A generation of wimps?

A typical day off from school, for my brother and me, was characterised by waking up at a later time than usual. On school days, we were woken up at 7.00 am. On our day off, we were allowed to sleep till 7.15.

This was usually followed by a quick breakfast, and then hanging around the homestead till we either went out and hired bicycles, or went swimming at the school pool.

Riding bicycles usually meant there were lesser chances of us being drowned that day by moronic friends as we gracefully displayed our dog paddling technique.

On the other hand, it also meant we’d be trying stupid stunts we saw in movies such as ‘BMX Bandits’. It never occurred to us that those wheelies, bunnyhops, stair drops and ramp jumps were performed by experts. And unlike nowadays, where almost everything carries a disclaimer or warning, no one told us that such things could maim or kill. Still, we knew better than to jump from a high wall – attired in a towel cape – expecting to fly.

Besides, woe be upon us if our ‘stunt’ bruises were accidentally discovered by mummy. That usually meant a super verbal dressing down, some corrosive ointment, a thrashing, and a promise of some more when dad got back from work. At such times, death did seem like a better option.

And then, we played in the afternoon sun. Heat strokes were an urban legend, and children never got sick from drinking water from garden hoses, or eating street-side ice golas. We invented games that included sticks, stones, two teams and battle plans. And when we got bored of that, we fought each other barehanded. We had fights and got black and blue and learned to get over it. Fighting with other kids – no matter whose fault we thought it was – only meant further beatings from the tired pater when he returned home. (It must be said that as kids, my brother and I already had a fair idea of how the villains felt when Steven Segal pushed them around in those action movies. Dad was better than Segal. He wouldn’t beat us as much as he’d humiliate us with his superb martial prowess. So when you were pitted against dad, you knew there was never going to be any ‘Escape to Victory’.)

So anyway, on the days we got physically chastised by our loving parent, we’d usually spend the evening licking our wounds, and making plans to never repeat the offending act – or if we did, to never get caught. Our actions had consequences.

And then, there was homework to do, which was to be completed on time, every time, so we could be fed and put to bed at the unearthly hour of 9 pm. We did not have gaming consoles, no cable, no DVD’s, no cell phones, personal computers, or chat rooms. We slept early.

School days saw us attired in crisp white shirts and battle grey trousers, ready for our trysts with teachers who supposedly were recruited from mediaeval torture chambers, and adhered to the simple latin motto: spare de stickus and spoilus the childus. So, if you were caught talking in class, it could probably mean a date with birch, or whatever branch was handy. Didn’t do your homework? Hah! Only the foolhardy would attempt such an idiocy. I was an idiot. That usually meant another beating, or if you were unlucky that day, a renewal of your acquaintance with the Jesuit school principal who was more like a mercenary from Sierra Leone.

The idea, my parents bailing us kids out if we got in trouble in school or broke a law, was unheard of. They actually sided with the school or the law. Imagine that!

And four times a year, to torture our little spirits, schools had tests. If you didn’t study, you failed. Besides, some kids weren’t as smart as others, so they failed too, and were held back to repeat the same class. But we understood that, and we lived with it. It was one of life’s lessons that we learnt early.

But the times they are a changin’. The kids of today, it seems, are much more sensitive than we were. Parents and teachers had better not correct an erring child in front of other children – much less, employ corporal punishment or it might hurt his or her frail sense of self.

And the education system is going easy as well. If you don’t like maths, well, there’s an easier version that you could try out.

In May, the education department sent a circular to schools asking them to promote all the failed students up to Std VIII.

And then, this morning, newspapers carried reports of how the Maharashtra State Board has decided that Secondary School Certificate (SSC) results will be calculated taking the five best scores out of the six subjects. How convienient.

So, kids – now on – will not be corrected; they will be promoted – year after year – till Standard VIII, regardless of how they fare; and when they finally reach Standard X, they can just as easily avoid the subject they find tough. All they need to do is to get passing marks in that one, and it won’t even affect their overall scores. Best five scores, remember?

So what should someone like me do? Because when I went to school, I learnt that actions have their consequences. I hope these new rules do not create a generation of spoilt wimps. But can I call these kids wimps, or will it only affect frail sensibilities?