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Five years ago, Ashraf scrapped her career with a financial services
firm to launch Pravah, a New Delhi-based organization that trains high
school and college students to confront conditioned values and
stereotypes, expands their awareness of social issues and gives them
the leadership skills needed to tackle pressing social problems. Pravah
concentrated on students from the urban elite, because they are more
likely to become decision makers in the government and corporate sectors.
Further, it was in this stratum of society that Ashraf most often
encountered biases, cultural blocks and arrogance that blocked a
view of larger social realities. India's educational system is capable
of churning out highly trained students who nonetheless are "maladjusted
to the needs of society and the nation," Ashraf said. "They go abroad
for further education, and even win Nobel prizes. Those who stay in
India huddle together in small pockets, bewildered and disgusted with
the realities that they face every day." Pravah helps train future
decision makers to "prevent social conflict from taking place" rather
than respond to crises in an ineffective, post hoc manner, Ashraf said.
Success Brings Expansion
Having achieved a significant degree of success with urban youths, Pravah
is expanding its outreach to low-income youths. It also returning
full circle to its origins by launching AND (Aquiring New Dimensions), a
program that intends to bridge a gap in understanding between young
managers in the corporate sector and their counterparts in the
non-profit sector. Projects pursued by managers in both the private and
non-profit sectors would benefit from the knowledge and perspectives of
their counterparts, Ashraf said.
AND will provide a forum where participants can exchange ideas and
examine their stereotypes of each other. It will also give young
executives opportunities to learn through exposure to villages and urban
slums.
Ashraf was fortunate to grow up in a privileged class and to
be encouraged to think for herself. Her father, a civil engineer and a
Muslim, and her mother, a former college professor and a Hindu, allowed
her to develop her own sense of spirituality.
"The independence and freedom to not follow either of those religions
gave me an understanding, when I was very young, that we can move out of
the boxes that we have created for ourselves," Ashraf said. Many of
the problems we face are caused by "people in different boxes who cannot
see beyond their own frames."
Ashraf received a post-graduate degree, specializing in human resource
development, from the prestigious Xavier Labour Relations Institute in
Jamshedpur, and then worked as a human resources manager for SRF
Finance, and most recently Escorts Financial Services Ltd. in New
Delhi. She became one of just three women in a group of
30 senior managers. At times she jeopardized her position by
challenging policies she thought unjust, like biases against
recruiting women or members of certain communities, and limitations on
the types of jobs available to women.
The Price of Wisdom
Ashraf found that many of her colleagues, though highly regarded
professionals, were close-minded and failed to comprehend her efforts to
change the workplace. "A lot of people told me I had made a fool out of
myself," she recalls.
In 1992, the tranquility of her honeymoon on an island retreat was
shattered by communal rioting back home after Hindu fundamentalists
demolished the Babri Mosque in Ayodhya, Uttar Pradesh. Ashraf
returned to Delhi and began working with neighborhood and city
organizations to promote religious tolerance.
From this experience, she derived two lessons. First, before you can
make headway on a single issue like religious intolerance, you must
address more fundamental attitudes about life and humanity. Second,
she discovered that among her peers, "you can't work with people who
have already arrived that is, typically, adults who are doing very
well for themselves, who have got everything made for them. Now, they
don't want to change."
Ashraf found she could work most effectively with adolescents and
college students, who were ready to step out from the shadow of their
families' influence, but whose attitudes and position in society had not
completely set. With three colleagues, Ashraf launched Pravah, which
means "flow," during the summer of 1993, offering workshops for high
school students.
Success led to word-of-mouth referrals to several other high schools,
which now offer the Pravah program called VIDYA (Voluntary Initiative
Towards Development of Youth Action). It employees professional
development techniques, beginning with a focus on self-actualization, in
a three-phase program.
From Wanting Change to Bringing Change
The first phase, called "Let's Get Out of Our Shells," is the critical
component, after which "the rest of the program just kind of falls into
place," Ashraf said. Exercises help students develop self-confidence and
self-esteem, so they can move from a desire to change things (which
is not uncommon) to an ability to influence their environment (which is
much less common).
In one exercise, students split into two groups with opposing
opinions on an issue, for example, "Violence is justified for a good cause."
