I believe I wouldn’t have the ability to write a single word if I hadn’t received an education. The reality of my life is that I am a Dalit, and I’ve grown up in Maharashtra with this identity. The eradication of the caste system is not something that can be achieved in a mere decade. My life experiences have significantly influenced my perspective, ideas, and how I perceive the world around me. It has always been a challenge to establish my identity and where I belong. Having been born and raised in a rural area, I witnessed the harsh realities of life as a Dalit. However, at that time, I wasn’t fully conscious of how the societal structure oppressed us.
The purpose of writing this article is to express myself and become a more vocal advocate for my community. My educational journey began in a vernacular language at a Z.P. school, and I later pursued my graduation in the local area. Being the daughter of a farmer, I have firsthand experience with agricultural life, especially concerning Dalit farmers who continue to face oppression. When it comes to land ownership, it’s rare to find a Dalit holding a significant amount of land in rural areas.
The Indian education system also exhibits discrimination in various ways. We, as marginalized people who have endured centuries of social, economic, and cultural disadvantage, must ask ourselves whether we are truly equipped to compete with those who have enjoyed privilege for generations. Is meritocracy a justifiable concept? Sadly, many people still lead undignified lives, not only in Maharashtra but in each corner of India.
Once, I was at home for summer vacation. I went out of my home and I heard the sound of a person who was visiting every home and inviting them to marriage. Then I went inside and asked my mother, “Are we going to be invited to the marriage? She answered, No, we are not. That person only invites particular people and not us.
Then I was not able to believe my mother’s words. Again I went outside and saw him. He crossed my house and ignored me. Then it was a situation where one should doubt oneself, that studying a master’s and having the knowledge, having money and having Pakka Ghar will not give me respect and dignity in life. Then what is the difference between me and them? Still, does my identity matter? Then I have doubts about my existence also. Why should I feel humiliated? These are the unanswered questions. But now I am trying to understand the reality of life.
During vacation time, my brother and I used to go to a farm to earn some money. It was the time of October, and we were working on a farm as labourers. The days were long and filled with hard work under the scorching sun. My mother and father both toiled in the fields, but it was disheartening to see that my mother was paid less than my father for the same amount of work.
As the morning sun reached its peak, we were finally done with our work, and our stomachs were growling with hunger. We gathered around for lunch, and that’s when I noticed the stark division among the farmworkers. People were segregated into two groups – one consisted of my family and others like us, and the other was made up of people who belonged to the upper caste.
Confused and curious, I couldn’t help but voice my concern. “Why were we seated like this? Why not make only one group?” I asked my mother, hoping for an explanation. She replied with a sense of resignation, “No, that is fine. We used to eat separately, and it was not a big deal.”
Her acceptance of this division left me feeling conflicted, for I couldn’t understand why such disparities existed. Just then, the owner of the farm arrived and asked for some water. I eagerly offered him water from our container, wanting to be helpful. However, to my surprise and dismay, he refused and instead took a bottle from a woman belonging to the upper-caste group. The feeling of humiliation washed over me like a wave. I couldn’t comprehend why a simple act of offering water could be seen as so inappropriate. I felt like an outsider, an unwelcome guest in this world of divisions.
As I glanced around the open space, I realized that this farm was not just a place of work; it was a microcosm of the larger societal issues that plagued our community. Despite the vastness of the open field, I felt trapped and restless, unable to shake off the discomfort that came with witnessing these injustices. This experience served as a powerful reminder of the deep-rooted prejudices that still existed and the work that needed to be done to create a more equitable society.
My parents always prioritised education over anything. My family owns less than two hectares of land, and farming is the only source of income for us. Our parents also work as labourers because our needs are not met by farming. There are situations in life where we think everything is secondary to education. My brothers are also seeking education. I am very fortunate that I am here only because of my family.
I was very happy that I finally got admitted into the Tata Institute of Social Sciences, Mumbai which is Asia’s most renowned institution. This was the first time I experienced something like this. It was amusing. At the start, I did not experience direct discrimination, but after one month, I started analyzing things because most of the people belong to a well-to-do family. They wear good clothes, are fluent in English, active in class, have private vehicles, have skills and go to pubs, bars and parties. But we can not because we do not have that privilege. Mostly I mix up with people the same as me because we feel a sense of belonging. In my class, there are only 2-3 marginalized people and all belong to the upper caste.
There are some courses like social work where the number of Dalits is good but less in others. Though it is a competition or any program, people from marginalized backgrounds have less participation because when programs are going to happen they work on academic stuff. After all, students like us lack in English, vocabulary and new ideas. So our struggle is for existence. I do not know when this struggle will end, but I do not want to forget the struggle of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar which he did for all who belong to socially, and economically marginalized groups.
Our administration currently has an opportunity to enhance minority representation. To foster a more inclusive and secure environment, it’s important to ensure marginalized individuals are well-represented among both the administrative and staff teams. On our campus, my friend, who studied labour studies and practices across various courses, shared an experience where the topic of caste was being taught. The name of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar was notably absent. To promote a positive and inclusive atmosphere, it’s essential to recognize the contributions of all scholars.
It’s worth noting that some individuals from the upper caste may hold misconceptions about students from marginalized backgrounds, assuming they may not be as proficient in English or less likely to participate in extracurricular activities. Additionally, judgments based on clothing choices are made. However, it’s crucial to remember that true understanding should take into account their family backgrounds, histories, culture and unique circumstances. In fostering a supportive and equitable environment, we should strive to appreciate the diversity and potential of all students without preconceived biases.
There is a notable presence of marginalized individuals on our campus, providing them with a platform to express their voices and work towards their causes. In the context of our college, like many other educational institutions, annual elections are a significant event, featuring different parties vying for positions of leadership. Last year was a great victory for the marginalized community and it was a historical event. Though on one side we try to create our space, still our identity is questionable. During one such election cycle, a girl from the upper caste expressed her interest in contesting through a marginalized party, seeking to bridge the gap between different social groups.
However, she faced disappointment when she was not granted a ticket. She questioned whether it was necessary for marginalized parties to always centre their politics around caste. This raised an interesting debate, as many upper-caste students believed that marginalized students overly emphasized caste in their political endeavours.
In response to her query, a fellow student posed a thought-provoking question: “If caste doesn’t matter to you, would you consider marrying someone from a marginalized caste, and would your family accept such a union?” Her candid response was a resounding ‘No.’ This exchange highlighted the enduring significance of caste in society, even when individuals outwardly claim otherwise.
These discussions shed light on the complex dynamics at play. It brings into focus whether marginalized students are genuinely focusing on caste or if they are merely striving to carve out their space within campus life. The reality for marginalized students is often one of exclusion and insecurity, which further underscores the importance of representation and a voice in campus affairs.
During election campaigns, the message reverberates through various mediums, both online and offline, with a powerful slogan that resonates in the air: ‘Jay Jay Jay Bhim.’ This phrase serves as a reminder of the ongoing struggle for equality and social justice, as marginalized individuals strive to find their rightful place within the academic landscape.
This journey is ongoing, and it shall persist. Each encounters their life challenges, but our struggle revolves around the very essence of existence. Ultimately, it all boils down to a question of identity.
Dr. B.R. Ambedkar is a great inspiration for us. I remembered one of his quotes,” The progress of any society depends on the progress of education in that society”. We struggle to seek education. He believed that through education, we as a society can progress.
Diksha Sanjay Athawale is a student of Master of Social Work in Public Health at Tata Institute of Social Science in Mumbai.
