– Vishal
What is the relevance of our backgrounds when it comes to “equal” spaces like classrooms? Why should we even think about this when everyone’s caliber gets measured “equally”? When students share the same classes, same libraries and study resources, live in similar rooms in hostels, and eat the same foods from a mess, then why should they even bother about one’s background? Does it really matter where the person is coming from? Well, it does! In fact, it matters a lot! It shapes your opportunities, your worldview, your identity, and overall personality itself!
George Orwell’s iconic line from Animal Farm – ‘‘All animals are equal, but some are more equal than others” shows how the illusion of equality works in institutions of modern societies. Our constitution, too, guarantees equal rights but the society tells different stories. All sorts of inequalities exist in starfield society like ours which further gets reflected in classrooms of schools and colleges. Furthermore, these educational institutions become sites for the social reproduction of inequalities, favoring the affluent while excluding the marginalized.
Meritocracy: A Mask of Structural Privileges
Our assessment methods are largely based on marks and students abilities are often judged by the scores they achieve in exams. This one-size-fits-all approach to assessment causes huge pressures on students. The competition to get high marks and stay in the ‘race’ is so intense that is has tragically driven some students to despair, especially in the institutions like IITs.
This system is not neutral. It privileges those from dominant social locations—especially English-medium, urban, upper-caste, and economically secure backgrounds—who are better equipped to articulate, frame, and ‘perform’ the language of the academy. Those from oppressed and marginalized communities, particularly first-generation learners, are forced to constantly ‘adjust,’ ‘adapt,’ and ‘prove’ their worth in spaces never designed for them in the first place.
Even when they overcome all odds to be present in these institutions, the systematic violence doesn’t end. It morphs—into everyday microaggressions, institutional neglect, and alienation. The tragic case of Rohith Vemula is not an exception.
As Paulo Freire rightly argued in Pedagogy of the Oppressed, oppressed people come with their own epistemologies. They don’t enter classrooms with empty minds—they carry rich lived experiences that could transform academic discourse. But in spaces that only reward polished articulation and penalize raw truth, they are often silenced. They are not ‘lacking’—the system is. Their struggle is not about catching up; it’s about surviving in a structure designed to exclude them. The so-called ‘merit’ is nothing but a reflection of access—access to quality schooling, fluency in English, and cultural capital passed down through generations Therefore, excluded can not settle because unlike others, they have far more at stake.
What’s at Stake?
Some students come to such institutions at huge costs and many times with the sacrifice of their parents. They knew that they didn’t have a ‘second option’ or ‘backup plan’ and their only option is to study and excel themselves. They knew that if they fall, they didn’t have any safety nets unlike others, to save them. They know, they can’t fail simply because they can’t afford to fail!
Learning With a Cause Vs Learning for Maintaining The Status Quo
“You know what, my dad will be really unhappy if I don’t get an 8+ CGPA” is a concern—but it’s not the same as, “How can I waste time when my parents are working in the fields or factories every single day, despite their age and failing health?” or “How can I afford to ‘hang out’ when a rope of uncertainty constantly hangs over my future?”
A thirst for gaining knowledge, and hunger for acquiring skills makes them restless. In a sense, this quest is not limited to achieving something. Rather it is to create one’s own identity and to live with a dignity that has been denied to them for centuries. In the process, it is equally important to create assertive solidarity spaces – within and outside classrooms – where they can support, encourage, and learn from each other. With the inspiration from Phule and Ambedkar, several social initiatives in Maharashtra—such as Nalanda Academy, Ekalavya India Foundation, Samata Center, Savitribai Phule Resource Center, and the recently emerging Taanda Academy—are playing a vital role in nurturing such empowering spaces. These platforms not only provide academic support but also foster a sense of identity, solidarity, and purpose among marginalized youth.
It is this shared cause—the pursuit of knowledge, survival with dignity, and transformation of inherited realities—that fuels their unwavering commitment. Tried to capture such relentless spirit in the following lines:
It’s deeply moving to witness these young strivers—
Leaving behind their homes and loved ones,
Stepping into unfamiliar cities to carve out futures.
Who chooses to live like a stranger in a foreign land?
Yet they endure—sometimes holding tightly to their village roots,
Other times, navigating the borrowed identity the city offers.
Yes, they too stumble, momentarily dazzled by the city’s illusions.
But the weight of their responsibilities,
And the clarity of their purpose,
Keeps them moving forward, tirelessly and tenaciously.
A Myth of Being Neutral
It is always very discomfortable to allow to shake long-holding views rather than finding shelter in the comfort of confirming those views. Thus, unacknowledging privileges and normalizing biases become norms rather than exceptions. Once one is trapped in this cycle of self-fulfilling prophecy, it’s difficult to come out. In such a space, neutrality becomes a comfortable mask for maintaining the status quo.
Time and again, I’ve encountered individuals who, under the guise of being ‘neutral,’ construct imaginary narratives to downplay the daily, lived realities of caste-based oppression. They speak of so-called ‘reverse casteism’ – like the scenario where an educated Dalit passenger allegedly ‘shows off’ to a poor Brahmin auto-driver in Mumbai- portraying the privileged as victims while conveniently ignoring systemic violence and discrimination. Their sense of ‘humanity’ seems to extend only to those who share their ascribed status.
I’ve seen reservation policies mocked in so-called stand-up acts at cultural festivals like Saarang, and the same individuals display complete apathy in classrooms when the caste system is critically discussed. In group presentations, students choose to speak about caste outside of Hinduism – subtly implying that caste isn’t intrinsically linked to any particular religion – while conveniently overlooking its historical and structural roots. It’s like pointing out the dirt in a neighbor’s yard while turning a blind eye to the waste piling up in one’s own.
I have witnessed individuals asking juniors about their grades, an indirect way of inquiring about caste. I’ve heard queerphobic jokes and seen individuals laughing when members of the queer community express their concerns or assert their rights, thereby reinforcing heteronormativity. Meanwhile, some professors passionately critique racism in other countries but remain disturbingly silent on caste, gender, and religious discrimination in India. All these anecdotes illustrate how being ‘neutral’ often translates to siding with the oppressors.
It’s also important to remember that reality doesn’t exist in neat binaries of black and white. There are few people from privileged sections who genuinely engage in the struggle for equity and dignity. Despite their social positioning, their commitment to the cause makes room for hope – they become allies and active participants in the process of change. They serve as reminders that it is possible to unlearn deeply ingrained behaviors and transform from within. The only caution is this: solidarity must never slip into substitution. They must walk besides, not speak over, or occupy the spaces that belong to those whose voices have long been silenced.
Owning My Place and Privilege
While writing this piece, I found myself in a dilemma—should I include a personal account or not? But it felt unfair to speak about privilege and exclusion without first acknowledging my own position. After all, personal is political.
Being born into a dominant caste in a deeply stratified society, and being male in a patriarchal structure, I carry privileges that have undeniably shaped my journey. These unearned advantages allowed me to continue my education, unlike many of my schoolmates who never had that chance.
At the same time, coming from a rural background and being a first-generation learner, the path has not been straightforward. It took me an extra master’s degree to land here in IIT Madras -one of the most prestigious institutions in the country. Even here, I often struggle with feelings of inadequacy, especially when surrounded by classmates who speak with effortless fluency in English. And yet, I choose to assert my right to speak—whenever, wherever, and in whatever way I can.
Being constantly reflexive – about oneself and the systems we inhabit – is one of the fundamental prerequisites for not only being a good academician but a human too. Thus, being self-reflexive and acknowledging all these relative privileges that we all have could be the first step towards equity, dignity, deep respect and love for all.
Design by Alphin Tom
Article 19 