Or they can join a neutral group if they are uncertain about their
position. The students are encouraged to examine, clarify, justify,
articulate and argue their positions. In an exercise called "Myth
Blasting and Breaking Stereotypes," they "get into the other person's
Shoes" by understanding and arguing for the other side's opinion.
"I strongly believe that this peer influence is much more significant
than the influence that comes out of some kind of power relationship,"
like parent-child or teacher-child, Ashraf said. "This process produces
a positive peer influence that carries the whole group through toward
a set of positive values, such as equality, justice, and freedom."
Those holding an extreme position at the outset of a workshop are
unlikely to change their point of view, Ashraf said, "but I am really
concerned about those guys who are on the fence who
haven't made up their mind, or who made up their mind without
thinking or working out their logic. They don't need to join either
of the opposing sides, but they are encouraged to move if
just one inch one way or the other. If we can affect those guys, I
think we have done a significant job."
Leaving Room for Fun
The second phase, "Together We Move," focuses on social skills,
including building team-spirited leadership and respect for others.
Following the development of personal strengths and social skills, the
third phase, called "We are the World," encourages students to broaden
their concerns by examining social issues. In this phase, high
school students take field trips to urban organizations, and they can
attend seven-day Friendship Udankhatola FUN camps, where workshops are
mixed with activities like theater, filmmaking and ecology and
heritage walks.
School children produced posters for the 1997 "Big Shout" festival, during which they used music, song, theater, and art to fight pollution in Delhi
Until recently, high schools have adopted and paid for Pravah's program as
part of their regular curriculum, required of all students. This allows
Pravah to leverage schools' resources, including the teachers and
classroom space, so the program is self-sustaining and can be
expanded to other schools. "We do it for two years, their teachers can
get trained, and then we get out," Ashraf said. Pravah relies on school
principals to hand-pick teachers who are in tune with Pravah.
An adult facilitator plays a critical role by throwing out questions to
provoke an in-depth debate. "If you see them getting into a box, then
you throw another question, which forces them to look at it a little bit
more," Ashraf said. But the facilitator must resist the temptation to
steer participants toward a set of values or conclusions, so that the
students can learn to work things out for themselves.
From College Campus to Village Work
At the college level, Pravah has found it is simpler to work directly
with students, independent of the college administration. Students are
attracted to Pravah's no-credit college program, SMILE
(Students Mobilization Initiative for Learning Through Exposure), by
street theater performances on topical issues, followed by a workshop
that offers a life skill like problem solving. "We want people to
know that working to contribute to society also means doing something
for yourself," Ashraf said.
After completing the same type of workshop used at high
schools and completing 40 hours of voluntary work, college
students are sent to work on their own in a village or with a
non-profit organization during the summer holiday. This plunge into an
environment far removed from the familiar comforts of urban
society and culture is followed by a period of reflection, during which
the students share experiences and ponder how they will connect and
apply their experiences to their everyday lives.
The exposure sensitizes students to social issues and to the perspectives
and needs of different types of persons, and helps them understand
how to work with limited resources. "They are dealing with very
marginalized people, and with issues such as poverty, deforestation and
big dams," Ashraf said.
The exposure provides a glimpse of opportunities in the non-profit
sector as an often overlooked alternative to the standard career tracks
in business, science and government. But Pravah emphasizes that
participants need not become social workers in order to make a
positive difference, wherever their lives lead them.
"One student wanted to become an architect, and after having gone
through one of these exposure programs he said, 'What I am doing? I
just basically want to give up everything and start working in a
village.' It was difficult to deal with, because we didn't know if it
was one of those instant things: you go through a dramatic
experience and you want to change your life the next day." Ultimately,
the student elected to complete his studies, and he has been working to
develop low-cost housing.
A Sometimes Awkward Intersection
With Pravah's guidance, students choose their experience from
some 80 non-profit organizations that Pravah has selected to cover a
wide range. Prior to their departure, they participate
in briefings and role-playing exercises designed to pre-empt
some of the frictions that can occur when students meet and work with rural
residents. Pravah also does some advance work with village children to
prepare them for the impact of the urban students with "all of their
consumerism," Ashraf said.
