Incumplimiento provocado por los progenitores

can salvage the situation, remove the grievance of the minority and improve the

quality of education and prospects of minority students. (1991, p. 72)

Yet in other situations, as for example in the Kumaun, there is little demand for official use of the home language in the school. In 1981, Khubchandani presented what he calls the multiple-choice medium policy as follows:

1. Primary stage:

a. Dominant regional language

b. Pan-Indian language – English / Hindi c. Other major languages

d. Newly cultivated languages (as preparatory media) 2. Secondary stage:

a. Dominant regional language

b. Pan-Indian language – English / Hindi c. Other major languages

3. Higher Education stage:

a. English as developed medium

b. Hindi and regional languages as emerging media

At government schools in the Kumaun, Hindi is chosen as medium of instruction at all stages of education as both the dominant regional language and a pan-Indian language. However, most private schools reflect a preference for English-medium instruction.

Reasons for rejecting mother-tongue instruction include demand for higher- status languages for social and economic advance. From a look at educational

preferences in India, the medium of instruction preferred by many from the primary stage onward is the one most valued at the higher stages of education: English. Those

who can afford to do so send their children to English-medium schools, and the government also has begun in some schools to comply with this demand for English medium despite concerns for promoting India’s official and regional languages -- languages that themselves appear to be “minority” languages beside English.

Reasons for demanding mother tongue education can be both pedagogical and political. Regardless of the global and political status of a child’s mother tongue,

educational research has clearly shown that children learn best when taught in their own language, and minority children in particular face multiple disadvantages when they are required to learn primary literacy skills through the medium of a second language (Jhingran, 2005). The multilingual contribution from the state comes from its obligation to provide education and to keep children from dropping out of school (Annamalai, 2001). As Annamalai points out, however, “the state may provide a place for the minority mother tongue in education not on any principle of pedagogy or human right but to meet political expediency” (2001, p. 72). Regardless of the motivation behind them, such policies change the status of a language and contribute to its acquisition and

maintenance.

Currently several states, including Andhra Pradesh, Orissa, and Chatisgarh are giving attention to mother tongue instruction for tribal minorities. The motivation is primarily to provide adequate educational support to populations that have experienced high rates of educational failure and drop-out. Such tribal minorities are considered quite distinct from the speakers of so-called dialects of Hindi or other regional languages. In the Kumaun, for example, it remains to be explored what educational benefits might be gained from introducing or encouraging the home language, Kumauni, as medium of instruction in place of or alongside Hindi. However, from discussions with many teachers, I have learned that in rural areas Kumauni is often used informally in

school for explaining concepts, particularly in the lower primary grades when children are learning Hindi, as described in Chapter 6. These multilingual practices represent another layer of informal language planning in India, as discussed below.

What Actually Happens in Education for Linguistic Minorities? Implementation Issues and Multilingual Classroom Practices

Reporting the number of languages used as media of instruction in India parallels the complexity addressed earlier of numbering the nation’s languages. In 1976 there were reported to be 33 tribal languages in use as media of instruction in schools

(Pattanayak, 2001). In 1981, Khubchandani (1981) reported that a total of 80 languages were being used as media of instruction in India. In 2001, Annamalai reported 47 languages used as media of instruction, and Singh (2008) reported that there are 34 languages used in schools in India. Jhingran (2005) states that less than 20 languages are being used for media of instruction in primary education. Several Indian states have implemented the use of minority languages as “preparatory medium” or “partial

medium” (Khubchandani 2001, p. 32). Besides state provisions, some tribal schools have been formed by the Education department and some by the Welfare Department. Other mother-tongue education programs have been promoted by NGOs.

Even when mother-tongue education policies and programs are initiated, implementation problems often hinder the use of minority languages in education. Program implementation suffers from inefficiencies due to few inspections, absent teachers, unavailability of texts, and alienation from the home language (Pattanayak, 2001). According to Dua (1985), the use of minority languages in education face

implementation problems, not due to lack of student motivation and ability or from the parents’ devaluation of such instruction, but from pedagogic, environmental and curricular problems. The use of minority languages in the first few years of education is

not an automatic solution to educational problems for linguistic minorities. As Pattanayak (2001, p. 54) says: “With inexperienced teachers and insufficient reading materials these programs are apologies for education.” Contributing to the problem in many cases are literacy materials with very little practical village content and little that would be motivational for learners, as well as the lack of planning for transitions from one language to another in the school (2001). Other hindrances to program

implementation spring from mistrust, as some administrators fear more demands from minority groups and community members fear loss of access to the languages of power (Annamalai, 1990). Annamalai points out that bilingual education faces more resistance when it is centrally planned than when it is used informally as a part of the

multilingualism common in society.

