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The Modern Story Fellowship

Aug, 26

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Daily Updates, Reflections, The Modern Story Fellowship

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The Day That Hyderabad Stood Still

Ask any of us fellows to describe Hyderabad, and inevitably one of the adjectives will be “chaotic.” Hyderabad is notorious even among Indians for its complete lack of traffic etiquette, in which everyone from the pedestrians to busses to cows thinks they have complete jurisdiction over the road. Walking, biking, and driving as though everyone should get out of your way is not a choice, but the only means to survive in the gnarly traffic congestion. Aside from the traffic, the city’s diverse population offers different languages, religions, and cuisine on every corner. In our schools, cramped classrooms, and constant festival interruptions can also foster a sense of chaos while teaching. Combined, it is a lot for the brain to handle, but rest assured it is never boring. Which is why we have all come to love it.

But that all changed for one day this week. On Tuesday, Rachel and I decided to run an errand. We had class off due to a government-mandated holiday, but different holidays and festivals pop up quite often so we didn’t think much of it. Then we actually walked outside.

Our normally bustling street was entirely deserted. Not a single auto, car, motorbike, or even a stray dog in sight. There were one or two people walking silently, alone, down the block and a man at a nearby samosa stand quietly frying his snacks, but that was it—Hyderabad had shut down. As we walked to the main road, the silence and lack of traffic persisted, and became almost creepy. We made it to the main four-lane road that usually teems with traffic, but on Tuesday we could have walked down the middle of the avenue safely for miles. We quickly realized the errand wasn’t going to happen.

The reason for this shut down was a massive survey of Telangana. It was sort of like a census, but with more economic implications—government workers asked for things like bank account numbers and property owned. It was both to take measure of how many people qualified for welfare programs, but also to fully understand who makes up the state of Telangana and what they need. For the newest state in India, taking note of these statistics will be key to making the state successful in the future.

But in the meantime, students and teachers are especially feeling the growing pains. One of my principals said he feels the current group of students may become a “lost generation” as their schooling may end up riddled with assessments and surveys to better understand how to improve Telangana’s literacy rates and school systems. As Andhra Pradesh and Telangana grapple with dividing electricity between two separate states, frequent power cuts darken classrooms and cut into any digital learning efforts. Teachers are also being tasked with many of these extra efforts. While Rachel and I were able to at least go home and continue lesson planning, teachers at both my schools were appointed to conduct the survey because they are government workers. This meant taking precious days off to knock on citizens’ doors and ensure they had given their information to the government.

Though these steps are necessary for the greater good of the state and students and India, it made me think about how we ensure students learn, even while we search for solutions to education’s issues.

Here in India, being as consistent as possible has been key. Even though the last month has been riddled with holidays, interruptions, and festivals, whenever we show up to class students seem increasingly confident that we aren’t going to let their sometimes helter-skelter schedules get in the way of making films. Talking about it is good too—both with teachers and students. Teachers appreciate a well-deserved sympathetic ear and students are eager to talk about their festival celebrations. Other than that, the basics of being a good teacher apply: be as enthusiastic as possible, encourage thoughts outside of class, convince the students to be as hungry for TMS class as possible—a task not too difficult given they get to take photos and videos most days. Even after a two-week break from Railway Girl’s School due to holidays and an Independence Day celebration, I was so impressed that students jumped right back into their project without missing a beat.

I also think this has implications in the United States, where education reform is a divisive topic. Right now public education is being tested, prodded, and examined from every possible angle by activists, politicians, and business owners. Think about the methods we are trying out as solutions: Common Core, charter schools, Teach for America. Will they work? Many are gambling students’ only education in hopes that these programs make a difference.  Who’s to say we may look back one day at kids who are currently in class and call them the “lost generation” of students in the US?

