By Swati Gautam
Reading Krishna Kumar’s article “In India, why teachers are walking away from the classroom” brought a certain relief that someone is finally addressing this issue. Sitting with his words, I found myself reflecting more deeply, and what follows is a response that grew out of that engagement.
The Slow Withdrawal
Teaching children brings joy. That does not change. What does change, however, is the space in which one is teaching. Some spaces allow you to question, to explore, to make mistakes, and to grow. Others encourage you to stay quiet, to not raise too many concerns, to simply continue without disturbing the surface. And slowly, without even realizing it, learning begins to shrink in such spaces.
What appears as stability from the outside can sometimes be a form of quiet disengagement, something Kumar speaks about when he describes how teachers are not always leaving dramatically, but withdrawing slowly, emotionally and intellectually.
One of the most important things in teaching is the freedom to think and to question. If an educator feels that raising questions will make things uncomfortable, then something is not right. A school must be a place where dialogue is alive, not controlled or filtered, but honest. Without that, teaching risks turning into compliance rather than engagement.
Another thing that often gets ignored is the need for mentorship. Teaching is not something one “arrives” at. It needs constant challenging of ideas, biases, and so-called wisdom. Without guidance and trust, educators often work in isolation—and in isolation, it is easy to start repeating ourselves.
Mentorship offers a safe way to share, to question, and to learn without fear of judgment. It can be an anchor, especially for those new to the profession, so they are not left feeling lost.
Teaching isn’t just about going into the classroom and starting to teach; teachers should be cared for and protected as well. They should feel guided and mentored in the right direction. Young teachers and those entering a new environment need that safety to sustain themselves; it protects the mental health of the teacher and also prepares them to face classroom challenges with more enthusiasm.
“I Already Know”
At a deeper level, there is a quiet problem in the teaching community—the belief that “I already know.” This belief is dangerous. It stops learning, creates rigidity, and silently enters the classroom. Teachers carry their unexamined biases and assumptions without even realizing it, and these shape how we see children and respond to them.
Teaching, then, is not just about lesson plans or content. It is about awareness.
Here’s what this should look like in practice:
- Reading, planning, documenting, reflecting—constantly.
- Loving and respecting children in everyday interactions
- Being honest enough to say, “I don’t know.”
- Listening, really listening, with empathy.
The hours teachers spend with their students each day matter. They are not filler time or a space to escape. They are perhaps the most important part of the day, moments that can become real connection, curiosity, and learning, if held with care.
After every class, there must be a pause. What worked? What did not? Why did something fail? Why did something go so well? This reflection can be written, recorded, or simply thought through—but it must happen. Without reflection, teaching becomes mechanical.
As Krishna Kumar also points out, “When the system pushes teachers towards routine and compliance, the deeper identity of a teacher as someone who thinks, questions, and engages—begins to fade.”
Another important thing to remember is not to get too caught up in authority, politics, or proving yourself. The educational landscape can be tiring and very confusing. Focus on the work. Focus on the children. Do justice to that space and leave each class with a sense of meaning. That is enough.
In the end, teaching is a journey of stepping out, again and again. It is about not getting too comfortable in one space and draining yourself. It is about tasting the water, even when it is not clear or pleasant—because that, too, teaches something.
There comes a point in every educator’s journey when one has to pause and ask, Am I growing, or am I just repeating what I already know? Perhaps this is what matters most: staying open, aware, and willing to keep learning.
Swati Gautam is an educator and storyteller at Krishnamurti Foundation India School who uses storytelling as a pedagogical tool to nurture empathy, critical thinking, emotional intelligence, and global citizenship. She helps young people connect learning with lived experiences and diverse human perspectives.
