Latest news with #PauloFreire
The Hindu
5 days ago
- Politics
- The Hindu
The case for liberal education in technical fields
Recently, I was part of a panel discussion on the topic 'Liberal Education in the Age of Intelligence,' organised by the Rajagiri Round Table Conference. The topic provoked questions and reflection: Is the term 'liberal education' a misnomer or perhaps even redundant, since the very idea of education implies openness, inquiry, and freedom of thought? Are we truly living in an age of intelligence, or is it more accurately the age of Artificial Intelligence? Can the principles of liberal education be meaningfully integrated into technical and vocational training? Perhaps most significantly: What truly defines a liberal educator or a genuine champion of liberal education? Origins Etymologically, the word education originates from the Latin terms educare and educere, both of which convey the idea of drawing out or bringing forth what already exists within an individual. Viewed this way, education is not simply the transmission of knowledge, but the cultivation and development of a person's inherent potential; ideally in an environment that fosters freedom and growth. If we believe that education should inherently develop intellectual freedom, critical thinking, and open-mindedness — qualities central to the very concept of education — then the term 'liberal education' might seem redundant. After all, does the word education itself not suggest a liberal spirit, making the qualifier 'liberal' appear unnecessary? However, in practice, education is not always liberal. There is a wide gap between the ideal and the reality. Education systems that prioritise narrow specialisation or vocational training frequently neglect the broader and more reflective goals that liberal education seeks to advance. This is precisely where the term liberal education becomes meaningful. It underscores an approach that values a multidisciplinary perspective over a single-discipline focus, critical and creative inquiry over routine skill-based training, and civic responsibility over mere career preparation. Thus, we can argue that, in essence, liberal education is not a superfluous label and is a necessary reminder of what education is truly meant to be. The true purpose of education is to liberate the mind from all forms of shackles. Only when individuals are free can they truly think, imagine, and create. Without freedom, independent thought becomes impossible and without independent thought, new ideas cannot emerge. 'Education is freedom,' proclaimed Paulo Freire, a strong advocate for critical pedagogy and liberation education. The idea highlights that true education is not about enforcing conformity but about fostering liberation. When education is meaningful, it frees people from ignorance and passivity, empowering them to think critically, act purposefully and live responsibly and liberates learners from conformist, dogmatic, and passive mindsets. If it fails to cultivate the ability to think for oneself, it stops being education and turns into indoctrination. As Noam Chomsky points out, education and indoctrination are fundamentally different: the former encourages critical inquiry and independent thought, while the latter imposes unquestioned beliefs and suppress critical analysis. Liberal vs. technical The core principles of liberal arts education emphasise holistic development, multidisciplinary learning, and the idea of education as a means to enrich life, not merely a tool for survival. This raises an important question: Does technical education in India go against these principles? Opinions may differ, as institutions vary in their approach. However, broadly speaking, technical education in India tends to prioritise specialised skills, offers limited scope for interdisciplinary learning, and remains largely focused on employment and industry needs. In the U.S. and many other countries, Engineering and Medical programmes incorporate Humanities courses such as Literature, Philosophy, History, Political Science, and Economics to offer a more well-rounded education. Unfortunately, this kind of integration is still largely absent in India. Recently, during a conversation with a group of engineers and academics, I brought up the importance of including Humanities subjects in Engineering curricula. To my surprise, the idea was quickly dismissed by many, who regarded such courses as irrelevant and a waste of time. Liberal education complements science and technology. When its principles are integrated into technical fields like Engineering and Medicine, they help produce well-rounded, ethically grounded, and adaptable professionals equipped with critical thinking, effective communication, and interdisciplinary understanding. In their paper 'Toward a Liberal Education in Medicine,' Raymond H. Curry and Kathryn Montgomery propose a model that goes beyond ensuring competence in core knowledge, skills, and clinical perspectives. They argue for a more holistic approach—one that prepares not only competent physicians but also reflective, well-rounded individuals capable of navigating the moral, cultural, and intellectual challenges of contemporary medical practice. Technical education can become a true form of education and even a tool of liberation if it nurtures intellectual autonomy, ethical reflection, and critical inquiry. Without these elements, it risks becoming merely utilitarian training. A true champion of liberal education is not merely a teacher or academic, but a custodian of the liberal spirit; someone who embodies intellectual curiosity, upholds freedom of thought, and is deeply committed to the lifelong pursuit of knowledge. In the 21st century, this role is not limited to liberal arts educators; engineers, doctors, and other professionals, too, are expected to advocate for the values of liberal education. Today, qualities and values matter more than mere employability skills. A highly skilled individual lacking emotional intelligence may achieve technical success but is likely to struggle with empathy, leadership, collaboration, and earning public trust. Integrating liberal education into technical fields can not only help engineer minds but also doctor the hearts of society. The writer is an ELT resource person and education columnist. Email rayanal@
