3.2 Ciclo de Vida de las Pruebas de Integración
3.2.1 Planificación
Jyoti Singh, the young woman who was raped and killed on December 16th 2012, was
characterized by the media as having lived the life of a typical urban Indian woman. The only daughter of a middle-‐class family, her education enabled her to aspire to a well-‐respected career (she was training to be a physiotherapist), and she was financially independent enough to enjoy one of the city’s relatively exclusive consumer spaces in her leisure time. According to Leslie Udwin’s controversial 2015 documentary, India’s Daughter, Jyoti Singh used to say, ‘“A girl can do anything,”’ (in Roberts 2015: no page numbers). Prior to the attack, Jyoti’s experiences could be described as consistent with a ‘can-‐do’ narrative of femininity, which
suggests to young women that they can get what they want and do what they want. In this respect, girl power exists as a seemingly new version of femininity that can be seen as an assertive and individualised expression of power.
(Aapola et al 2005, in Kehily 2012: 258)
However, in Jyoti’s story, this ‘seemingly new version of femininity’ was brutally contradicted. The Indian government’s belated promises of improved safety for women in public spaces implicitly confirmed a narrative of vulnerable femininity, in which women are always potential victims and therefore in need of protection. By contrast, in the wake of the December 2012 case, Indian feminists called not for improved safety, but greater freedoms for women in all aspects of their lives (see Chapter One). It became apparent that similar tensions between narratives of vulnerable and can-‐do girlhood shaped the lives of the middle-‐class girls who participated in the study.
In the previous chapter, I explored the importance of a career-‐oriented narrative of education for students at all the schools. I discussed girls’ and boys’ shared expectations and aspirations as an illustration of the ‘gender similarity’ that was possible within the context of English medium, co-‐educational schools, particularly for students from middle-‐class backgrounds.
However, there were also important gender differences in girls’ and boys’ perceived ability to achieve academic success.
The time has changed, and the girls are coming to the forefront. Girls want to come forward. And ah, one thing is there – it is, you can say that it is in the genes of the girls that they are hard-‐working, right? In boys they are carefree, casual attitude, free to move here and there […] Some boys are serious, hardworking, but – if you compare boys and girls, the girls [do] more hard work. Now I think time has changed, the girls are coming more forward. Time has changed.
(Chemistry (11A) ma’am, CGS – interview)
The CGS Chemistry teacher suggests here that girls are genetically pre-‐determined to be more studious than boys (‘it is in the genes of the girls that they are hard-‐working’), but she also suggests that there is also something temporally specific about ‘girls coming to the forefront’. She repeats the phrase ‘time has changed’ three times, and several teachers offered similar explanations of how times had changed. Teachers usually attributed changes among students, whether their fondness for junk food or their online social lives, to the role of ‘the media’ over the past 10-‐20 years (i.e. post-‐liberalization India – see Chapter Two). Teachers at all the schools suggested that increased access to ‘Western’ media had led to different behavioural patterns and expectations among young people during this period. Girls’ changed aspirations and success could therefore be attributed to these ‘Westernized’ influences, along with the policy emphasis on girls’ education during this period, and the emergence of the educated, professional young woman as the ‘icon of the new India’ in popular culture and middle-‐class narratives (Dasgupta 2014: 135; Gilbertson 2014; Phadke, Khan & Ranade 2011 – see Chapter Two). According to these teachers, the combination of girls’ natural tendencies and this specific moment in time has not just led to gender equality at school, but in fact the realisation of girls’ superior academic ability and achievement.
The idea that girls are better students than boys can be linked to traditional notions of compliant femininity and wayward masculinity (the latter is discussed in 5.4), as well as the ‘silly/sensible’ dichotomy reported in schools across the world (Sharma 2014). However, girls’ superiority in the classroom can also be linked to narratives of can-‐do girlhood. The idea that girls are more academically able than boys supports the idea that modern girls can ‘get what they want and be what they want’, at school and beyond. Girls’ investment in this can-‐do narrative of girlhood, and its implications for their future aspirations, became particularly apparent during mixed FGDs.