It used to be that thinking about the attempted solutions in the US gave me more worry than hope. I still remain skeptical about most solutions, especially when they come from business-backed initiatives or claim to solve the problems of underserved districts by closing public schools. But being an educator has actually given me faith in one area of education: teachers. If teachers can create a sense of excitement passion and about learning that extends beyond the classroom, students will thrive even if a charter school ends up shutting down or assessments don’t provide conclusive results.

I’m still getting to that point in my own teaching, but I do feel that TMS has curriculum and projects that bring out intrinsic motivation that can carry with students for the rest of their lives. Critical thinking, creativity, and the ability to visually convey ideas far outlast any power cut or missed class. The key anywhere in the world, to me it seems, is supporting teachers that bring that out in their students, regardless of the policy solution of the day.

Aug, 18

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Reflections, The Modern Story Fellowship, TMS Fellow Updates

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The Moving Bus

Getting around in Hyderabad is always an adventure. From crossing 8 lanes of full-speed traffic to colliding with a motorbike during a late-night auto rickshaw ride, getting from point A to point B often includes moments of mingled terror and excitement. The bus, our most frequently-used form of transportation, is by far the most unpredictable. Sometimes it’s so crowded that you miss your stop because you can’t squeeze your way out. Sometimes a fight breaks out because a man refuses to give up his seat in the section of the bus reserved for women. And very often, people jump into the open doors of moving buses. Recently, I decided to mimic this last behavior. I was headed to class, almost but not quite at the bus stop when I saw the 8A, my ride to school, begin to pull away. In the few seconds of sprinting to close the distance between us, I psyched myself up to do something I had seen so many others before me accomplish. I leapt onto the bus, just barely making it onto the step. My body slammed against the side of the bus and I gripped the railing for dear life. When I finally managed to pull myself inside, I was met with a mix of shocked, confused and concerned faces. But along with a wave of embarrassment and a badly bruised leg came another important lesson about life in India: things won’t always stop for you. Sometimes you just have to jump in.

This is definitely a lesson I’ve had to put into practice in the classroom. Holidays and a collection of unexpected hurdles have made working on schedule for our first project a challenge. But time doesn’t stop to give me another 20 minutes to talk about point of view or another week to get to know my students before I ask them to photograph their hopes, worries and desires. As a class, we’ve had to jump onto this bus already in motion. But unlike the gasps, chuckles, and stares that greeted me on the 8A, our big jump has produced two projects I can’t wait to share, and a level of trust between myself and the students I could not have imagined to find so early.

This new ease with jumping carried beautifully into our plans for this past weekend. The majority of my travel experiences have taken months of planning and preparation. But in this life of objects already in motion, deciding on Sunday to go to Mumbai on Wednesday  seemed perfectly reasonable. And though the overnight bus did stop to allow me, Karis and Dara to climb on safely, the experience still required a leap. The decision to jump is always rewarded, whether by a weekend full of memories, a productive and supportive classroom, or a fun story and battle scar. In all cases, I’m glad I managed to coax my feet off the ground.

Jul, 27

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Daily Updates, Project Tracks, Reflections, The Modern Story Fellowship

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Packing “jugaad” in our toolbox

They said it takes about three weeks before you feel comfortable in front of a class, comfortable with the language barriers, surprise holidays, and commuting confusion.

Well we’re about three weeks in, and I’m happy to say that I, along with my fellows, have started to become comfortable with the uncomfortable.

Classes have been cut in attendance and size due to holidays and festivals that have dotted nearly every weekend of this month (particularly in Hyderabad, as the sizeable Muslim population has been celebrating Ramadan). Miscommunication with school administrators led to some classroom snafus. The language barrier has led to many an altered lesson plan, finding ways to communicate with students who have so much enthusiasm but without a verbal way to convey all their ideas.

But part of the beauty of these moments, while infuriating, has taught us the importance of thinking on our feet, and embracing “jugaad.” Jugaad is a Hindi phrase that Piya and Remy taught us when we first went though training. Roughly, it translates to “an innovative fix or a simple work-around” and is used to signify applying creativity to make something simple work. I’ve found that this is something learned best by experience, and the last few weeks have offered experience by the ton.