Mail & Guardian
11-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Mail & Guardian
Nyakallo Maleke and the gentle radicalism of drawing as care
Nyakallo Maleke makes joy an art form A few days after returning from a rain-soaked National Arts Festival in Makhanda, I sat down for a reflective conversation with multidisciplinary artist Nyakallo Maleke — whose quietly magnetic exhibition To Teach in Ways That Teach Us to Take Care of the Soul left an impression on me. The show, in its title and form, invites viewers not only to look but to participate, to make, to reflect and to feel. Our phone conversation was a gentle unravelling of process, philosophy and personal memory. Maleke, who had just returned from Makhanda herself, was recovering from the whirlwind that often comes with installing and presenting a major body of work: 'I was exhausted,' she laughed, 'and I'm still recovering.' Yet, her voice was clear, grounded and generously open. 'The title comes from a book by American writer bell hooks,' Maleke tells me as we begin our conversation about her exhibition. It's a long, lyrical title, one that lingers and, like much of Maleke's work, it's not interested in shortcuts or summaries. It asks for your attention, your patience and your willingness to feel. The book she references explores alternative approaches to education. It offers a way of learning that emerges not through rigid systems but through life, through vulnerability, through care and experience. 'Hooks draws from thinkers like Paulo Freire,' Maleke continues, 'who wrote about education for the oppressed. I'm drawn to both of them because I want to contribute to new modes of learning, ones that centre lived experience.' This emphasis on the soul, on feeling, remembering and making isn't just conceptual in Maleke's practice. It is embedded in the materials she uses: baking paper, cardboard, thread, wax, that carry a sense of home, of slowness and process. They don't shout. They don't demand. They invite. In this particular body of work, Maleke describes returning to the beginning of her drawing practice. 'I wanted to revisit how this conversation between materials and memory started. So much of what I used, like the cardboard and the thread, has been with me for a long time. Some of it comes from the market. Some of it reminds me of things I saw my mother doing.' What results is not just an exhibition but a process: 'The way I stitch, for example, is very intuitive. I don't design beforehand. I go with the flow,' she says. 'It becomes a conversation with the materials.' All stitched up: A work (left) from Nyakallo Maleke's installation To Teach in Ways That Teach Us to Take Care of the Soul, which was recently on at the National Arts Festival in Makhanda, and a scene from the show's interactive room, where exhibition-goers could co-create (right). This dialogue between artist and medium, between memory and form is what gives the work its textured, layered energy. It doesn't attempt to arrive at a single message. Instead, it allows space for wandering, for pausing, for unknowing. A moment that perfectly captured this openness occurred during a walkabout of the exhibition. As I stood in the gallery space, someone suddenly pointed out a shongololo, a curled-up centipede resting on one of the artworks. At first, we thought it might have been intentional. It looked so at home there, as though it had been stitched into the piece. We soon realised it had probably fallen through a hole in the gallery roof, landing perfectly in place. The moment was strangely poetic, a reminder that even nature responds to the invitation in Maleke's work. When I shared this with her, she was moved. 'That's so beautiful,' she said. 'Nature definitely plays a role in my design decisions. A lot of the shapes I use are drawn from organic movement, like curves and spirals. 'I want the structures to feel effortless, like they grew into place.' Indeed, those physical structures that hold the large stitched drawings emerge from collaborative processes with other makers. There were no preliminary sketches. 'I worked with Daniel, a collaborator I've worked with before. We used instructions and prompts, rather than plans. The legs of the structures, for example, came from something he had already been exploring. The process was intuitive and shared.' The drawings themselves are monumental in scale, two 20-metre pieces joined seamlessly, but they were built slowly, piece by piece. 'The whole drawing took about two months,' Maleke said. 'And it was made with the help of an assistant. It was laborious, but meaningful. Every part of it was built from the centre outward.' Despite their scale, the works never feel overwhelming. They hold a softness, a kind of invitation to lean in. That same spirit extended into one of the most beloved parts of the show: an interactive room where visitors were invited to make things with the same materials Maleke uses. 'I wanted to offer people a sense of what it feels like to be in my studio,' she said. 'There's often a gap between the artist and the viewer — this wall of misunderstanding or miscommunication. The interactive space was a way of dissolving that. I wanted people to feel free to play, to contribute, to be part of the conversation.' The result was deeply human. People stitched, folded, marked. In a world that often demands perfection or performance, Maleke had created a space where everyone could simply make. 'I'm interested in how people can have their own 'each one, teach one' moments,' she explained. 'I'm not having this conversation alone. The work is about shared learning. Shared imagination.' This emphasis on learning, particularly learning that's embodied and intuitive, runs throughout her practice. 