In a Class VI classroom somewhere in Kashmir, a teacher asks, “What is photosynthesis?” A girl rises and recites the definition flawlessly, word for word. The teacher nods, satisfied. Minutes later, the same girl glances at the walnut tree outside the window and wonders why its leaves turn yellow in October. She does not ask. She is unsure whether the question belongs in a science class, and she fears being wrong in front of her peers. She knows the answer. She has no idea she is standing in front of the question.
This small moment holds a large contradiction. Are we educating children to understand the world, or training them primarily to reproduce what they have been told? Can we transform education by changing curricula, textbooks, assessment patterns, and administrative instructions if the mindsets shaping everyday schooling remain unchanged?
Policy Vision and Classroom Experience
The National Education Policy 2020 and the National Curriculum Framework for School Education 2023 are, at their core, a call to think differently about children. They speak of the holistic development of learners, of conceptual understanding in place of rote memorisation, of competency-based, experiential, and inquiry-based learning, and of assessment that supports learning rather than merely classifying learners. They emphasise critical thinking, creativity, communication, collaboration, constitutional values, and responsible citizenship. They also recognise that children come to school with diverse languages, cultures, and experiences, and that this diversity is a resource for learning, not a problem to be managed.
The vision is compelling. Yet anyone who has spent time in schools knows how stubbornly everyday practice resists it. Syllabus completion, examination results, record-keeping, and familiar routines can quietly outrank the question of whether children are actually learning. Why do reforms so often change the language of schooling faster than its experience? Perhaps because we have treated reform as a matter of documents rather than of beliefs.
A new vocabulary of “competencies” and “learning outcomes” can be adopted in a week. A belief about what a child is, and how a child learns, takes years to change. Teachers, parents, leaders, and administrators carry assumptions about authority, discipline, intelligence, and success that no circular can rewrite.
The task is not to abandon schooling as we know it. Schools hold immense value: they provide structure, continuity, shared knowledge, and a community of peers. The task is to question those practices that prevent schooling from fulfilling its educational purpose.
The Child as Active Learner
For generations, the dominant image has been of the child as a vessel waiting to be filled. Yet any parent who has watched a toddler dismantle a toy knows better. Children observe, question, explore, imagine, and construct understanding from their experiences. They arrive at school as thinkers.
The difference between remembering and understanding is visible everywhere. A child may memorise the formula for the area of a rectangle yet be unable to work out how much carpet a room needs. Another may reproduce the definition of evaporation without being able to explain why wet clothes dry faster in the summer sun than in a damp Srinagar winter. Real learning happens when children connect new ideas with what they already know, test their thinking, meet different perspectives, and gradually refine their understanding.
This does not mean the adult should step back. Child-centred education is not education without guidance. Children need knowledgeable teachers who can explain difficult concepts, provide scaffolding, correct misconceptions, and introduce them to bodies of knowledge they could never rediscover alone. A child cannot invent algebra or the periodic table through curiosity alone. The aim is to build children’s capacity to think, not merely their ability to repeat what others have thought.
The Teacher’s Changing Question
At the heart of the change lies a simple shift in the question a teacher asks at the end of the day. From “Have I taught this chapter?” to “What have my students understood?” The first measures coverage. The second measures learning.
With this shift come others. A question from a student becomes a starting point for inquiry rather than an interruption of the lesson. A mistake becomes evidence of developing understanding rather than a failure to be punished. Silence and obedience are no longer the only signs of a good student; thoughtful participation matters as well. Teachers begin to notice that children differ in pace, language, experience, and need, and that teaching every child in precisely the same way is not equality but oversight. Assessment turns from a final verdict into continuous feedback.
We must be honest about the conditions in which teachers work. Prescribed curricula, large classes, limited resources, examination pressure, and administrative demands are real. A teacher in a remote school with multi-grade classes, or one posted in a high-altitude area where the school year is cut short by snow, cannot be blamed for choosing efficiency over experiment.
Teachers are not the obstacle to reform; they are its most important agents, and they need support worthy of that role. Teacher development must be sustained, reflective, and rooted in real classroom problems. Teachers need time to examine children’s work together, to learn from colleagues, to try something new and discuss what happened, and to exercise professional judgment within the curriculum.
Nor does purposeful facilitation replace explicit instruction. The skill of good teaching lies in knowing when to explain, when to demonstrate, when to question, when to guide, and when to step back and let children explore.
Curriculum and Life
The curriculum is humanity’s accumulated knowledge, offered to the young. Its purpose is not merely to be completed but to equip children with concepts, skills, values, and intellectual tools for understanding life. It becomes powerful when children can use it to interpret the world around them.
Consider what Jammu and Kashmir offers. A local market is a classroom for arithmetic, measurement, economic exchange, language, and social relationships. An apple orchard invites questions about plant growth, seasonal change, estimation, biodiversity, agricultural practice, and sustainability. A stream or lake raises questions about ecosystems, pollution, public responsibility, and scientific evidence. Traditional crafts such as papier-mâché, carpet weaving, and woodwork connect geometry, design, material science, history, and the dignity of work. Concerns such as waste management, road safety, and water conservation can become age-appropriate projects.
This is the movement from problems to projects: children identify a question, gather information, examine evidence, work together, propose solutions, and reflect on what they have found. But let us be clear. Contextual learning must complement, not replace, systematic teaching. Mathematics, science, languages, and the social sciences demand conceptual depth, deliberate practice, and academic rigour. Connecting learning with life is meant to make knowledge more meaningful, not less demanding.
