Monsoon Semester 10: Classrooms That Heal
English

The rains are thinning.
And the mid-semester feedback is in.
Arjun asked his class to be honest.
Two hundred and twelve of them were.
'Sir clearly knows his subject.' ... Nice.
'Sir's handwriting is a
separate course.' ... Fair.
'Sir, please stop saying trivially.' ...
I don't say trivially.
I say trivially.
'I am scared to ask
anything in his class.'
Okay. Next semester, this course changes.
Scared to ask. In my class, ma'am.
I thought I was being rigorous.
Let me show you something
I don't show at interviews.
Why would anyone write this down?
Because my other CV only
tells half the story.
You failed your PhD qualifier?
First attempt. I cried in
the library for an hour.
Then I booked the second attempt.
Thirty-one rejected papers?
Thirty-two. I haven't
updated it since Tuesday.
And a grant that never came.
That one, I still think about.
The day I failed that exam, I was sure
everyone else had passed first time.
Years later I found out
half of them hadn't.
Nobody had said a word.
Students only see our successes, Arjun.
So when they struggle, they
decide they don't belong here.
Keep your standards high.
Just tell them you believe
they can meet them.
Out loud. In writing.
One. A new feedback template.
What works, what to fix,
and one line at the top.
Two. One extension per student.
No questions asked.
They'll explain anyway.
At length.
Then I'll listen. Briefly.
Three. Every deadline for the
semester, published on day one.
No surprises.
Four. A line in the
syllabus about well-being.
Who to talk to. And that
it's normal to need to.
Name the Wellness Centre.
Properly.
Already did.
Strict isn't the same as rigorous, is it?
Took me ten years to learn that.
You did it in one semester.
Show-off.
And tell them a story now and then.
Not about your successes.
My failures are very short stories.
Then borrow someone else's.
Green ink? Since when does
Arjun sir use green ink?
Since this week, I think.
Didi, read the last line.
'I'm giving you these comments because
I have high standards and I know you can
meet them.'
Kabir. That's a good comment.
Frame it.
Didi, it also says my code is wrong.
It says your code is wrong.
Not you. That's the best kind.
Before recursion, a story.
A young man wants to
fly for the Air Force.
He tries to become a pilot.
He misses selection.
His name? APJ Abdul Kalam.
Another young man loses his college
scholarship, because he failed subjects
other than mathematics.
Srinivasa Ramanujan.
So if last week's quiz went badly,
you're in excellent company.
Every lecture this month
starts with a story like that.
Not the genius. The part before.
Next week, one of mine.
Right. Recursion. A function that calls
itself, until it reaches a base case.
Yes... Kabir?
Sir, ek doubt. If it never
reaches the base case...
then what happens?
It keeps calling itself until
the computer runs out of memory.
We call that a stack overflow.
Good question. Write that down, everyone.
Kabir just saved half of
you from next week's bug.
There's evidence behind Arjun's changes.
Feedback that pairs high standards
with belief in the student changes what
students do.
In one US experiment, students
got critical comments on an essay.
Some also got a note: their teacher
had high standards, and believed they
could meet them.
Among Black students who got an ordinary
note, seventeen percent revised their
essay. Among those who got this
note, seventy-one percent did.
In another study, stories of scientists'
struggles lifted high-school students'
science grades more than
stories of their achievements.
Not what they achieved.
What they struggled through.
And the economist Johannes Haushofer,
while at Princeton, made his own
CV of failures public.
It shows that setbacks are
normal, even at the top.
Kamala's is shorter.
She's working on it.
Kabir! Light on. It's getting dark.
Yes, Anna!
Ma... today I asked a question. In class.
Sach? Kya poocha, beta?
About recursion. You won't understand, Ma.
Arre, explain kar na.
Main samajh jaungi.
... Pehle bata, khana khaya?
Haan, Ma! Okay. So.
Imagine a function...
Kabir asked a question today.
His first?
His first. I nearly dropped the marker.
Did you make a fuss?
I said 'good question'
and wrote it on the board.
Very calm. Inside, fireworks.
And have you told them one
of your own failures yet?
Or only Ramanujan's?
I started mine last night.
Only two lines? Arjun,
you're barely trying.
Give me a semester.
Try this week: tell your class the
story of one of your own academic
failures.
And here is a phrase to keep.
I'm giving you these comments because I
have high standards and I know you can
meet them.
Support details and sources
are below this video.
See you in week eleven.