By April, most schools are done recruiting their teachers for the new session. In the process of recruitment, we realise that a new breed of teachers has quietly entered the teaching force. But first, one must pay homage to the wonder woman who is the 21st-century teacher. She has to keep abreast of the latest technology (and seen to be using it in the classroom), the latest pedagogical trends and, of course, she must know the National Education Policy. She has to have superhuman powers because she has to keep a classful of hyper-energetic children disciplined without using harsh words or threats lest pa­rents level accusations of scarring their offspring’s tender psyches forever. These teachers are expected to be lifelong learners, which involves attending endless workshops, talks and meetings — all held outside their official working hours. They also need to keep track of the continuous barrage of WhatsApp instru­c­tions and messages that keep assaulting their phones. I marvel at the 21st-century teacher and salute her every day.

However, the story changes when we try to recruit tea­chers. It is a bewildering experience. Although they are armed with qualifications, their depth of knowledge is suspect. Many are poor communicators. If asked to talk about themselves they will begin, “Myself, xyz (name), my address is…” and then proceed to give us a verbal narration of their CV which is before us. It is evident that their teacher training programme didn’t include such basics as filling up forms. Earlier, our forms asked for three referees and the applicant’s relationship with each. When I saw that a candidate had written “intimate” in the column meant to indicate the nature of each ‘relationship’ (instead of colleague or supervisor), I decided to do away with the column altogether. Now, they furnish names that we subsequently discover are those of their parents, neighbours or friends.

Another phenomenon that I have noticed is that when we give them a chance to ask us questions, they are most reluctant to do so. After much coaxing, they invariably ask about school-timings, remuneration and the levels they would be required to teach. I only wish a few would ask us about our policies, pedagogical approaches and goals. However, nothing is intrinsically wrong with these teachers. I think it is a result of years of conditioning where they have just followed orders, have never been included in the decision-making and are seldom encouraged to offer ideas and suggestions.

Now I will try to describe the new breed of teachers who have made an insidious entry into the teaching force. They are money-minded and dispassionate. Curiously, they are very designation-conscious and wish to be Head of the Department, Coordinator or Administrator and not just a teacher. They crisply state the percentage hike they expect over their last-drawn salary and generally use corporate jargon when they speak. A friend keeps reminding me of her startling experience when she had gone to attend a workshop in Mumbai. She came across a bunch of wo­men who claimed to be proud professionals. They boldly declared that they didn’t believe in ‘loyalty’ or any such sentimental nonsense in the workplace. They are hired for their competence and are therefore ready to work for any organisation which is prepared to pay them more. My friend believes that Calcutta has not caught up with this culture yet. But I think that it is catching up fast.

I feel sad about the lost serenity of the school of yesteryear in which many of us grew up and taught. But, at the same time, I can’t help thinking of this change as divine retribution. A schoolteacher has always been pathetically paid and even now I see how ill-paid many of them are. Yet teachers in India are in such short supply that it has become a full-blown cri­sis. The government can have ambitious educational targets but where are the tea­chers who are expected to implement them? Now the boot will thus be on the other foot and the hitherto neglected teachers will be wooed by their desperate employers and head-hunters will have a field day. Nevertheless, I earnestly hope that all the ugly aspects of corporate culture will not invade the world of education.

Devi Kar is director, Modern High School for Girls, Calcutta