From Fear to Feedback
Nothing shapes classroom culture as powerfully as assessment. When marks become the dominant measure of achievement, teachers feel compelled to teach to the test, parents begin to equate marks with intelligence, and children learn to associate learning with fear. A child who is afraid of being wrong will not ask the question that matters.
Good assessment gives a clearer picture of what children know, understand, can do, and still need help with. Questioning, observation, portfolios, project work, rubrics, peer interaction, and constructive feedback all contribute to that picture, and they align with the competency-based and holistic vision of NEP 2020 and NCF-SE 2023. This does not mean abandoning examinations or lowering expectations. It means ensuring that examinations measure worthwhile learning and lead to improvement. Assessment must serve the learner’s progress; it must never become an instrument of humiliation, comparison, or exclusion.
From Pressure to Partnership
Children’s relationship with learning is formed long before they reach a classroom, and it continues to be shaped at home. Many parents sincerely want their children to succeed, and many are responding to genuine anxieties about examinations, jobs, and the future. Yet anxiety travels. It reaches children through constant instruction, comparison with cousins and neighbours, sarcasm, and approval that depends almost entirely on performance.
There is a vital distinction between unconditional respect for a child and accountability for a child’s actions. Parents can set boundaries, insist on responsibility, and correct wrong behaviour without making a child’s dignity or sense of belonging conditional on marks. Listen before instructing. Welcome questions, even when the answers are not at hand. Offer age-appropriate choices and responsibilities. Respond to mistakes with reflection rather than ridicule. Resist comparisons that turn learning into a contest for adult approval. Talk about friendships, experiences, and interests, not only homework. Children need emotional security as much as academic guidance. When parents and teachers work as partners rather than as rival authorities, children gain curiosity, resilience, and a healthy relationship with learning.
The Community and the Learning Space
Education cannot remain the sole responsibility of schools and families. Communities hold knowledge that no textbook contains: the farmer who understands soil and weather, the artisan whose hands carry generations of skill, the health worker, the writer, the local entrepreneur. Such people should be more than occasional chief guests at annual functions. Children should learn with them and from them, understanding livelihoods, local history, environmental challenges, and civic responsibility. Community knowledge deserves respect, and it also deserves examination through evidence, critical thinking, and ethical reflection. The regions of Jammu and Kashmir each offer their own languages, landscapes, and traditions, and the aim is to engage that diversity thoughtfully, not to reduce it to postcard stereotypes.
The spaces in which children learn speak just as clearly. A classroom communicates a philosophy through its seating, displays, resources, and routines. If children are only expected to listen, copy, and reproduce, the room reinforces passivity. If they are invited to investigate, discuss, create, and question, the room supports thinking. Flexible seating where feasible, walls that display children’s questions and developing work, accessible books, and purposeful use of libraries, playgrounds, school gardens, and the neighbourhood do not require expensive infrastructure. They require imagination and the willingness to see ordinary spaces as sites of learning, which is exactly the experiential vision of NCF-SE 2023.
From Compliance to Enabling Change
None of this will endure if the system around schools continues to reward only compliance. Teachers cannot be expected to nurture curiosity if the system measures only procedural conformity. Parents cannot be expected to value deep learning if public measures of success are marks and ranks. Schools cannot sustain innovation if every departure from routine is viewed with suspicion.
Several directions follow. Teacher education should be aligned with the classroom practices NEP 2020 and NCF-SE 2023 envision. Professional learning communities and peer observation should become regular features of school life. School-based projects should connect curricular goals with local contexts.
Academic monitoring should become supportive and reflective, focused on children’s learning rather than on the neatness of registers. Teachers should enjoy reasonable professional autonomy within curricular requirements. Educational progress should be judged through multiple forms of evidence, not records of compliance alone. And parents and communities should be drawn into honest conversations about what schooling is for. Mindset change cannot compensate for teacher shortages, poor infrastructure, or excessive workloads. Sustainable transformation needs both changed attitudes and enabling conditions.
Small Steps, Larger Purpose
Where might we begin? A teacher can choose one meaningful question or local problem and design a structured learning experience around it. A parent can replace some routine instructions with attentive listening and give a child a decision to make. A school head can create time for teachers to discuss classroom experiences and examine student work together. An administrator can encourage responsible experimentation, reduce avoidable procedural burdens, and make monitoring about the quality of learning. A community can offer its knowledge and invite children into real concerns. These are starting points, not substitutes for policy support, professional development, adequate resources, or accountability.
The Girl and the Walnut Tree
Return to the girl in Class VI. Imagine her teacher pausing after the definition and asking, “Where have you seen this happening?” Imagine her question about the yellowing leaves being welcomed, tested, and followed through a small investigation in the school garden. Imagine her parents asking at dinner, “What did you wonder about today?” rather than “How many marks did you get?” Imagine a local orchardist visiting to explain what he observes in autumn, a classroom whose walls display her questions, and a school leader who trusts her teacher to teach this way.
She would not know less. She would know more, and know it more deeply, because her knowledge would be connected to the tree outside her window.
Transformation begins when adults reconsider not only what children must learn, but how they learn, what they are capable of becoming, and what a society expects its schools to achieve. A child’s mind is not a container to be filled but a flame to be tended. And flames, as every Kashmiri who has sat by a kangri in winter knows, are kept alive not by commanding them, but by caring for them.
(The Author is a Senior Academician, Content Creator and a Teacher Educator writing on educational research, policy, and reform. He can be mailed at: [email protected])
