OpinionFrom India to Iowa: Culture Clash, 1962Lakshmi A. KripalaniEditor's note: In the previous issue, Ms. Kripalani recounted her early years. At age 41, she received the call to leave India and accept a job starting a Montessori school in Iowa. Her story continues. I had never expected nor wished to leave India to visit the United States. When I accepted the teaching position in Iowa City, IA, in 1962, I assumed that the ladies of America lived lives of movie stars and that America was a dreamland of prosperity. When I got off an airplane is the early morning hours in Iowa City, I was met by two ladies wearing what looked like nightclothes. They were looking for someone looking different that I did. We greeted each other in amazement. They could not believe that someone coming from India had her hair in a permanent. Then I saw their car. My family in India was not rich but lived a very decent life. Every morning our servant would go out and wash the car, shining it with not a single spot. My hosts' car was not only dirty but appeared to have been hit on all sides. When they opened the door I smelled trash and saw a worn out blanket, all kind of toys and the mess that the children can leave in the car. I could hardly dare to step in that junkyard. When we reached the house, there was another surprise. The house was under construction. There were temporary partitions within the rooms. I had no idea that people in Iowa lived in their houses before completion. I was exhausted and these scenes were of no help. I wanted to fly instantly back to India. My hosts asked if I would like to have a cup of tea; they wanted to talk before I went to bed. I accepted. They provided a cup of tea in a mug without a cracker or biscuit. I had no idea of a mug and in India we never offered a cup of tea without some kind of refreshment, even in the poorest home. I could not swallow that cup of tea. They told me that I had arrived a week later than expected. The parents were disappointed. They asked if I would start the classes on Monday or needed a few days to rest. Looking at their faces I decided not to create any more disappointments and agreed to start the school on Monday. Then they informed me that no classroom material had arrived from Amsterdam. I had to buy the practical life material. I sat there frozen for a while, wondering how to conduct a new class without having seen the children and without material. After taking a deep breath I said I would get up early in the morning and we would go to shop for practical life exercises. I also needed magazines with pictures to make language material. They were very happy that school would start on Monday. On Sunday, I dragged myself out of the bed and they took me to a grocery market to pick up materials for practical life exercises. There was nothing available in small sizes. I picked up anything that was available. I did not eat lunch, and set to work making the language material. A board member brought magazines to help. While we were at work I was told, as a matter of fact, that there would be a parents' meeting the next evening and I was expected to address the group about Montessori. I had little time to prepare for something entirely new to me. In India we had occasional individual conferences but no PTA meetings. Looking back, I regret I did not exercise my rights. I let them roll over me. Next morning I was not even allowed to see the parents at the door. My hosts' excuse was that I might not understand these parents. I had to work with two groups of students, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. Fortunately the children fell in love with my sari. They were fascinated with the beautiful border of the sari and were able to touch and feel it. I sat on the floor and allowed them to sit in a circle around me. I had already drawn a circle on the floor, the day before when I visited the classroom. The first thing I did was to introduce myself to them and teach them to pronounce my name. This was a new venture for them. Some parents had told children my name but the children were amused that their parents invariably had pronounced it wrong. After asking each individual child's name I introduced oral language exercises with all kinds of movements. Generally teachers wait for more than six months to introduce grammar boxes. But young children learn grammar unconsciously by imitating parents. We do not have to wait to follow the sequence. In my first conversation with the children I introduce almost all parts of speech and associate each with an action, without naming the part of speech. After that, it is easy to introduce grammar boxes. I kept the children walking, clapping, singing, standing or sitting and then modifying the actions, such as clap softly or clap loudly at different intervals. This kept the children involved and eager for the next move. Interestingly, I started walking on the line on the first day and it worked nicely. Sometimes we underestimate the ability of children to adapt to a new situation. We forget that it is not we, but rather the potential of the child that drives the learning process. The evening was another cloud hanging over my head. Not knowing whom I was going to face was frightening. I knew that many of the parents were professors or lecturers from the University of Iowa, with a few graduate students. It was a good crowd of about 50. I had no time to plan or decide what I was going to talk about. The treasurer of the board talked about Montessori education, then introduced me. Once she started to speak about Montessori, I calmed down. Then I stood up. I said: "I have never taught and have no intention of teaching." The audience was puzzled. Why had they imported me from India? I took a deep breath and then softly explained that Montessori education is not a teaching process. It is direction-through-demonstration, helping the child to unfold his or her potential. That put them at ease, but they were very eager to know what else I had to say. Without saying anything else, I collected the material and started to demonstrate the peeling and cutting exercise. We had no peelers in India. We used the knife only. Besides we did not get carrots easily and we used potatoes. Potatoes were then boiled or fried for the children to eat. I could not get a proper sized knife from the grocery store so I picked up the one that was available. After washing and drying the potato, I started to peel it. I slowly peeled the whole potato, keeping the very fine peel intact. When I held the whirling peel I explained that a kind of coordination and control is acquired through such activities, and how this moves the child forward with grace and courtesy. The audience was numb. No one asked further questions, fearing they might reveal their lack of understanding or knowledge. They gave me a standing ovation. I ended my first day with confidence that I could mange my life in this new world. The president of the Montessori society was not so certain. She wanted to keep me in the dark and control me. She had taken the role of the administrator of the school. My assistant, the wife of a board member, reported my every move to the administrator. Fortunately I could accept her personality and we tried to get along nicely. The next Sunday we met at my host's