'I treat drawing as a kind of writing. It's how I process space. It's how I navigate memory. It's how I deal with public environments and personal history. Even when I'm not drawing something recognisable, I'm still writing with materials.' And sometimes, when language fails, the materials speak: 'There are times when I can't find the right words,' she reflected, 'and in those moments, I let the materials communicate for me. It's a very tactile, very emotional conversation.' There's vulnerability in that but also a deep sense of care. Her drawings are not illustrations. They are meditations. And central to them is the idea of community, of holding and being held. It's that kind of intentionality that resonates with Standard Bank, long-time supporters of the arts and the festival. Maleke is one of this year's Standard Bank Young Artists for visual arts — a title that carries not just prestige but deep structural support. As Yolisa Koza, head of brand experience, puts it: 'When we look back at the 180-plus artists who've received the Standard Bank Young Artist Award, many are now internationally recognised. That in itself is a massive indicator of success. 'Supporting artists like Nyakallo at this pivotal stage in their careers isn't just about sponsorship — it's about shaping a future where the arts remain central to how we tell our stories and imagine our world.' As our conversation drew to a close, I asked Maleke what she hopes people take away from experiencing this work — especially as it prepares to travel to Joburg. 'I hope it offers a sense of joy. Even if just for a moment. I hope it allows people to feel free to experience something nourishing for the soul. Because that's what the process was for me — it was joyful, fulfilling, meditative.' With a gentle laugh, she added, 'And my name means joy. So, I try to carry that into everything I do.' When so much art is consumed fast, documented for social media and discarded just as fast, To Teach in Ways That Teach Us to Take Care of the Soul reminds us to slow down. To make. To feel. To remember. As Maleke continues to evolve her practice, what remains constant is her commitment to drawing, not just as mark-making, but as meaning-making. Her work reminds us that care is a creative act and joy, too, can be revolutionary.
The Hindu
03-07-2025
- Politics
- The Hindu
Diminishing the idea of a university
While speaking of the idea of a university, one actually speaks of an 'ideal', that is, what a university is expected to be doing to justify its own existence as a university. As John Henry Newman, a 19th century British academic, argued, a university is the place where a certain type of valuable activity is supposed to be happening. It is the place where meaningful and productive exploration of ideas is expected to take place, where truth is sought and where critical imagination is deployed to engage with issues that confront society (which can be taken as a valuable activity). At a fundamental level, the essential duty of a university is to search for the 'truth', however unpalatable it may be. If a university is simply busy trying to follow the dominant narratives prevalent in society uncritically and unreflexively, it will necessarily lose sight of what it is supposed to look for — the truth. One of the most important things a university is supposed to promote is critical imagination, an ability to raise questions, however, unpalatable they may be, to the powerful and hegemonic sections of society. This will involve resisting the 'banking concept of education', in the language of Paulo Freire, a Brazilian educator and philosopher. What this means is that a university is not like a bank where people go and deposit money and it simply accepts that. He argued that the basic aim of education should be to 'conscientise the conscience' of those who are receiving education, not merely fill their minds with information which they are expected to receive uncritically. A university is the place where every idea or perspective is interrogated and accepted only when it stands the test of reason and criticality. Critical engagement with ideas is the basis of a healthy education. The question which comes to mind is whether or not universities are really encouraging their students and teachers to express themselves freely without any hindrance, and critical thinking is actively promoted. In the absence of an enabling environment, pursuing critical engagement with ideas will be difficult. In this context, there are a couple of things which need closer attention, though there are a few others such as a severe shortage of funds and dilution of autonomy in the name of ill-defined accountability, which are equally important but need to be dealt with separately. Rising intolerance First, there is an increasing intolerance of oppositional ideas and positions, which appears to be a global phenomenon now. When university teachers can be arrested on the basis of gross misinterpretation of what they say or write and when universities (Harvard, for example) are being penalised for taking a position in favour of those who are subjected to systematic and methodical elimination (Palestine), it is time to think what we are doing to universities. It must be remembered that any damage to the health of universities will cause irreparable damage to the health of societies in the long run. Any stifling and criminalisation of dissent on the campuses will produce universities which are conformist and afraid of expressing their point of view which will only stunt growth and development of society. Ideally, universities are spaces where contending viewpoints are advanced and allowed to contest one another. But what one is seeing on the university campuses is the shrinkage of those spaces because of fear of repercussions. Fear is increasingly being weaponised against oppositional positions and ideas. Critical enquiry is being vilified as an act of subversion. A university is supposed to be the home of 'public intellectuals', who pursue not only their academic engagements seriously but also reflect, speak and write on issues which concern all especially the marginalised and weaker sections of society such as minorities, Dalits and women. Public intellectuals are expected to take an unequivocal and uncompromising position in favour of fundamental values of dignified social existence such as freedom, equality and justice and certainly they need to speak up against injustice and discrimination. It is indeed a matter of serious reflection whether universities as they are today are able to produce such public intellectuals or not. There is a strong need to reimagine universities as spaces