Growth of a nation depends on how it treats its weakest members, more specifically, how children with neurological challenges are being nurtured, writes SANGEETA BAHADUR
How would you judge the fundamentals of a civilisation — what may be called the civility of a nation, a peopleIJ By its arts and crafts, its scientific progress, the opulence of its cities or the complexity of its philosophical visionIJ If I had to pick just one criterion, though, it would be compassion: How a society treats its weakest members. Somewhere down the turbulent centuries of strife, subjugation and systematic impoverishment, we seem to have discarded this one cardinal value as a luxury we can no longer afford.
As economic liberalisation saws away the shackles of a millennium of deprivation, an increasingly youthful India is defining itself more and more as RH Tawney’s ‘Acquisitive Society’, impatient with those who cannot keep up, and inclined to treat them as mere impediments in its race to find the fastest formula for getting rich overnight.
This inculcated callousness — certainly not native to the disposition of a people for whom karuna, or compassion, has traditionally been the central virtue defining divinity — is, perhaps, a defence mechanism developed over generations of subservience. It is, nevertheless, yet another challenge that we need to surmount if we are to evolve as a society.
Of the hundred and one issues that spring to mind when you begin thinking along these lines, there is one that is close to my heart and rarely gets talked about: The way we treat persons, particularly children, with special needs. If you are not the parent of such a child — as I am — or a professional who works with them, chances are that you would not even have noticed how the compassion for the ‘differently-abled’ stops right there — at politically correct nomenclatures. There are always exceptions, of course, but by and large I am usually left amazed and deeply disturbed by the insensitivity such children encounter at every step.
It begins with their families, who often either pretend that the problem — or the child — does not exist, or simply resent the child for being the way she is. Then the child steps out into a world that greets her not with a smile and a kind word but with scowls and muttered imprecations about how ‘children like this’ should not be allowed out of the house! None of these hard-headed, upwardly mobile people seems to give a damn about the long-term emotional damage they are causing to the child and her family by their casual cruelty.
The apathy — if not the active hostility — extends to every other area of the child’s life. If the parents decide to educate him at all rather than hiding him away, the whole problem of finding a school with special education facilities rears its ugly head. Unless, of course, they live in a metropolis and are fairly well-heeled, since the private schools which do offer special education facilities are all based in the big cities and cost a bomb, besides being dauntingly exclusive in terms of (a) numbers and (b) the nature and level of disability they are willing to cater to, as I know from personal experience.
In many countries, notably the US and the UK, every child with special needs, irrespective of where she lives or how much her parents earn, is provided free education along with all requisite therapy and treatment, recreational facilities, transport and carer support (critical for parents/families exhausted by the tough regimen of looking after a severely afflicted child). In addition to the qualified personnel employed by the Government, a large body of volunteers donate their time and resources to these kids — simply because they care. Why have we been unable to find that compassion within usIJ The Government doesn’t seem to have given any thought to the fate of the millions of special needs kids — Autistic Spectrum Disorders (ASD) alone, I should point out, claims one child out of every 50! — whose families cannot afford to educate them privately.
I suppose that, with so many ‘normal’ children still deprived of any education worth the name, no one’s been inclined to spare a thought for differently-abled youngsters, but don’t they deserve a fair — if not preferential — chance at lifeIJ True, in many countries around the world special education facilities are non-existent, and it may be argued that we are, at least, better off than them. In this particular context, however, I strongly believe that the adage about consoling yourself by looking at those less fortunate than yourself does not, and most certainly must not, apply.
PM Narendra Modi’s recent initiative to provide respite from routine transfers to Government employees with special needs children is probably the first high-level cognizance ever taken of the issue. I can only hope that other steps will follow. Not just for providing affordable education to the vast majority of these kids, but also vocations and careers based on their abilities and strengths — which are, in many cases, quite formidable — rather than on the dismissive assumption that all they can do is bake cakes or craft cheap souvenirs. In the UK, for example, many young people suffering from ASD are absorbed into the software sector, the music industry (for the tonally gifted), photography and even some banking jobs, depending on what they show an aptitude for. Why can’t India give them a similar chanceIJ
I am as proud as any other Indian of our civilisation heritage, but would the addition of the other three C’s — civility, concern and compassion — to our attitude hurt usIJ We are not speaking here of a crusade against the big-ticket issues — social injustices, gender-violence, farmer suicides. All we need to do to make the quality of life — our own and that of these silent, shadowy folk around us — a little better, a bit more bearable, is to learn to see a reflection of ourselves in them and thus become aware, as Adam Smith says, of the morality of our own behaviour.
When I was in school, we actually had a subject called Moral Science, which attempted to help us tell right from wrong, honourable from dishonourable. Our adolescent levity notwithstanding, somehow the basics stuck in some corner of our minds and hearts, shaping that indefinable but vital element we call the conscience. Since then, in our pursuit of so-called secularism, we have allowed a whole generation to grow up without the benefit of anything qualifying as the study of ethics.
I have always believed that this has led to a situation where we have completely lost our sense of moral, social and civic responsibilities, including towards the differently-abled. Just as nobody is born knowing math or physics or history, ethical behaviour also needs to be formally taught to a child. Our parents’ generation learned it from their parents and grandparents; ours did so in school. With no one teaching them anything beyond the pursuit of materialism, can we blame young Indians today for their lack of comprehension of what it means to be not just human but also humaneIJ
The writer is a senior diplomat currently posted in london and the author of Vikraal, published by Pan Macmillan India, Rs399