Then, when something finally works, the reward is that much more gratifying.

For example, in our Railway class last week, Nandini and I spent two classes devoted to audio recording and photography. The tasks were simple (record a sentence about something you like to taste, smell, touch, hear, or see, and take a photo of the drawing that represents the student’s sentence), but it didn’t entirely go as planned. Many students were thrilled for the chance to use the equipment, but struggled to record audio without cutting off their sentence and not burst into giggles, or take a satisfactory (in their minds) photo. Regardless, all the students completed the task, and Nandini and I put together a short video that combined all their recordings and photos into one video montage that showed off all the things that Railway Girls like to taste, smell, touch, hear, and see (ranging from smelling lotus flowers to seeing new words –see below). When we brought the finished project into the class to show the students, they watched it over and over, grinning with pride at their work and brimming with ideas about how to make it better. All were filled with a newfound confidence on the equipment. It was a good reminder that even if it feels like your creative solutions do not work, these little efforts pay off in the end.

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Outside of class jugaad has also come in handy. From realizing that Uber is much less likely to overcharge you than an auto driver to Rachel’s impressive creations on our one-and-a-half burner stove, adjusting has just become a part of everyday life. And going with the flow has led us to meeting some wonderful new friends and exploring Hyderabad. Below, you can see one of our adventures, a trip to the Bonalu festival in Secunderbad.

From here we move onto our classes’ first project: photo essays. No doubt it will bring little challenges, but at least we have jugaad in our toolbox.

Jul, 20

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Classroom News, Reflections, The Modern Story Fellowship, TMS Fellow Updates

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The One and a Half Burner Cook

I love to cook. In college when I moved off campus into my first apartment, complete with four burners and a nice sized oven, I blossomed. So when I read that TMS fellows often cook for themselves I thought, “No problem.” Arriving in Hyderabad, however, my confidence deflated. In place of four burners and an oven, I have two burners, one of them less than consistent in its functioning, with an intimidatingly complex lighting system that feels vaguely like setting off a bomb. Needless to say, we spent our first few days here living off Maggi Noodles (the Indian equivalent of Ramen) and toast. But finally, once we got a little more settled in, we set out to make dal, a staple Indian dish of lentils and spices. Though far from perfect, our first real meal sent a message. In the sizzling of garlic and ginger, in the high-pitched whistle of the pressure cooker, I heard the words, “You can do this.” From there, I bookmarked a list of recipes to try out and quickly became what Karis has coined The One and a Half Burner Cook. After learning to work with the appliances and ingredients available to me, I can say I’ve made some things I’m genuinely proud of.

Stepping into my classrooms on the first day felt a lot like my first time stepping into the kitchen. At West Marredpally, I found out about two thirds of the way into class that the majority of the girls there had gone through the TMS program last year. So I’ll be starting over with an entirely new group of students this week. And when I showed up for my first day at Hill Street, fresh off the West Marredpally confusion and ready for something to go right, I was notified that the class time we had agreed upon would no longer work. After 45 minutes of discussion and compromise, however, we reached a consensus that the original time would work after all. So I used the remaining time to teach a very compressed and somewhat frazzled version of the lesson I had prepared. No four burners here. No nice sized oven. Just like in the kitchen, I’m learning in the classroom to make the most of what’s available to me. I’m sure somewhere in the clap of the chalk eraser, or a student’s voice calling “teacher,” I’ll hear those same words, “You can do this.” And just like the garlic butter pasta, spiced cauliflower, masala potatoes, and turmeric chicken pictured in this entry, I’m sure West Marredpally and Hill Street will end up with creations the students and I can all be proud of.

Jul, 13

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Daily Updates, Reflections, The Modern Story Fellowship, TMS Fellow Updates

The Beginning

This week met the first of many milestones. First, was the end of our training period. Piya and Remy took us out for an outrageously delicious Farewell-and-You-Survived-Training Dinner and then dropped us off at our apartment where we said our goodbyes. The Fellows all agreed that the feeling reminded us of when our parents dropped us off at university for the first time. We were, somehow, on our own.