of articulation of dissent and critical point of view on public issues which concern all of us. Confining oneself to one's own disciplinary concerns and not reflecting on issues which concern society at large will reduce university spaces to those of ivory towers, not organically related to the societal issues. Commodification of education The increasing commodification of education, which is another factor, is severely impacting the critical quality of higher education. Higher education is seen as a commodity to be bought and sold on the market. What this means is that education is no longer pursued for its own sake, for a playful and meaningful engagement with ideas. What is happening on an increasing scale is that the use value of education, or knowledge for the sake of greater understanding of the reality around us, is being replaced by the exchange value, or how much income one can generate from the qualification. Clearly, the market has become a great determinant of which degree is desirable and which is not. A serious implication of this is that it has made education an unreflective and unreflexive activity. Critical engagement with ideas is discouraged and in fact is considered irrelevant. One of the offshoots of increasing commodification of education is the growing clamour to figure at the top in any system of ranking of universities. This ignores the fact that any system of ranking only contributes further to the commodification of education (a degree from a certain university or institute is a must for getting a good job) and tends to adopt homogenising (one size fits all) and hegemonising (publications in journals located within the West almost become mandatory) criteria. Of course, it goes without saying that the growing commodification of education is closely aligned with neoliberal reforms. Educational reforms that are being attempted today are such that they correspond to the desired changes in the economic regime thus ably functioning as an effective 'ideological state apparatus', to use an expression from Louis Althusser, who was a French Marxist philosopher. If universities are not to become irrelevant, it is critically important that they become spaces of reason, debate, free enquiry and a playful engagement with ideas instead of contributing to the growing commodification of education. (Professor D.V. Kumar teaches Sociology at the Department of Sociology, North-Eastern Hill University, Shillong. Views are personal)
Observer
29-05-2025
- General
- Observer
A reflection on value, work and dignity
It is hard to live without a piece of bread. How can one feed a family? How can a future be built without a salary? These are not just questions; they are cries of millions who wake up each day trapped in a cycle where survival takes precedence over dreams. In a quiet café on the edge of a bustling city, a conversation unfolded that left a lasting impression. A young graduate, full of hope yet weighed by despair, turned to his friend and said, "They offered me RO 400. I asked myself, is that what I'm worth?" His friend sighed. "That's all they give to every starter. You should take it." Here lies the tragedy of our times, not in the number, but in the belief that worth should be defined by what is offered, not by what is brought to the table. This is not a suggestion to reject jobs, nor a promotion of idleness or detached idealism. What must be advocated is simple but powerful: Never let others define your value. If an individual does not set his price, someone else will often set it far below what is deserved. The prevailing system, corporate, capitalist, profit-driven, demands energy, creativity, time, and soul. And in return? It gives just enough to survive, never to thrive. Noam Chomsky once remarked, "The smart way to keep people passive and obedient is to strictly limit the spectrum of acceptable opinion." Today, that limitation extends to self-worth. Society has taught acceptance without questioning. But one must pause. Reflect. If an offer is RO 400, how much value is actually being generated for the organisation? In many cases, an employee's ideas, execution, and presence generate five, ten, or even 20 times more than their compensation. Paulo Freire in Pedagogy of the Oppressed argued that the greatest form of oppression is making people believe that their suffering is natural. That earning a low wage is just part of the process. That struggling is noble. But struggling without justice is not noble, it is exploitation. There is a story worth sharing. Years ago, a young professional entered the job market with optimism and readiness to serve. An offer came, one that was far below what his qualifications and potential warranted. Still, it was accepted under the belief, "At least it's a start." That individual worked tirelessly, produced results, and brought innovation. Yet the promotion never came. The salary hike never happened. Until a mentor once said, "If you price yourself cheap, don't expect the world to increase your rate." That sentence was transformative. To those reading this, especially those wondering if it's acceptable to say no to an underwhelming offer, know this: it is more than okay. It is right. Each person must calculate his rent, food and future. Ask: Can this salary support a family? Can peace be found knowing one is underpaid? No individual was born to be a number on a payroll sheet. Every person is of potential and excellence. Walt Whitman once wrote, "I am large, I contain multitudes." Each human holds multitudes within. Never let a paycheque shrink the spirit. The corporate world may not change overnight. But individual stories can. Change begins with one choice. One decision. One moment of courage to declare: I am worth more. Let this message echo. Let the world be reminded of human values, not with arrogance, but with clarity and courage. And perhaps, others will follow. A movement may begin. A system may evolve, not just for today, but for all the generations yet to come. Value must be honoured. Dignity must be priced right. And no one should ever settle for less than they truly deserve. Mohammed Anwar Al Balushi The writer works for Middle East College
Observer
22-05-2025
- Politics
- Observer
Building and re-building nations...
