Geetanjali Krishna: What open learning teaches us

I met Sagar after a long time the other day. Last year, when he performed poorly in his class 12 board examinations, I'd helped him look for the best courses he could opt for after school. At that time, given that he had barely secured pass marks, I'd suggested to him that his best bet was to enroll in either a vocational course, or for a Bachelor of Arts through Delhi University's School of Open Learning. He wanted to study hotel management but the fees charged by private institutes were too high for his lower middle-class parents to afford. Eventually, he'd enrolled in the open learning course, hoping to pick up some vocational skills on the side. Several months had passed since then, and I was curious to find out how he'd been getting along.

"It's not bad," he said, avoiding eye contact in the way adolescent boys are wont to do. "They give us printed material and access to a library. Also, there's a study centre and online coaching in case someone's interested." It seemed as if there was a big 'but' hanging at the end of his sentence, so I asked if something was troubling him.

"All my friends who are enrolled in college or in vocational centres have someplace to go to everyday," he said. "By the time I wake up, my sister has left for school and my parents for work. There is nothing to do." He just hadn't realised how boring open education could be, he complained. The lack of routine seemed to have paralysed him quite alarmingly. "I've not even opened my printed course material," he said. "I've no idea what it contains. My parents keep telling me to at least read something, but I just don't feel motivated."

In many ways, distance learning in a country like India makes education accessible to a much wider range of students, many of whom lack the means to pursue higher education through the regular streams. However, Sagar's experience showed me how important social interactions are, for the very experience of education. Also, for students who are not too academically inclined, this mode of education probably lacks the motivational value of a classroom setting.

Chatting with Sagar, I felt uneasy to see how little mental stimulation the 18-year-old was receiving at this crucial juncture of his life. He could take up a job, I suggested. "That way, you will remain busy through the day while doing your course," I said. "My father says the same thing, but I don't think I'll land a decent job because of the lack of required qualifications. Some older friends have promised to teach me driving; I could then get a licence and a job as a chauffeur, which would give me time to study," he said. Also, he pointed out, if he started earning a decent salary somehow, he'd never feel like studying. "I'm spending my days learning computers at a local institute. Now I can surf the net on the computer instead of on my phone!" he said proudly. What about his examinations? I asked. Did he not worry that he would probably fail if he didn't study at all? "Oh, I've found a teacher who will give me a crash course in all my subjects for 15 days right before the exams," he said airily. "All I have to do is pass somehow…"

For people like Sagar, the concept of open learning has certainly made education more accessible, but in the process, it has also leached out its inherent value. "What's the use of doing such a course then?" I asked him. Sagar grinned: "Of course, it is useful! If I manage to pass, I'll actually be a graduate!"