Children, not commodities!

Let me begin with the mental state of the parents of a boy I am familiar with. They hoped that their son would do extremely well in the Class XII CBSE exams. But then, his 88 per cent marks seem to have brought the entire family into a state of mourning and despair. In fact, in the age of inflated marks (imagine the 'toppers' getting 500/500), nothing — even 98 per cent marks — satisfies the parents. As I converse with them, I realise that they are unhappy; they are anxious; and they are worried about the 'future' of their son. What adds to their nervousness is that their son could not do so well in the NEET, the screening test for getting admission in medical colleges. Will he be able to become a doctor, or even a dentist? And even if he manages to become a dentist, will he get a job in a good hospital? Or, for that matter, will he be able to earn sufficient money through his 'private practice'? There seems to be no end to their chronic nervousness and fear. They seem to have fallen into the trap of overthinking. Needless to add, their son, too, is terribly broken. Possibly, for the recovery of his self-esteem and renewal of his life-energy, he needs a qualitatively different kind of environment — an environment that understands him or recognises him as what he is; or an environment that doesn't equate his essence with his marksheet. Quite often, we pressurise our children to follow the same standardised path — opt for physics, chemistry, mathematics and biology; join the Kota factory; repress all other aptitudes and emotions; and satisfy the egos of your parents. Naturally, the idea of any other path causes immense fear and anxiety. Possibly, some of them want to become a wildlife photographer, an archaeologist, a social activist or a musician. But then, it is quite unlikely that they will be encouraged by their parents. This repression is creating a generation that is afraid of doing new things or experimenting with life. Life has its own poetry and uncertainty, but in the name of 'safety' and 'security', we tend to transform it into straightforward mathematics. This is nothing but what Erich Fromm would have characterised as 'escape from freedom'. This is anti-life.

And finally, as parents, when do we realise the gravity of the crisis? The narrative with which I began this article indicates the trend — the obsession with the market-defined notion of 'success' and the unbearable pressure on our children. As we refuse to give any importance to the need for inner fulfilment, creative joy, the union of work and play and the rhythm of a simple/modest living, our children are compelled to carry the burden of mental fatigue and neurosis. No wonder students' suicide is becoming the new normal in the country. As the latest report published by the National Crime Records Bureau shows, over 13,000 students took their lives in India in 2023.

Yet, the game, I apprehend, would go on. As adults/parents/teachers, we would refuse to introspect. We would fail to initiate a movement for saving education from the life-killing rat race. And our children will continue to be deprived of an emancipatory vision of education, vocation and life.

The boy I am referring to is not alone. There are many like him — wounded, broken and humiliated. Yes, this is a structural/societal problem — a problem characterised by the scarcity of opportunities and rising unemployment, the normalisation of hyper-competitiveness in everyday life, and the middle-class dream of achieving what a market-driven society valorises — a set of select careers that fetch money or attractive salary packages, and enables one to come closer to a mode of living the cult of consumerism prescribes. But then, this structural problem cannot be combated unless we acknowledge and empathise with the pain of the victims of this system — say, the likes of the boy I am referring to. Moreover, if we really wish to change this system, and want our children to evolve as humane, sensitive, compassionate and life-affirming beings, we need to radically alter our ways of looking at them. Let us be aware of the danger of the growing commodification of life — the way the logic of the market is fast colonising the most intimate domain of family relations. Even our own children, we begin to think, ought to evolve as 'products' — yes, the commodities the market values and appreciates. The human essence of your child is not sufficient; she/he must be seen as a 'thing' the worth of which has to be measured through degrees, diplomas, social capital and above all, the job profile or the salary package. No wonder with an appropriate 'price tag', your child becomes your status symbol — the way your SUV or your new apartment in a gated society is. The result is that our children are living with immense mental and psychic pressure. Possibly, some of them begin to think that even parental love is not unconditional; and they fall into the trap of despair and nothingness, if the market refuses to buy them. It is high time we assured our children that they are not commodities. It is terribly wrong on our part when we impose our own fear on our children. This fear emanates from the belief that many of us as conservative adults uphold — if you do not follow the crowd and walk the same path, you are in danger or are risking your life!

Views expressed are personal