Imagine our shock when we hear that those students are waiting for the essay competition. Much to our dismay, we discover the teachers made a general announcement to their classes about the competition, leaving out the vital “girls-only” component. As a result, we have that talkative bunch out there waiting to start writing. It would be awful to disappoint them, so we make an on-the-spot decision to convert this into an unrestricted competition. (Note to self: we have to figure out how to get make the "girls-only” rule work the next time.) Vichu, my brother who is accompanying us, is coerced to go right away and buy writing paper from the little corner store next to the school.
We walk out to the semi-playground in front of the school where the students are. I ask where they are going to write, and am informed that they are going to do so right there - on the ground. There are no free classrooms for us. (Another note to self: conduct the next essay competition during a holiday so we can get some classrooms. Oh wait. If we do that over holidays, participation might not be as good. Scratch this note to self.)
The Headmistress (HM) asks the students to separate out by groups. It looks like there are lot more students in the higher classes (IX-XII). She says a few words to the assembled students asking them to write well. She assigns a teacher to help us with the coordination and leaves. He promptly disappears right after her. So, we are pretty much left to our own devices.
Hema, my sister-in-law who had volunteered to be the local coordinator, used to be a kindergarten teacher. Her prior experience comes in handy as she takes charge, and starts in her best classroom voice:
- We will announce the essay competition title and then give everyone an hour and 15 minutes. You can think, plan, create a rough draft, or do nothing for the first 15 minutes. Then you get to write for an hour.
- We will provide paper. You can write as much as you want in that hour.
- Once you are done, we will take it away for evaluation.
- There will be two marks for handwriting, two marks for presentation, and six marks for content.
- Any questions?
Multiple heads nod no and Hema announces the title - My Dream.
Vichu arrives with two quires of writing paper and it is distributed. A few have brought their own paper. Scales, pencils, pens, color pencils, and sketch pens come out of boxes. Margins are drawn. A couple of Thirukkural books are pulled out for reference. The competition starts in earnest. Very soon the paper supply is depleted. Vichu takes another quick trip to the small store outside the school compound.
I do a headcount (56 students) and ask Hema to double check the number. Earlier in the day we had decided to buy fountain pens as participation gifts. Now, we need to go pick them up. We borrow a bike for this part of the adventure. Vichu drives, I hang on for my dear life in the back seat (more because I did not know he could drive a bike in the first place), and we are off to get the pens. The first store we go to, they don’t have 56 identical pens. We go to a second, which is closed, then to a third, which is also closed. So, we are back to the first where we pick similar priced pens for everyone. They cost INR 35 per pen (for the boys) and INR 45 per pen (for the girls). We buy 58 pens (two more for good measure).
We rush back to the school where the competition is almost over. The junior class kids are all done while the senior classes are writing industriously. Vichu does another headcount and discovers there are now 61 students. Apparently, five more had joined the fray while we were gone. Now we are short three pens. Vichu rushes out one more time to buy more pens. (Note to self: this participation gifting needs to be better organized.)
Competition is almost over. Hema gives the “10 minutes left” announcement while I wander off to find a stapler. Vichu arrives after his pen purchase spree. We collect the papers. The HM arrives for the conclusion. There are a few speeches. Hema asks them if they know what the first prize is. The students chorus the cash award amount (Rupees 2,000). She asks if they would give that to their parents. Another chorus of yeses. She says that the first prize winners will also get gift certificates for INR 500 so they can buy books for themselves. For my part, I promise to come back next year and express the hope that there will be more girls at that time. The HM asks the students to study hard and promises to help them as they need it.
The HM and another teacher who helped us with the earlier coordination (no, not the one who disappeared, he never came back) hand out the pens. The students hang out to ask a few questions. The girls timidly wait for the boys to finish before they venture to ask their questions. Boys ask about the differences between U.S. and India. Girls ask what I had studied when I went to school in the neighboring town. We finish up.
In the conversation afterwards, the HM says that the girls are generally very shy and not as aggressive as the boys. She explains that events like these do not happen often but are important in helping them become a bit bolder. More conversations about how the students fare and future plans for the school.
Competition over, we meander out with multiple stops to check out the school scenery - a commemorative independence day pillar, the front entrance, boards for the school clubs (Scouts & Guides, Junior Red Cross, and Eco Club).
So our very first event is quite successful, despite minor hiccups on the way. Being able to actually be there to conduct the competition and witness the kids writing intently was very encouraging. Check out the photos and see if you agree.
Until next year…
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