The beginning of the week was spent rickshawing acrossed Hyderabad to visit our schools. We survived our first week in India, and now we were to begin our navigation into the government school system, and into teaching. Each of us had to meet with our respective headmasters and teaching assistants, and also to finalize the class schedule.

By Wednesday all of our schedules for the next six months had been finalized. Between the four Fellows, we each have two schools where we will be teaching. Additionally, all of us are teaming up with one other Fellow to teach at The Railway Girls School.

This marked another important milestone; our first class. Rachel and I were paired up to teach at Railway, and spent all of Wednesday scripting our lesson plan for our first class on Thursday. We spent a lot of time thinking about important teachers in our life. What makes a good teacher? Which activities will be the most effective? How can we create a classroom environment that is fun and welcoming, but also one that will create equal learning opportunities for all students? How can we be liked, but respected?

Luckily, the Railway girls were welcoming, attentive, and ready to learn. We spent the first two days of class doing icebreakers, learning names, and preparing to dive deeper into the art of digital storytelling. The girls were just as excited as we were, and I can tell that we are going to have a great semester with them! Here are two pictures that we took to commemorate the first day of class!

TMS Fellow Dara and the girls from Railway pose for a picture on the first day of class.     Rachel and the Railway girls on the first day of class.

 

Jul, 7

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Daily Updates, Reflections, The Modern Story Fellowship

Finally, in Hyderabad.

Greetings from India! Even as I sit here now, inside the fellows’ apartment in Hyderabad, there is an element of disbelief that I made it here at all. Amongst our daily activities which has included training, school visits, and searching for the best local coffees and delicacies, every once in awhile when I step back I think to myself: “Wow, I can’t believe that I am actually here.”

Two weeks ago I was stuck in West Africa without my passport. When I found out that I would be joining The Modern Story in India I began the visa process from abroad, which required me to send my passport and visa application from Ghana back to the United States. Generally this process, applying for the visa by mail, should take about ten working days in total. But due to the switching of visa outsourcing companies and the huge backlogs of applications as a result of the switchover, my application (and passport!) was held hostage for nearly two months.

Between the frantic emails to Piya and Remy about the unknown status of my application (and thus, actual arrival date in India), and my emotionally draining more-than-three-times daily calls to The Big Bad Visa Outsourcing Company, my stress and anxiety levels skyrocketed. All of this while also being alone abroad in Ghana. I felt like a stateless person; unable to go, and unable to leave.

On June 27th I finally got word that they had processed my application and everything moved very quickly from there. I had a good friend of mine get my passport in New York and ship it to me in Ghana. And three days later I booked another ticket to Hyderabad, picked up my passport in Kumasi on Wednesday morning, and traveled straight down to Accra, where I left Ghana the next morning. After I boarded the plane in Accra, I had no more worries. I was finally on my way.

I arrived in Hyderabad on Friday morning. Remy picked me up, we dropped off my bags at the apartment, and we went straight to Railway Girls School. Even though I was pretty exhausted from the journey (I couldn’t sleep on the planes!), I was so happy to finally meet Piya and Remy, and of course my new co-Fellows!

Even now, as I sit here at 3 o’clock in the morning, unable to sleep from jet lag and the migraine I had this afternoon, I can’t help but think about how lucky I am to have finally made it here. I am so happy to be here in Hyderabad and to be connecting with my co-Fellows, and to share this journey with friends, family, and other followers. Until next time!

7
Jul

3

Reflections, The Modern Story Fellowship, TMS Fellow Updates

That Big Red Bag with the Brown Ribbon: My Fresh Start in Hyderabad

What is a fresh start? If I were to explain it, I’d say moving across the world one week after graduating from college is a pretty solid example. But in my first few days in Hyderabad, I found that even in this time of transition, and in this unfamiliar place, I had been holding myself back from the beauty and value that can be found in the start of something.

