I come from Ladakh-- the land of sparkling blue lakes, prayer flags, double hump-back camels, monasteries and sub-zero temperatures. My family is one of the few left of the Balti community, who populate the small town of Tyakshi, a village on the banks of the Shyok river. Interestingly, before 1971, my village was part of Pakistan. Once the Indian government gained control over the area, Turtuk got freedom and the village became a part of India. Turtuk is also known as the gateway to the Siachen Glacier, which is the highest battlefield on the earth.

I spent my childhood years in Tyakshi, cut off from the outside world. While some hours were spent studying at the local government school, the remaining day was dedicated to assisting the elders with community tasks. We were taught to plough, sow, irrigate, harvest our own food – so that we could be self-sufficient in the long-run. While helping elders with their daily chores, I learn many tales of Ladakh’s history and life in the mountains through song and dance.

I spent my childhood years in Tyakshi, cut off from the outside world. While some hours were spent studying at the local government school, the remaining day was dedicated to assisting the elders with community tasks. We were taught to plough, sow, irrigate, harvest our own food – so that we could be self-sufficient in the long-run. While helping elders with their daily chores, I learn many tales of Ladakh’s history and life in the mountains through song and dance.

During these years, studying seemed more of a punishment than a learning exercise. Since our teachers focused on discipline, we were forced to do things under the pressure of punishments, and we barely had any understanding of the subject.

In 9th standard when I was enrolled in an English-medium school in Turtuk, I started understanding the relevance of culturally relevant pedagogy. As the basic language shifted from one non-Ladakhi language (Urdu) to another (English), I saw the challenges before me. The curriculum was environmentally and culturally irrelevant. The lessons were explained with examples I could not relate to. How was a child like me, who spent his entire life in 11,000-feet high arid mountains, supposed to imagine lush green forests, fast trains and sky-high buildings? The syllabus was troublesome and contextually unsuitable for the region.

Secondly, children were assessed on this curriculum, causing over 90% to fail the 10th standard exams. Since the teachers were given state set syllabus and question papers, there was barely any scope for students to perform as per their aptitude and IQ.

Answering this problem, in the early 90s, Sonam Wangchuk started an educational reform in Leh-Ladakh. He is the engineer who inspired Aamir Khan's famous character 'Phunsukh Wangdu' in the 2009 blockbuster, 3 Idiots. Sonam launched a movement called Operation New Hope (ONH) under the revolution of SECMOL (Students Education and Cultural Movement of Ladakh).

Operation New Hope was the beginning of a pedagogic revolution in Ladakh and slowly changed the landscape of education in the region. With the help of Village Education Committees, teacher training, language and cultural reforms, the pedagogy was revised, bringing a notable improvement in schools. The ONH program became so popular that it was adopted by the Ladakh Hill Council as its official policy in 1996.

By this time, I had completed higher secondary education and headed to Delhi to study Sociology Honours at Jamia Millia Islamia (2008) followed by Master of Social Work (2012) at Tata Institute of Social Sciences. During 2008-2014, whenever I went back home during holidays, I would volunteer as a part of the Ladakhi Student Association working to help school students. Along with others like me, I travelled to different villages and conducted workshops on personality development, career counselling, language training, and held discussions on issues of social importance.
Over these years as I developed a relationship with education, my connection to the cause deepened. Since I had myself faced challenges with limited resources and guidance, I was able to relate to the struggles of students. This realization that I was bringing a positive change in their life, gave me a feeling of contentment. Today, as I work with Sampark Foundation, I can see the importance of locally relevant pedagogy. When I visit my home town and see children confidently raise their hand in class- I’m filled with pride and joy.

(The writer is a Spark at Sampark Foundation. Views expressed are personal)