Earlier this week, a 14-year-old girl in Bangalore jumped to her death after she was suspended for “hanging out” with a boy from her school. It was a chilling reminder of how schools can be deeply restrictive and oppressive spaces. This incident left me more confused than when I was 14 years old. Why are we stopping young people from hanging out? Falling in love? Having friends of the opposite sex? From wearing what they want? Where will all this regimentation and repression take us?
Apart from studying and learning, the years spent at school and college, nourish you socially. One creates deep emotional and intellectual ties with friends made during those wonder years. My all girls’ convent school prohibited us from talking to boys. But we did. And I am glad we did. I made some of my longest lasting friendships with boys from that opposite school. Those years of going to the Bandra Fair, attending the same French tuitions, or just loitering around bus stops created bonds that are irreplaceable. All those hours spent “chilling in the canteen”, “hanging out in the woods”, “sneaking into libraries”, and “talking all night on the phone”, during college days created indelible memories of that time.
Thwarting that interaction between two people who are interested in each other as friends, lovers, fellow time-passers, film buffs, techno geeks, music fans, crossword solvers or beer drinkers is preventing them from creating those memories.