The Education Space…..

I spent the first eight and a half years of my life in large homes. My family then moved, for two and a half years, to a small apartment in Madras, where a minimum of seven shared a single shower, sink and toilet. Then, we moved, once more to spacious premises. Marriage followed and my husband and I relocated to an apartment in State College PA, about the same size as the one in Madras but appearing larger with only two in it. We next built our own home with enough and more space. As has been routine in my life, one more move, back to India, to a large house where I live most of the time. The rest of the time, I travel to a still tinier apartment in State College, when time and schedules permit.

Several little happenings had me reflecting on my various homes. At a recent school reunion, many classmates fondly inquired about my mother, recalling how often they used to visit my then home (the tiny Madras apartment, which was a stone’s throw from my school) and reflecting on the affection and good refreshments she had always provided. In an independent event, a new friend, upon hearing that I was mostly home schooled, was interested in pursuing the topic and we ended up discussing the various types of schooling, its pros and cons etc. for quite a while. Then, last month, as my family and I relaxed in our compact State College apartment, my son remarked on how nice it was to have the whole family around in a small, confined area. It was an interesting comment for one who had grown up almost throughout in large spaces.

For me, where we lived had never made a difference. When my son made that comment, I realised it would not, for anyone, if the physical structure of the home is not the focus. My days in Madras in the small apartment were wonderful – surrounded by cousins, several friends, assorted relatives of all ages stopping by, people we did not particularly know – children playing cricket outside asking for water, neighbours asking to use the telephone (a rarity then) etc. Everyone who knew us then looked back only fondly – the decor (or rather, the lack of it), decrepit appearance of the flat, the objects lying hither-thither – nothing mattered. All that did was how the people conducted themselves. Everything stayed the same. We studied the same way, the family interacted the same way and followed the same routine. We did not entertain only in those accommodations that were spacious or that had had manicured yards and coiffed interiors. We were the same everywhere. While the dishes we served food in might have changed from banana leaves to china, based on local availability, the food did not – my mother cooked everything from scratch with the same number of items, the same exacting attention to detail and always, always, served it personally – irrespective of any servants we might or might not have had.

Then, I went back to my home schooling discussion and the question my friend had asked as to whether it was possible to do it now, under present circumstances, with just one parent actively present. I was also reminded, at that moment, of the now-seemingly-ubiquitous Blue Whale scourge and why it was becoming so pervasive and what makes children follow the commands of a game so willingly when they often don’t listen to their parents. It was then I realised that in the present day, it would actually be advantageous to live in small premises where an effective eye can be maintained on children. Privacy for children is not required and is NOT a good thing. Besides limiting screen time of all types for children, I have been a strong advocate for personal computers being placed in public areas in homes with the screen visible to others, non-issuance of hand held gadgets for children and regular look-sees on the kids. Giving gadgets to children can be extremely tempting for parents – it allows you to have real chunks of uninterrupted time. As relieving and delightful as it is to have undisturbed time, indulging in it can be deadly with children around. In small spaces, privacy is automatically limited. I recall my grandmother asking me every few minutes, “Enna PaNNarai?” (what are you doing). I found it annoying then, but now completely understand why she did so.

As we move towards a room, a gadget and, possibly, a vehicle per child, I have come to the conclusion that it is actually easier and less stressful to raise children in a smaller space. Real interaction automatically happens. We now have research strongly advocating having meals together – in such a setup, it would be the only way meals occur. Add in a joint family with various ages, you have a winning proposition – I sincerely believe it takes a village to raise a child. Someone is always around. Of course, I am no longer the idealist that I once was, and realise the inherent assumptions in that statement – that the family members are good and cooperative people, not at loggerheads with each other and further, not materialistic or trying to keep up with the Joneses. Food for thought and, I know, easier said than done.