What do schools in India do to ensure career readiness amongst student graduates?

My guiding question was on a specific aspect of the Indian educational system. But by asking
the question, I am showing that this is something important in my own school system. The
importance of this question is based on the presumption that we have an abundance of positions
available—especially in STEM and technical fields—and it falls on the shoulders of the schools
to train and encourage our graduates. So often in our country, students decline a challenging and
rigorous program of study in favor of other fields without a direct through-line to employment.
My visit to India showed how, like many questions I had, this was ultimately the wrong question
to ask.
India’s reality is influenced by a number of factors. However (at my present understanding)
there are two which most directly impact their present educational system: The history of the
population of India; and the British act of colonization. Indians take a great pride in how ancient
and long-standing their society is. Civilizations emerged there long ago and passed down a cultural
heritage, many aspects (for better or worse) of which are alive today. However, limited land mass,
natural resources and unchecked population expansion did not just create a foundation of modern
philosophy, values and religion we can trace back thousands of years; it also set up one of the
world’s oldest and lengthiest population-dense regions. This long history of there being not enough
for too many meant that competition has been entrenched in many aspects—spoken, but especially
unspoken—in Indian life. When a people have a long history of there being barely enough to go
around, it is very uncommon to have a casual attitude toward things of true value, like land, natural
resources and education.
The British colonization of India meant a rejection of traditional educational methods and an
adoption of the British and greater European paradigms. Unlike in the more recent history of the
United States, where the structure of compulsory school has been general education for all, India
follows something closer to the British and European models of separating vocational and
technical education aside from university-preparatory schooling.
These two factors combine to mean that in India, unlike in the U.S. where there are more STEM
jobs than applicants, in India, competition for engineering, medical and government work is fierce.
There is simply no role the school need play in encouraging students to take part in those fields. If
there is anything needed, thinkers such as Chetan Bhagat suggest more of a genuine love and
passion for the career, as opposed to a dogged race towards the most stable and rewarding
profession possible.
That is not to say that India does nothing to help students. In Hyderabad, we visited a
government school whose population was principally children of seasonal workers: villagers
whose livelihoods were so dependent on family labor that children regularly had to stay home from
school to assist their parents to earn a living for the family. The young girls, who were often in the
first generation of their village to attend formal schooling, were typically most at risk. Indian
villages still frequently practice purdah, and ages of marriageability and fertility often coincide.
For a majority of the young women at this school, their eight grade of study will be the last formal
learning that they will do. Once they school, they will leave behind any independence that having
a skill or knowledge can bestow. They will be limited by their families and in-laws in their travel,
self-efficacy and autonomy because of their limited abilities and skills.
The school saw this and recognized that, while the culture of millions of humans living in
villages was beyond its control to change, they could still make a difference. At this school, they
take young women in grades seven and eight and give them special classes in trades, crafts and
marketable skills they could work outside of the village and be compensated for. This particular
education doesn’t meet its resistance from the students, but they are fighting a culture. This means
the expectations, support, ability to help young women learn a skill before they leave compulsive
schooling, all conspire against the school to give to them. Nonetheless, amongst the young women
who leave school knowing how to weave, sew or cast pottery, there is greater value to them and
they have greater independence in their village lives than if they never were given any additional
education by their schools.
It was easy as an American educator to be impressed and surprised by how seemingly diligent
and behaved the Indian students we visited were. However, visiting with the most elite Indian
students drew an immediate comparison with our most elite—as well as elite Korean, Japanese,
Chinese—students. There is an expectation they will be admitted to the most prestigious colleges
and universities, at whatever the personal cost. They are expected to take on jobs that are
competitive, stable and lucrative, regardless of their personal interest, passion, or moral compass.
This is an area that has been dramatized in films such as “Race to Nowhere” and “3 Idiots” in
recent years. There is a great deal teachers of these exceptional students can share, discuss and
learn from each other internationally. We discuss crises in disruptive technology, bioengineering
and climate change. However we must be more systematic as educators in addressing the crisis of
our most precious resource, our children, as those amongst them who will lead, are experiencing
a global crisis that needs our combined efforts to fight. This will characterize the continuing work
I do with Indian teachers as a result of my participation with Teachers for Global Classrooms.