Last week's grocery run yielded an unexpected surprise - a tomato, playfully resembling a rubber duck toy, caught my eye and sparked a train of thought about the beauty of imperfection. Yes, we’ve all seen them - tomatoes that defy the conventional shape, taking on forms that resemble ducks, swans, or even cute cartoon characters. We marvel at their uniqueness, appreciating the quirks of nature that make them special. Some of us might even go so far as to share pictures of these anomalous tomatoes on social media, celebrating their individuality. But what happens when we encounter a child who doesn't fit the conventional model? A child who struggles to read, write, or calculate in the same way as their peers? Suddenly, our attitude shifts. We label them as "different," "incapable," or even "useless." We question their intelligence, their potential, and their worth. Why do we have two different standards for appreciating imperfection? Why do we celebrate the uniqueness of a misshapen object, yet condemn the differences in a child? The answer lies in our societal attitudes towards ability and disability. We've been conditioned to view differences in human ability as deficiencies, rather than as natural variations. We've created a world that values conformity over individuality, where those who don't fit the model are often marginalized and excluded.
But it's time for us to rethink our approach. It's time for us to recognize that every child, regardless of their abilities or disabilities, has inherent value and worth. It's time for us to create a world that celebrates diversity, rather than trying to eradicate it. So, the next time you see a misshapen tomato, remember the child who doesn't fit the conventional model. Remember that their differences are not deficiencies, but rather a natural part of the human experience. And let's work together to create a world that values and celebrates every individual, regardless of their shape, size, or ability.
Shwetha (Spl. Educator)
Last week, I met my niece, Arya, who struggles with dyslexia. She used to dread school because traditional methods just didn’t work for her. But things changed this year. Her school introduced AI-powered tools that read aloud and explain concepts in ways she can understand. For the first time, Arya said, “I actually enjoy studying!” Her school didn’t stop there. They’ve also started sessions on managing stress and created safe spaces where students can talk about their feelings. Arya’s teachers are more understanding too, thanks to training on supporting neurodiverse learners. It got me thinking — this is what education should be: a mix of innovation and empathy, where no student feels left out. If Arya can now dream of being an artist, imagine what inclusive, tech-driven education could do for millions of children worldwide. What’s your take on this new wave of learning?
Meeta Dey, TGT English Teacher