How Ashadeep’s special children became an integral part of the school, taking part in co-curricular activities, school assembly and even learning skating with close supervision.
The truth — All men are created equal.
Then who is handicapped ?
“When we do not see hope
We are Blind
When we are afraid of walking in the unknown
We are Lame
When we are not ready to hear the cry of justice
We are deaf
And
When we do not assert ourselves for a better society
We are Mentally Retarded
—Dr A.K. Banerjee Chowdhary
My husband took over the command of a division at Ranchi in October 2000 and soon thereafter, I requested to meet the families unit-wise rather than the whole station together which was customary. I asked the mentally and physically challenged children to come with their mothers so that I could spend time with them exclusively before meeting the others. In the next two months or so, as I met group after group, a pattern emerged.
Except for one polio affected child who was studying in Kendriya Vidyalaya, none of the 23 special children were going to school. The mothers were distressed and exhausted. Some of them had tried but told me they had to withdraw their children because of their “violent” and unpredictable behaviour in the classroom. I suggested that the mothers accompany their children to school; most said it was impossible and those who had tried it were unsuccessful and helpless. Our own nursery schools-run by ladies of the division had turned down admission to these “special” children because they disrupted the class routine and the teachers did not know how to handle them.
The situation filled me with despair. I was determined to do something. But, “where do I begin?” I fervently believe that if you want something badly, the Divine brings it to you in some form or another. My answer came to me in the form of a knock at my office door. I was told that a havaldar / clerk Tripathi wanted financial assistance from our welfare association for his challenged child. I did not recall meeting the child earlier so I immediately asked to see the family.
In walked a diminutive child who was eight years old according to the application in my hand. However he did not look older than five years though he had the expression of a wise old man. He had sharp features, an exceptionally large forehead and receding hair line. He wished me by folding his hands politely when his father told him to and accepted the sweets I gave him with a whisper of a smile. I drew a “smiley” on a sheet of paper and pushed it towards him with a pencil and invited him to write so that he would be busy while I spoke with his father. To my delight, young Pramod turned the sheet around so that it was the right side up for him to start scribbling.
Havaldar Tripathi told me his son had been born with cerebral palsy, which they discovered soon after. They had been out of town at the time of the Welfare Meet, so we had not met. He had found a school for challenged children in the heart of Ranchi town, “Deepshikha” being run by an NGO. He used to take the child twice a week on his scooter as an outdoor patient for therapy and medication. Pramod had picked up a lot like brushing his teeth and putting on his shoes in the few months that he had been going there. However it was expensive and he could not keep up and requested assistance. We spoke of the pros and cons of his son continuing at Deepshikha. It was not viable for him to take his child during office hours indefinitely, nor could we take the responsibility of sending him and other children like him fifteen kilometres away into the city without their parents every day, especially with traffic sense and law and order in newly created Jharkhand being what it was. I gave Havaldar Tripathi a one-time grant but vowed to do something tangible for little Pramod. I told him no one would have to go outside our Army area and we would bring the best home.
I located Deepshikha and went to visit the institution. The management was a group of highly motivated ladies led by a clinical psychologist, Dr Alka Nizamie. Vocational training, speech and hearing therapy and physiotherapy were an integral part of the curriculum. They had a team to evaluate the children and a facility to train special educators. I was happy to meet them and asked for guidance so that we could do our best for our special children. They were equally delighted to meet me as their objective was to take the message of education and care of the challenged to the masses. And we had actually come to their doorstep ourselves to ask for what they did best. This started a wonderful partnership based on co-operation and we parted with a lot of hope.
In Phase One we organised an Awareness Seminar. Dr. Nizamie and two special educators were invited to speak with the parents of all special children in our station, along with all the officers’ wives and particularly teachers of our Nursery Schools and Army school. It was a very educative and interesting seminar. The message to the parents was that they were not alone; we were all together in the challenge to make their children as normal as possible and get them to fit into the stream of everyday life. We all learnt how to deal with everyday behaviour in a positive manner and give them the love and attention they needed, with examples.
On that day I spelt out to the audience our plan of action which had become crystallised in my mind by then. I wanted to start a well -planned special class within the environment of a “normal” school. Dr Alka told me this would be the most modern and ideal situation! A great sense of camaraderie and mutual trust was forged between the parents, the specialists at Deepshikha and we the Army Wives Welfare Association.
Phase Two was the evaluation of the children. We ensured that every affected child got a complete physical and mental evaluation done by the experts at Deepshikha. Even those children who had been evaluated earlier at various places or had been undergoing physiotherapy went through the tests again. This exercise took two months. Once everyone’s cards were ready, the experts sifted the children into various categories.
Some children were advised to join the mainstream education programme, so we got them admission in the Army School and KV. Since the teachers had attended the Awareness Seminar, they were better prepared to deal with the children and to use their presence for the advantage of others. An expert physiotherapist was employed to treat the children in the evenings near their homes.
For those children who could not join the educational mainstream, we decided to start our own class for special children within the confines of our already existing Cockerel Nursery at Dipatoli. The children would be an integral part of the school, come in same school buses as the other children albeit accompanied by a parent for as long as needed; wear the same uniform, attend the same assembly and then move to their class where a trained special educator would give them the care they deserved.
This was the beginning of a dream. Deepshikha gave us names of committed special educators trained by them. One of them was a young boy of twenty two-a fresh trainee. Initially I was a little apprehensive of taking him as I thought he would use this job as a stepping stone to more attractive paying pastures. I even mentioned this to him. But during the interview, his quiet sincerity came through and I employed him. Also he had no transport problem like the women and his need for the job was the greatest. With guidance and suggestions from Ravi and the Deepshikha staff, we ordered suitable furniture, toys, books and equipment for various activities. We also ordered special books and video cassettes for the information of parents and other teachers of the school.
Finally we were ready for our dream to come true. On 20 June 2001, Mrs Prabha Joshi, President AWWA Central Command inaugurated ASHADEEP. ASHA (from the Asha schools around the country) and DEEP (from Deepshikha) together formed our Lamp Of Hope.
Though we launched on our own, we asked Deepshikha experts to come monthly to monitor progress and requirements of the children, help structure the curriculum and have discussions with parents and other teachers.
The Ashadeep children became an integral part of the school, taking part in co-curricular activities, school assembly and even learning skating with close supervision. They played happily in the break with supervision and the other children began to accept and respect them.
When my husband got his posting to Pune in March 2002, he was deployed with the division. I was tempted to take one last nostalgic look at everything but sternly told myself it was time to let go. The girls gave me a lovely ladies club farewell and a station welfare meet. But I longed to see the children. I was touched when Indu, the principal, asked me to visit Ashadeep. I was amazed and moved to tears as I saw the children moving around happily, smiling confidently and showing me their works of art and craft. I was amused to see how mischievous some of them had become. Previously reticent, shy Sonu was besides herself presenting me a flower.
Looking around me, I felt that the Lamp of Hope had indeed touched a number of lives. Not only had the children and their parents benefitted but for me personally it was a great learning journey. The whole experience including the close interaction with the families involved, has enriched my life tremendously. I am sure all associated with the project felt the same.
Ravi, the quiet young special educator told me that when I had appointed him, I was afraid he would leave us for other pastures—he didn’t go; but I was the one leaving.
How could I tell him that in spirit, heart and mind I would never go away?
In a way perhaps I have left a little bit of myself there.