Violet: A woman can take a decision by herself, she don’t have to ask anyone if she feel like. And so, [in] her situation, she doesn’t want that anyone feel pity on her.
(RIS Mixed Focus Group – 2) Mala: I think being self-‐dependent is the most important thing as a girl. I – if I get married, I don’t want to get married without working in any office or – because I’m, completely don’t want to depend on my husband, and on my family.
(SGS Mixed Focus Group – 1)
Violet and Mala made these comments during ‘Be Ladylike’ brainstorming activities (see Chapter Three and Appendix 7). I was struck by the girls’ emphasis on the importance of women’s independence, with Violet asserting women’s independence of thought (‘a woman can take a decision by herself’) and Mala valuing ‘self-‐dependence’ above all else for girls. Mala defines this independence in monetary terms, particularly in relation to marriage, stating that she would want a job in order to avoid financial dependence on her husband or parents. The self-‐sufficient, working women imagined by the girls clearly reflect the ‘assertive and individualised expression of power’ of a can-‐do narrative of femininity. It seemed that an investment in such narratives enabled girls to have particular, ‘modern’ expectations of their future, and to share career aspirations with the boys in their class (see Chapter Four).
However, these were not the only narratives of girlhood available to students. The influence of narratives of vulnerable femininity were most apparent in girls’ stories about their experiences at home, and the restrictions that their parents placed upon them.
Khyati: Yeah, like [my parents say], “You should be home by 8 – you should come straight to the home, without talking to or looking at anyone”. It’s like, these all, the limits we face everyday. […] One day I said to my mom, “I need to get to the photocopy shop”. […] My mother said, “You will not be going alone, your brother will accompany you”. My brother would accompany me! So […] parents don’t feel secure to send us to, ah, send us outside alone at night, due to these cases [that] have happened. They say the same thing – “Delhi’s not safe, come straight, […] come immediately after school is over, don’t take too much time after school” – all that stuff.
(CGS Girls’ Focus Group)
This story is dominated by a series of reported imperatives from Khyati’s parents, and Khyati suggests that she hears these instructions frequently (‘the limits we face everyday’, ‘they say the same thing’). Echoing my own parents’ concerns while I was in Delhi, Khyati reports her parents urging her to go straight home after school, and not allowing her to go out alone at
night. In the specific incident narrated by Khyati here, her mother draws upon assumptions relating to girls’ vulnerability by only allowing Khyati to go out with the ‘protection’ of her (younger) brother. Khyati’s incredulous repetition of her mother’s instruction (“My brother would accompany me!’) suggests she is less than impressed by this requirement. However, she explains that her parents’ concerns are specifically linked to recent cases of sexual violence (‘due to these cases [that] have happened’), and since these cases confirmed apparently irrefutable truths (‘Delhi’s not safe’), it seems that Khyati could not challenge her parents’ reasoning. In her use of the first person plural to describe the ‘limits we face every day’ and to state that ‘parents don’t feel secure to send us […] outside alone at night’, Khyati seemed to be speaking on behalf of the rest of the girls in the FGD; as fieldwork progressed, it became clear that experiences of such restrictions at home were in fact shared by almost all the girls who participated in the research.
While these narratives of vulnerable girlhood were largely confirmed by girls’ experiences at home, they were also apparent in the advice that teachers reportedly gave to girls at school.
I always tell to the girls that, “See, you always have to be alert. Alertness always has to be there. See, many times […] we are walking, we are not seeing that somebody is following us, or somebody is, you know, coming with a speed[ing] car […] Moreover there are things which you can – see if you are in a public place, you can raise an alarm, but if you are alone you immediately try to escape that lonely place, or immediately call on your mobile. So you have to use this alertness. […] You also have to see where you are going, you have to plan it out, whether it’s day and night. And you have to inform everyone, so you will be safe”.