This lesson came to me in the disappearance of one red suitcase, distinguished by a brown ribbon on the handle and full to bursting with every comfort I could fit within range of the 50lb weight limit. Long story short, a fellow traveler mistakenly took my bag at the Mumbai airport, leaving an identical bag- save for its thinner size and lack of ribbon- in its place, and leaving me without the belongings I’d packed for my time here.

What’s incredible is that this mixup has actually turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Spending my first week in Hyderabad without the suitcase full of items I’d curated to make myself feel as at home as possible really forced me to immerse myself in the city more than I would have otherwise. And it wasn’t long after buying my first few pairs of loose, patterned pants and trying out coconut oil as a substitute for the hair products I’m used to that other areas where I’d had the urge to skip the starting stage began to present themselves. I wanted to bypass the point of building initial connections with my co-fellows and get to the part where we all feel like we deeply know each other. I wanted to slide past feelings of unfamiliarity with the city and get to a place where I’d know where to go, how to get there, and whether the auto rickshaw driver was trying to overcharge me for the ride. I wanted to avoid the the nervousness of speaking in front of the students and feel like a pro in the classroom. But I’ve come to see that acclimating to a new place, a new job, a new community, is a lot like Monopoly. If you don’t pass GO, you don’t collect $200. Skipping the scary or uncomfortable stages of a new beginning means missing out on what comes along with them. Even if that means getting lost in a new neighborhood or getting a few butterflies in the stomach in front of the class, it’s worth it to commit to the fresh start. Because that’s where learning happens.

To give an update, the airline has found my suitcase and it’s currently on its way to me. (When it will get here, no one knows. That’s another lesson about India for another time.) And though I’m definitely excited to be reunited with my contact lenses and granola bars, I’m grateful I had to spend my first week in India without that big red bag with the brown ribbon.

Jul, 7

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Reflections, The Modern Story Fellowship, TMS Fellow Updates

Hello from Hyderabad!

Already I have found a hobby: active instagramming! Follow @themodernstory for more!

Already I have found a daily hobby: instagramming! Follow @themodernstory for more!

Hello! Karis here. I write this from our living room table, sweating in the 80-degree heat (though it is well into the night), and mind buzzing with the events of the last week.

I had an uneventful (even – dare I say it – pleasant!) trip to Hyderabad. My 15-hour flight from Chicago to Abu Dhabi was mostly filled with sleep and catching up on movies. I was bumped to business class from Abu Dhabi to Hyderabad. Though my second flight was slightly delayed, Remy also ran into a delay (in which the cab driver ran out of gas on the highway and they had to push the car to a gas station in order to get it running again), so we met at the international arrival gate at the same time. Despite visa, luggage, and flight anxiety, it all worked out quite smoothly. I am very thankful, and also hoping this doesn’t mean my luck will turn and my next flight will be a disaster (knock on wood).

Thankfully the theme of this past week was also easing anxiety, namely about teaching, living in India, and our responsibilities as a TMS fellow. From welcome activities that immediately got our mental gears turning about our own cultural identity, to teaching methods boot camp, to discussing ways to encourage and evaluate creative confidence, I felt immediately immersed in the TMS mission of telling personal, community, and global stories through building self-confidence and technical skills. It is what initially drew me to the organization, and having the chance to actually see what that will look like over the next six months was truly thought provoking and inspiring. It has also been wonderful getting to know my co-fellows. We often remarked throughout the week that we all come from very different backgrounds and have very different strengths, but we meet at our love for education and storytelling. What a great thing to have in common!

That being said, this week really laid out the challenges that lie ahead. Navigating language barriers, organizing with administration, and a brand new culture is quite intimidating and I am certainly feeling the pressure. However, I also believe the most beautiful moments in life happen when you feel lost. I found those moments this week when we visited Railway Girls School, and had a chance to see the bright, smiling faces of our future students, and a centering night of community with local teachers, artists, and filmmakers at a Hyderabad community center (where I even ran into someone who previously lived in the same neighborhood that I did in Boston!)

