Sixth Grade Girls
The hilly, gravel road up to the administration office was almost as daunting as the world
past the towering black fences that winked from behind once I had crossed. It was my second
visit and I still had not become accustomed to the severe contrast of the rugged slums
surrounding the perfectly manicured girls’ school and orphanage. I had finally gathered the
courage to interview the girls about their thoughts on education as the last time I was here, I was
too intimidated to utter a word. After attending to the formalities with the dean of the school, I
was ushered to any classroom of my choice and unsurprisingly I chose the least intimidating, the
sixth grade class.
Their young faces shown with excitement after realizing I was from America and all of
them were anxious to answer my questions. The questions I asked were mainly in regards to the
school, the happiness of the girls, and girls’ education in general, and I only got positive
feedback. After I concluded my interviews, I asked if any of them had questions for me and
suddenly the room fell eerily silent. They were so excited for the opportunity to ask about
America, that they didn’t want to sound unintelligent or make a mistake. After a few moments of
awkward silence, one girl timidly rose her hand and then the room erupted into a roar of
questions. I bonded with the girls over the question and answer session, they begged to know
every little detail from the food, to school, to holidays, to the weather, and by the end of it they
were calling me Didi, a term of respect which means sister, and I really did feel like their sister
as I made a deep, personal connection with every girl in that room.
As the girls headed off to recess, all was well and the students and residents seemed as
though they had scarcely any problems. And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the
shocking image of a girl curled up on a bench with tears streaming down her face. She was one
of the most active members in the discussion I had previously had with the sixth grade girls so I
tentatively crept over to her to see what was wrong. She saw me approaching and quickly wiped
her tears and greeted me as though nothing had happened. It appeared as though she was fine but
then I glanced down and noticed her uniform was freshly stained. I asked her what had happened
to her clothes and then the floodgates opened.
Mira is the 3rd eldest of five daughters and two sons. She has a mother who she never
sees, as her mother is working all the time but can’t support all of her children. Her father died
two years prior to my visit. In order to get into the school and orphanage Mira’s mother had to lie
about the number of children she had, as the school demotes excessive amounts of children. As a
result only three of the five girls are able to get an education and Mira is not able to see her
family in fear the school may learn the truth. Unlike the majority of Indians, Mira is Christian
and is regularly harassed because of her religion. The girls in the older grades bully her because
of what her mother had to do to get her in, as well as her different religion, which is why one of
the girls had thrown something at her and stained her clothes.
I was utterly disgusted by the attitude of the ignorant girls who had treated her with such
contempt, prejudice is a form of terrorism that exists in every corner of the world. Mira seemed
joyful, fun and exceedingly extroverted but that was clearly not the case. Suddenly the behavior I
witnessed during my previous visit made sense. I felt compelled to speak with the youngest girls
at the school as they were the most kind and appreciative, when I was introduced to some of the
older grades they seemed more pessimistic and annoyed at my very presence. I realized after
talking with Mira, the older girls understood they would have to return to their awful existences
outside the sheltered environment of the school soon, and didn’t want to go back to the horrific
problems Mira and the younger girls were grateful for escaping. Mira was bullied at the school
but it was nothing compared to her life before she was accepted, her parents would have married
her off young, or made her work as a maid. The girls can only escape their fate for so long
though, which is why once they graduate, they are at the mercy of their families if they don’t
make their own decisions. I hung my head in shame to have judged all these girls before truly
understanding their backgrounds, I was the culprit of prejudice this time.
As I crossed the shadowy black gates back into the harsh visual of the rugged world
outside the sheltered school. My conception of prejudice had changed as well as my level of
empathy. I could not believe the extent of the problems girls younger than I, had to deal with on
a regular basis. This school is giving them a chance to be more cultured and make their own
decisions for the future which is why in that moment, edging away from the towering black gates
gleaming from behind, I decided I would start a fundraiser to help these girls and educate others
about the struggles they face.
She created a fundraiser and raised $1615 in 4 months for the school, surpassing her initial goal
of $1500. In addition, she was so passionate about the topic that she researched and created an
activity book which helped her educate and teach classes of 5th grade students in McKinney,
Texas, about the struggles girls in India face in order to achieve a quality education. She wants
to continue this into her junior and senior year of high school and start a foundation which not
only helps this school, but schools across India, and eventually create education equality across
the world.