Rome was not built in a day. This age-old proverb contains a timeless truth that nations, like grand cities and civilisations, are not born overnight. They are crafted over generations through vision, struggle, learning, and collective will. Central to this process is education the engine that drives the rise, resilience, and renaissance of nations. Nation-building is not simply about constructing infrastructure, drafting constitutions, or marking territorial boundaries. It is about cultivating a sense of identity, purpose, and shared values among people. It is the creation of strong institutions and the empowerment of citizens who think critically, act ethically, and contribute meaningfully. And education is the single most powerful tool in this noble endeavour. Throughout history, societies that prioritised education laid the strongest foundations for their national development. Plato, in his famous work The Republic, envisioned an ideal state governed by philosopher-kings, leaders shaped by decades of moral and intellectual education. Centuries later, thinkers like Paulo Freire and Amartya Sen reinforced this principle. Freire believed that education must awaken critical consciousness and liberate minds from passive acceptance. Sen, a Nobel laureate, argued that education expands human freedom, not just economic utility. It gives individuals the capacity to live with dignity, to participate in shaping society, and to pursue their own aspirations. Examples from the modern world are abundant. After the devastation of World War II, Germany and Japan rose from the ashes through widespread educational reforms. Germany introduced civic education programmes to reframe national identity and promote democratic values, while Japan focused on universal access, innovation, and moral education. Both nations used schools not just to teach but to heal. Similarly, South Korea, once a war-torn country, turned to education as the primary path to development. It invested heavily in literacy, teacher training, and research, resulting in one of the world's most advanced economies within a generation. The type of education provided is just as important as its accessibility. A curriculum designed solely to produce workers will not build a nation. Education must be holistic, one that nurtures not just knowledge, but empathy, courage, creativity, and character. It must teach students to ask questions, to embrace diversity, and to participate in civic life. It must encourage them not just to make a living, but to make a difference. Who delivers education matters greatly. Teachers are the unsung architects of nation-building. Yet in many countries, they remain undervalued and underpaid. The quality of a nation's teachers directly impacts the quality of its citizens. Investment in teacher training, academic freedom, and innovative pedagogy is a long-term investment in national resilience. As Nelson Mandela once said, 'Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.' Mandela understood that rebuilding South Africa after apartheid would require not just legal and political change, but a transformation of hearts and minds a task entrusted to education. When nations face collapse from war, colonisation, or economic crisis, education becomes the path to rebirth. Rwanda's post-genocide recovery, for instance, included a strong emphasis on peace education and unity-building programmes in schools. In post-independence India, leaders like Jawaharlal Nehru and Maulana Azad saw education as the central force in building a democratic, scientific, and secular nation. They established institutions of higher learning and encouraged scientific temper and critical thinking as tools for national integration. In today's globalised world, the challenges facing nations, climate change, inequality, extremism require a new generation of citizens who think globally and act locally. Civic education, ethics, environmental awareness, and leadership must be woven into the learning process. Countries like Finland and Singapore have embedded these values into their education systems with measurable success. Their students are not only knowledgeable but socially responsible and nationally committed. Ultimately, nation-building begins within the hearts and minds of its people. The transformation of a country is not just through policies and projects but through people who embody the values of justice, compassion, and wisdom. Education is what awakens this potential. It builds character, confidence, and community. It transforms passive subjects into active citizens. To build or rebuild a nation, one must begin with the minds of the young. The blackboard is stronger than the battlefield. The pen holds more promise than the sword. A society that sows education will harvest peace, prosperity and progress.