home to make more language material. The president asked, "Are you not embarrassed [I really do not remember the exact word but perhaps she even used the word ashamed] to have your hair in a permanent and wear costly saris when your countrymen are dying of hunger?" This was a shock, but I did not know how to discuss it with her. I felt sorry for her political ignorance, not to mention her inability to distinguish between an average sari and a costly one. I did not look at her. I kept mum for the rest of the day. The only Indians she had met were the wives of students from India. But these women were from a different part of India. I was brought up in Karachi and then in Bombay, areas quite advanced compared to the south. The following Sunday I read a newspaper article about Americans who lived in poverty. When the president arrived I gave her the paper and asked why she had done nothing for her own neighbors. This did not silence her. I learned to ignore her. It was agreed that I would live in the school board president's house until they were able to find housing for me. I knew that it would be very hard for me to find a place of my own in a new country. It turned out to be very difficult to live with this family. The timing of meals took some adjustment, but even more so the food. For two days we had chicken and French fries. On the third day they went back to beef and did not know what to offer me, so I was again served with chicken and fries. I picked up the salt and pepper shakers, but both were empty. The family could not believe that I had finished off the salt and pepper within two days, a quantity that normally served them for a year. The hostess offered to take me to the grocery store. I found no familiar spices. I asked for curds. They had none. I was not aware that it was yogurt that I should have asked for. I came back disappointed and wrote home to get some of the stuff. After three or four weeks I received a call from the president of the Indian Student Association in Iowa. My host said I was too busy to accept an invitation. I was sitting nearby and overheard the conversation. I demanded to talk to the caller. I told him that I would go. My host reluctantly agreed. I was so delighted to be with an Indian. As soon as I entered his home, I saw a big bowl of homemade curds on the table. I was so excited that without customary greetings I eagerly asked if I could have two spoons of curds to take home to make my own. They had the greatest laugh of their life. They understood my dilemma as they had gone through a parallel experience. They explained to me that they would be more than happy to give me not only two spoons but also a cup to take home. They then explained that in the United States they called it yogurt. We talked about the misunderstandings and prejudices of some local people toward Indians. They promised to help me find a place to live. I returned home and had the best night's sleep in a very long time. I was paid every two weeks. The board wanted to hold my pay so that I would have money for the summer months. I knew I could manage my own affairs. I insisted on being paid according to the ten-month period as the contract stated. After a hassle, they agreed. The class ran smoothly despite the lack of material. I made language materials and eventually the didactic material arrived. I got a new assistant for the afternoon class. She was one of the parents but, unlike others, was very understanding and helpful. She was friendly and took me out for a ride to show me around. We stopped near the school and she pointed to a church. The school was also in a church. I asked her if that was the church that she belonged to, as I knew that she was not a member of the church where the school was. She said, "No." She sounded as if I had made a blunder. By the end of our drive, I had seen a number of churches of different denominations. For me every church was the same. It was a reminder that humanity divides itself, even in the name of religion that ought to unite us. After three months or so I moved to a place in university quarters where only visiting professors normally lived. It was a nice but small apartment with only a bedroom and a kitchen. It was decently furnished and I was happy to live independently. I immediately registered for a morning university course. I could easily walk over. To take the course, I had to take a full medical examination. It was not the medical examination itself but the attitude of the nurse that stunned me. She treated me as if I were a piece of luggage. I was so humiliated that I decided to leave, but she took away my clothing and would not allow me to leave. I came home crying and could not sleep. It was not easy to study, as the board wanted me to be, at all times, at their service. I believe they did not want me to be exposed to the rest of the world. They did not realize that I had lived a professional life in India and was not ignorant. Parents were happy with their children's progress, but board members were still in a haze. One member's five-year-old missed kindergarten admission dates and sent his son. His younger son wanted to come with the brother but the father did not really believe that it would benefit him at that young age. After a while, hearing the child's constant crying, I suggested to the father that he let the young one attend. He agreed. After a week or so, as the father was reading a bedtime story to his younger son, the son felt his face and said, "Daddy you have a very rough face. My face is very soft." He was stunned to see his two-and-a-half-year-old making that comparison. The next morning he came to the school to find out if I had taught his son that idea. I told him that I had not done so directly but showed him the rough and smooth tablets, both simple and graded, and that he had made that discovery by himself. The father was sold. From then on, the attitude of the board changed. Although attitudes were changing I was not comfortable with the administration. I could not resign at the end of the school year as my contract was from November to October. Besides, I did not want to lose the board's commitment to paying my way to audit the AMI training course that summer. That finally convinced me to continue. The board asked me to run summer class for four weeks before going to California to audit the training. That meant that I had to miss the first week of the training. I agreed. When the day to go to California came, I packed my albums and Dr. Montessori's lectures and headed to the airport. As in my journey from India to Iowa, the plane connections were a problem. And, as in that earlier journey, a clash of cultures for which I was fully unprepared awaited me. I was about to witness the storied rupture between AMI and AMS. Next: The split. © Copyright 2004 L. A. Kripalani Lakshmi A. Kripalani was trained by and has worked with Dr. Maria Montessori and Mario Montessori. She is an AMI Montessori teacher trainer and consultant. Dr. Montessori's 1946 Lectures-Karachi, India, transcribed and edited by Lakshmi Kripalani, is now available through the Houston Montessori Center, 713 464-5791. Miss Kripalani is available for lectures, workshops or consultations. lkripal...@comcast.net. |
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