The adjustment process can be difficult. In a few cases, students have
misbehaved in their villages, or treated the experience as
a holiday, failing to complete their assignments. In another case, a
student was "so disturbed by the experience that she couldn't deal with
it," Ashraf said. "She just decided one day that she's not going to
wear slippers and is going to sleep on the floor. She wanted to carry
that life back into her own context, which actually didn't apply, and
created more problems here."
In such cases, Pravah staff members try to help students integrate their
experiences into their lives. But in general Ashraf's approach to career
choices, for example, is hands off, perhaps offering alternatives
while letting the student and family sort things out for themselves.
After three years of relying on a "gut feeling that we were making a
difference," based on feedback from students and parents, Pravah needed
a more rigorous test of its achievements. It has implemented a standard
psychological test for high school students that has measured a 65.7
percent positive change in attitudes towards life and humanity:
self-confidence, desire to make a difference, leadership ability, creative
problem solving. "When we started the program, we said even if
there is a 30 percent change in the first part of the program, well be
quite satisfied," Ashraf said. "So for us, this figure is quite
significant."
No Quick Fix
Critical questions remain about ongoing support and how to expand the
program. Pravah's resources are limited. A staff of six versatile staff
members, coming from a broad range of professional backgrounds (psychologist,
theater professional, disability specialist), run the
office, produce theater programs, do training in the schools.
Pravah has had difficulty finding schools that will allocate money or
clear time in a1ready crowded curricula. "They give us very little time, so
they don't really get into our scheme of things," Ashraf said.
"They want it fast it's like a quick fix for them."
In some cases, Pravah has avoided expanding to schools that want to
change the nature of its program. The very fact that attendance in
school programs is compulsory may conflict with the notion of letting
students think for themselves, and in some cases schools limit students'
creativity or freedom. These factors have led Pravah to focus
expansion on voluntary programs outside the high school
system.
Working outside the school system offers several other advantages,
Ashraf said. It gives Pravah direct access to students' families. "And in a
way, it also makes us work harder to keep a certain standard to be a
little professional about it," Ashraf said. "The demands on us will be
higher."
Pravah is building support for this approach by creating an independent
forum for school social workers, who are invited to
share their values, ideals and experiences and to
develop programs for urban schools based on the Pravah model.
Pravah's college programs are a mirror of this situation. They are
entirely independent of college administrations and are supported with
funding from the Indo-German Social Service Society. But Pravah is
testing the opposite approach at a college that has made Pravah's
SMILE program a part of its regular curriculum.
Seeking Links to Government, Too
Despite some misgivings about taking government funds, Ashraf believes
Pravah needs to try involvement with a government-sponsored program at
the college level. "When you want to do things differently and you
want to be more creative, there is a tendency to stay away from all
public programs, because you think they are not as creative, or don't
give students that much space," she said. But by doing so, Pravah runs
the risk of being isolated and ignored by the networks and partnerships
in government circles. Although government resources may come with strings
attached, "if we are not tapping them, then I don't think we are using our
opportunities effectively."
Pravah is preparing to expand its mission to include a program for
low-income youth who do not have access
to college but may be enrolled in a diploma program. Pravah
is devising an entirely new curriculum for this, aimed at
"first-generation learners" whose parents are not schooled.
Pravah plans to expand its programs at the college level by leveraging
the experience of high school students who have moved on to college
after participating in the VIDYA program. It is tracking these
students, and will encourage them to establish their own SMILE programs
in their colleges, thereby forging a link between the VIDYA and SMILE
programs. "We want to set up SMILE centers in at least 20 colleges in
the next three to four years," Ashraf said.
While pursuing an ambitious agenda, Ashraf's role in Pravah is evolving
away from being the person in sole charge. "For a long time, I was both
the peon and chief executive," she said. "I was handling everything
from decisions about what time tea has to come to deciding which
programs to implement. Fortunately, I think I am now slowly becoming
dispensable."
Pravah's mission has been to help young people make a difference in
their own context. "Now we will try to expand that context," Ashraf
said. If a student thinks his context is only his neighborhood or
college, Pravah will try to expand it, perhaps to the city level. "Our
job is to constantly expand that context," Ashraf said. "I think we
will have achieved our goal if the youngsters we work with begin to look
at the entire world as something we must protect and work for."
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