(Counsellor ma’am, RIS – interview)
In her reported advice to RIS girls, Counsellor ma’am heavily emphasizes the importance of being alert in public spaces. She does this through oblique descriptions of potential threats (‘somebody is following us’, ‘somebody is […] coming with a speeding car’), and a list of context-‐specific actions for girls to take in order to get help. Notably, these all involve seeking help from others (‘you can raise an alarm’, ‘immediately call on your mobile’) or running away (‘try to escape that lonely place’); these are not assertive girls who can do anything, but vulnerable girls who are in danger simply by being alone in public, and who need to take appropriate precautions to ensure they are protected at all times, ‘whether it’s day [or] night’.
These narratives of vulnerable girlhood arguably became more compelling in the wake of the December 2012 case (although, as one teacher pointed out, ‘before [parents] were also worried, but now they’re more worried’; English ma’am, RIS – interview). Although many
Indian feminists have been deeply critical of international media coverage since December 2012 suggesting that sexual violence is an ‘Indian’ problem (e.g. Krishnan 2015), the idea that India is particularly unsafe for women was frequently expressed by students and teachers.
See in Indian society normally the girls are restricted right from the beginning. And their limitations are – the limitations are told, “See this is your limitations and you must not cross your limit, you must not go out of the house […]” – so that is the problem. These kind of teachings only are given. You know – right from the beginning, to the girl in India. Whether it is higher society or lower society or middle class – everywhere.
(Vice Principal sir, RIS – interview)
In this quotation, the RIS Vice Principal contextualizes girls’ vulnerability within a wider narrative of female disadvantage in Indian society. In particular, he emphasizes that girls are restricted ‘right from the beginning’ of their life in India, and that concerns about keeping girls safe lead to continued restraints (‘“you must not go out of the house”’). Importantly, he also stresses that such attitudes towards girls and women transcend class boundaries, stating that people have ‘negative’ thoughts about women in ‘higher society’, ‘lower society’, and the ‘middle class’ alike. In this claim, the Vice Principal seems to refute the implicit idea that only uneducated people might hold such views about women, an idea which students also debated.
Tornado: Ma’am I live in a village, there are so many cases like this, that ah, womens [sic] are discriminated. In many ways. This thing is true
Padmini: Like, how are they discriminated? […]
Tornado: They are not allowed to leave the house without their husbands’ permission, or without their fathers’ permission. In these cases Violet: But not only in villages, in cities also this is the condition. Like,
conservativeness Leela: Yes, conservativeness
Violet: Females are not allowed to go out.
(RIS Mixed Focus Group – 2)
In this extract, Tornado initially uses first-‐hand knowledge of his village to validate his claim that he has witnessed ‘so many cases’ of women being confined to the private sphere, and kept under the control of their fathers or husbands. Interestingly, Violet and Leela intervene to argue that such experiences are not confined to rural areas; the girls describe such practices as ‘conservative’ which, unlike the ‘traditional’ or ‘rural’ practices suggested by Tornado’s account, can more easily be imagined within an urban setting. Violet and Leela later told stories that suggested they experienced similar restrictions from their parents as Khyati at
CGS; moreover, along with many other girls who participated in the research, these girls also located their experiences within a wider narrative of female disadvantage in India.
While girls and teachers alike were invested in can-‐do narratives of high-‐achieving, independent femininity, which supported the idea that education promoted gender equality in society, narratives of vulnerable girlhood had a persistent influence at home and at school. The timescale of the research meant it was not possible to determine the extent to which these narratives of vulnerable girlhood had become more pervasive after December 2012; as Phadke, Khan & Ranade (2011) and Banerjee et al (2012) have noted, conditional access to public spaces has been a sustained feature of women’s experience in post-‐liberalization India. However, students’ and teachers’ accounts suggested that recent cases of sexual violence, which seemingly confirmed wider cultural narratives about female disadvantage in patriarchal Indian society, made fears relating to female vulnerability all the more compelling.