Looking beyond program implementation problems to micro-level decisions about language use in the classroom reveals another layer of language planning in India. The multilingualism that has been observed in educational settings in India outside of official policy deserves some consideration. Khubchandani (1981) notes that “in actual practice one notices a good deal of code-switching and hybridization of two or more contact languages in informal teaching settings” (p. 31). Multilingual teachers can speak in whatever way best helps their students. According to Khubchandani (2001)

multilingualism manifests itself in multiple ways in the classroom:

it is not unusual to find in many institutions anomalous patterns of

communication where the teacher and the taught interact in one language, classes are conducted in another, textbooks are written in a third, and answers are given in a fourth language or style. (p. 33)

In a multilingual setting, this may be more natural than we think. Referring to the developed world, Pattanayak (2001) says:

Having accepted a single language as a goal, a single language as ideal for state formation, a single language as a point of departure for linguistic enquiry, and a

single language as a convenient launching pad for describing an individual, a social group and a State, they are at a loss to explain variation. The Third and Fourth Worlds cannot afford such luxury. (p. 50)

In discussing the problems of low literacy among tribal people, Khubchandani (2001) points out the need for respect for grassroots ‘folk’ multilingualism, having stated earlier that "in the 'filterdown-approach of the educational elite, grassroots 'folk'

multilingualism is devalued" (1992, p. 102). In a different context, Annamalai (2001) refers to the successive use of languages for different stages of education as a successive model of bilingual education. Since no plans are made, however, for the switchover between media, the de facto result is what he terms “unplanned simultaneous bilingual education” (p. 2). In light of the need for planning for the switch between languages in preparation for higher education, noted also by Khubchandani (2001), such informal multilingual instruction may serve an important educational function.

Agnihotri (2007) offers a glimpse of what a more structured use of multilingual instruction that builds on the students' linguistic resources could look like in the classroom – instruction that allows children to use the language they know and work together to formulate rules and build understanding. He says:

Any classroom in India is in general multilingual, and unless we conceptualize the school curriculum, syllabus, textbooks and classroom transaction in terms of multilingualism as a resource, strategy and a goal, where languages are not seen as discrete objects and language boundaries are porous, we may not be able to arrive at a pedagogical breakthrough where an individual child’s language and systems of knowledge are respected. (Agnihotri 2007, p. 197)

These pluralistic views of language, of literacy and of classroom instruction requires clearer definition. How does “grassroots ‘folk’ multilingualism” compare with Annamalai’s “unplanned simultaneous bilingual education”? Is it effective for both content and language learning? As mentioned earlier, Annamalai (1990) has observed that bilingual education faces more resistance when it is centrally planned than when it

is used informally, a part of the multilingualism common in society. He also differentiates natural bilingualism and planned bilingualism. Might there also be a distinction between natural bilingual education and planned bilingual education? The questions remains as to whether natural de facto multilingual education can provide an effective bridge between access to education through the mother tongue and access to higher education and economic advancement though the more powerful languages. This question too is not without its controversies, and India's multilingual classroom

practices deserve further exploration.

Taking a glimpse, again, at the Kumauni context, the multilingualism in the Kumaun can be seen reflected in unofficial multilingual classroom practices. As described further in Chapter 6, preschool and primary school teachers often admit to using Kumauni to help children bridge to Hindi in rural areas. Similarly, English and Hindi are used and mixed in English-language classrooms. Rather than feeling ashamed of these multilingual practices, teachers could learn to build on the multilingual

resources in their classrooms, tapping into the benefits of mother-tongue instruction and encouraging their students in the multilingual competencies needed in a multilingual world.

Conclusion: Diversity and Flexibility

Through this analysis of India’s linguistic diversity from a language planning perspective, more questions have been raised than have been answered. How many languages are there in India? This is a question open to debate – a question involving definitions, census practices, and multiple motivations. Which languages get status? What about the other languages? Though addressed in the Constitution, issues of

language status too are not without fluctuation, and the reasons behind which languages have received status are rarely linguistic. As a language planning case, the Census

activities of classification and rationalization exemplify a status-planning goal of legitimization or recognition. Similarly, hesitation to acknowledge some linguistic diversity reveals a language-planning goal of minimization. Meanwhile safeguarding the rights of linguistic minorities in the Constitution results in language protection rather than proscription. What happens in education for linguistic minorities? Constitutional rights and national education policies make some provision, but implementation varies. And what actually happens in the classroom adds another level of complexity and an opportunity for informal language planning deserving more exploration.

Throughout India’s history as a nation, the government has in various ways addressed the linguistic diversity in India, with complexity and controversy at each turn. I return to the question of who is served when India is said to have certain numbers of languages and when status is given to certain languages. Which approaches may

contribute most to the educational opportunities of linguistic minorities? India continues in its ongoing efforts to answer these questions, taking into account the diversity of situations to be considered. In the words of Khubchandani (2001, p. 43): “When dealing with plural societies, we shall do well to realize the risks involved in uniform solutions.”