Hyderabad can feel kaleidoscopic in its chaotic traffic, cultural diversity, and overflowing streets. I’m looking forward to finding more little windows into its soul through moments like the ones above in coming months.

In other words: I’m thrilled to be here. Stay tuned!

Jun, 24

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The Modern Story Fellowship, TMS Fellow Updates, Videos

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Meet Karis

When you’re young, you’re likely to have big dreams. Mine were pretty much as big as you can imagine. From year to year I decided I was destined to be a professional soccer player, a fashion designer, a CEO, and even a dolphin trainer. However, throughout all of these ambitious career choices, I kept doing one thing, just because I loved it: storytelling. I made newspapers for my friends, classes, and family starting at age seven, and started taking photos daily when I was 12. Finally one day I wised up and realized that I should probably think about doing what I did everyday anyway for a living. So I decided to become a professional storyteller, or as I usually call it, a journalist.

That dream has become a reality in some of the most incredible ways. I’ve reported for major newspapers and radio stations, and traveled to every corner of cities and around the world in the search for a story. To me, storytelling is the best way to make sense of your life, explore a new place, and interact with others. If you can put a human face on an issue or explain a complicated idea in a simple way, oftentimes you have made sense of it yourself and you can convince people to make a difference in the world. I’m motivated by action, and I’ve found a notebook and camera is the best way for me to spur action in the world. Storytelling was also the only way that I dealt with some tough issues in my life. Growing up, especially when you’re young, can be quite challenging. Asking questions, writing down thoughts, and expressing yourself in words and pictures is one of the best ways to explain your feelings and show the world the importance of your story. With that in mind, while I did journalism on my own, I also volunteered and worked with students to help them tell the stories of their communities and their lives in order to empower the next generation of storytellers.
So when a friend sent me information about The Modern Story, I knew it was the perfect opportunity for me. I’m so excited to travel to a new place, meet new people, learn about Hyderabad (and India), and instill a love of storytelling in more young people. Though it will be quite a bit hotter than my current home, Minnesota, I’m ready and absolutely thrilled to brave the temperatures and travel to Hyderabad to work with The Modern Story and its partners.

Jun, 24

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Pre-Departure, The Modern Story Fellowship, Videos

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Meet Dara

Last summer I heard the story of Cho, a Tibetan refugee, who walked by nightfall for two months to India from a Chinese-occupied Tibet. I was studying abroad in northern India and this service project, a simple language and culture exchange, was meant to serve as an integration method to help prepare us for living in a nearby village. However, for me, hearing his story had a profound impact. Cho told me: “Please tell others my story. I want others to know”. I remember wishing that I had the tools and the proper platforms to get his story out into the world, and not just my small connections to it.

Before I met Cho I understood how important personal storytelling and digital media could be in personal development. While living in New York City I volunteered to teach digital photography to inner-city junior high students. The transformation that occurred was stunning to watch – my students became more confident, it gave them a changed perspective on their world, and it excited them to learn more. It created passion. After meeting Cho I decided that I wanted to do more service for youth, and to help them find their voice in our ever-changing world.

This passion for service also propelled my interest in global education. Following university I moved to Kumasi, Ghana to work for an American NGO where I ran peer mentoring programs in rural villages. I spent seven months there working within the school systems, learning Twi, traveling West Africa, and hearing people’s stories. It was during this time that I learned about The Modern Story Fellowship, and knew that this would be the perfect next step for me to explore additional educational systems, listen to more people’s stories, and to also return to a country that I love.

I think that global education is an ongoing dialogue; it bridges cultural and religious gaps to achieve learning and understanding. I love teaching because I love being a part of that dialogue, and because I never want to stop learning about the world. I am so excited to be a part of The Modern Story, and for this new adventure!