Chapter 6

Language Use and Language Labels in Community and in Education: Bhasha-Boli, Mother Tongue, and Medium of Instruction

The previous chapter focused on issues related to national-level language

planning, from the status given to minority languages to the use of minority languages in schools, with glimpses of the relevance of these issues in the Kumaun. This chapter provides a closer look at what is being experienced and expressed locally in relation to the status of languages; to categories like language, dialect, or mother tongue; as well as to media of instruction. First, I place these discussions in context by describing language use in the Kumaun and how language use was described to me. The relevant languages are Kumauni, Hindi, English, and Sanskrit, each used to varying degrees, in various domains, for various purposes, and with frequent overlap, especially between the most frequently used Kumauni and Hindi. Kumauni is often referred to colloquially as Pahari,

which literally means “of the mountains.” The term is used by linguists to refer to the set of related languages spoken in the Himalayas.

Language Use

What do the students have to say about language use? As a fun way to provide an initial overview, I start this section with descriptions of two activities and the feedback I got from high school students in Kausani. In one English class with the Class 12 students at the Government Intermediate College (GIC), we compiled a list of their daily activities. When the list was complete, I started to ask some questions about language use, as described in this excerpt from my field notes:

I asked what languages they use while doing these activities. “Hindi. And Pahari,” they said. When do you use Hindi and when Pahari? “Pahari at home and Hindi at school,” one girl said. I heard a boy saying: “Just Hindi.” Then he said: “No, it's

the same.” I asked whether girls speak Pahari and boys speak Hindi, but from their reactions I could see that this didn't ring true for them. I asked when they use English and one girl seemed to be saying that they don't. One of the boys said: “For the English PAPER [exam].” And you talk with me sometimes, I said, in

English. I asked spontaneously when they use Sanskrit, thinking that it would be just in school, but one boy said: “For prayer.” And prayer was one of the things they had listed on their daily schedule. Then one of the boys joked that they also speak Urdu when they are brushing their teeth: “Ammmamam,” he hummed. We all laughed. (H; FN:08Apr10)1

This student was making humorous reference here not to how Urdu itself sounds, but to the sound of a Muslim's prayer. The association between language and religion when it comes to the Urdu language is obvious, even though the Muslim and Christian minorities in the region are Kumauni speakers.2

On another occasion, I used an activity to talk with the same students about the use of the various languages, as described in my field notes:

I suggested that we do one more game and made pie charts with them on the board of how much of each language would be used by a child, a student, a

married person, and an old person. I listened for the loudest responses and asked for confirmation, checking their faces. Sometimes I walked over closer to the girls to get their answers more fully. Some were saying that little children just speak Hindi, but the consensus seemed to be that it was 50-50, Hindi and Kumauni. A school student would use a small percentage of both English and Sanskrit, with the remainder split between Hindi and Kumauni. The same would be true for a married person. At first the girls said that a married person would just use Pahari. They agreed that a small percentage of English would be used to talk if a foreigner came. And a little Sanskrit would be used for puja [worship; prayer].

When I asked about old people, one of the girls said that it depends upon the atmosphere [mahaul] -- what people around them are speaking. If they are in a village, they will speak Kumauni. If they are in a city, they will speak Hindi. She said the same about the other age groups also. They said that it would be different if they were living in Delhi, so I made pies of each of the age groups for a person in Delhi. The child would be the same: 50-50 Hindi and Kumauni -- or more Hindi. For the student, one of the boys said 40% English and the rest Hindi -- maybe a little Kumauni... (H; FN:08Apr26)

There were differences of opinion among the students as there are likely differences in

1 In citing examples from my field notes and interviews, I identify the language being used as Hindi (H), Kumauni (K), or English (E), except when referencing my own memos within field notes. I then differentiate between field notes (FN), paraphrased quotes (PQ) written, as I remembered them, in the voice of the speaker; and direct quotes (DQ), including recorded interviews and quotes written word- for-word in my field notes. The rationale for this maintenance of voice in field notes is explained in Chapter 4. FN, PQ, or DQ are followed by the year, month, and day of the event or interview.

2 The fact that Urdu had been at one time taught in schools in the Kumaun and that Sanskrit is now being promoted more is worth noting. Hindu prayers are recited at the start of the school day at government

language use in their homes. School and home, urban and rural, young and old – all contribute to the mix in the daily use of Kumauni and Hindi, and the less frequent use of English and Sanskrit.

In my analysis of language use, I wanted to compile a tidy chart of how each language is used or how languages are used in various domains. I sorted through the 209 excerpts from my field notes that dealt with either my observations of language use or someone's comments about language use. The resulting chart was anything but tidy. A few patterns emerged. The contexts that were mentioned in relation to language use included the home and the school, the village and the city, Kausani, the Ashram, and conferences or meetings. Usage also varies by person – different with outsiders, among women and with children.

Not surprisingly, language use in the various speech situations is usually more complicated than people say. Some exaggeration is involved in generalizations. A woman in the city tells me that nobody speaks Kumauni anymore, yet I hear it from three-year- olds in a village. A man in the village tells me that nobody here speaks English, and yet an elderly woman offers me “WATER.”3 I could generalize that more Kumauni is actually