From dismantling rigid traditions to prioritising mental health and critical thinking, a young student envisions a transformative shift in school systems where learning is rooted in humanity, curiosity, and true well-being
What if the power to change the entire school system rested in your hands for a day? What vision would you set forth for the world to follow? Will you bring any sort of revolution? These random but consistent thoughts would often occupy my mind. I was eight years old the first time I declared war on my school principal, not in the literal sense, of course, but in the silent, stubborn mind of a child who couldn’t understand why school felt more like a prison with a bell than a place of wonder. I remember standing at the last of the line in the assembly ground, squinting up at the elevated stage where the principal stood like a monarch, speaking rules, enforcing silence, commanding obedience.“If I were the principal, none of this would exist”, I quipped to myself. My eight-year-old rebellion was innocent, yet fierce.
In my utopian schooling system, the uniforms would disappear. Morning timing would be late, and mornings would begin not with drills and discipline, but with music, laughter, maybe even a little bit of chocolate. The teachers wouldn’t scold-they would listen. Exams? Gone. Instead, students would play, create, debate and rest when they were tired.
But what haunted me even more was the concept of homework. Not sure how factual it is, as a child, I once overheard a teacher saying that homework was first introduced as a punishment for disobedient students- a tool to teach discipline, not to deepen learning. That fact rooted inside my young but restless brain.“If homework began as a punishment, why are we all still being punished?” the question I wanted to ask my teachers, but couldn’t, thinking that I might look disobedient or invite unwanted labels.
I imagined myself walking down those same corridors, not in polished shoes and stiff formals, but in sneakers and a hoodie, just like kids in cartoons, high-fiving kids, removing restrictions and turning school into a sanctuary. A School run not on fear but on freedom.
Now, as a grown-up girl who understands the world not just through emotions but vast experience, I often smile at those childhood dreams. Yes, they were pure but naïve too. Because being a principal isn’t about abolishing rules; it’s about understanding why those rules exist and then reshaping them with wisdom.
The truth is, being a principal is no playground fantasy. It’s a position of tremendous responsibility where every decision ripples across hundreds of lives-students, teachers, parents and staff. The principal is not just managing the school but shaping a generation.
Rulebook Remix
If I were a principal for the day, my first move wouldn’t be to remove uniforms-it would be to reinforce them. Not just for the students but for the teachers as well. Why? Because uniforms represent equality. They dissolve layers of wealth, fashion and class that often separate students from one another and, more subtly, teachers from their own students and other colleagues.
There should be no elite class- neither among students, nor among teachers. True education cannot exist in a hierarchy. A school should be a space where everyone walks on equal ground, where respect is earned by integrity, not income or social status.
And yet, the real transformation wouldn’t stop with attire. I would create a dedicated mental health and student counselling room- not a decorative space but a safe, private and professionally supported zone where students could speak freely without judgement. Because behind every quiet child is a storm waiting to be understood
In many schools, students suffer silently, misunderstood by parents, misread by teachers, and mislabeled by peers. If such spaces existed widely in our schools, then perhaps films like Taare Zameen Par would be unnecessary. We wouldn’t need stories to awaken society to the struggles of differently-abled or emotionally distressed children- we’d already be listening.
And this isn’t a personal opinion- it’s a silent crisis backed by real data and neuroscience. The majority of the students seeking counselling are teenagers- school-going adolescents who feel emotionally neglected, unheard and misunderstood at home.
Take, for instance, the daily school assembly- a tradition so deeply rooted that no one dares to question it. But it must be questioned. Because in the scorching heat of Indian summers, hundreds of students stand packed under the burning sun, eyes blinded by sharp light, uniforms clinging to their skin, teachers dictating orders and no shade in sight.
Photophobia is real. Dehydration is a concern. Headaches are a routine. And still, we treat morning assemblies like a ritual instead of re-evaluating them for what they’ve become: a test of physical endurance, not intellectual or emotional discipline.
How can a child focus on trigonometry or Shakespeare when they’ve started their day dizzy, nauseous and burnt out even before the classes begin? Instead of conducting assemblies under the scorching sun in the school ground, they should be held inside auditoriums or open halls. This simple change can significantly improve students’ well-being.
Morning assemblies are essential for instilling moral values, discipline and a sense of unity among students. They offer an opportunity to reflect, pray and mentally prepare for the day. However, when held under harsh sunlight, they often result in photophobia, headaches, dizziness, nausea and early burnout, especially during hot weather. By moving assemblies indoors or to shaded areas, schools can ensure that students receive the intended spiritual and moral nourishment without compromising their physical health or energy levels for the rest of the day.
Tradition is not sacred if it sacrifices well-being. And while we’re addressing the overlooked, let’s talk about the people no one talks about- the cleaners, sweepers, guards and support staff. They are the first to arrive and the last to leave. They clean up after thinking that they make the space livable, yet we act as if they’re invisible.
If we want our children to become decent and compassionate human beings, they must be taught that respect doesn’t come with a job title- it comes with being human. A truly educated child will not just score marks-they will acknowledge people. All people. Equally.
But at the core of it all – beneath the assemblies, uniforms, the missed counselling and the silent hierarchy – lies a far deeper wound which is teaching children what to think, but not how to think. In most classrooms, rote learning has become the golden standard. Children are taught to memorise, regurgitate and forget. Knowledge becomes a temporary tool for passing a test-not a lifelong companion for understanding the world.
Concepts are skimmed. Curiosity is crushed. Creativity is sidelined, and all that remains is a hollow victory of a good mark sheet that means nothing six months later.
We need to flip the system
Replace rote with real learning. Teach children the “why” behind the “what”. Show them how to build connections, ask questions, think critically and permit them to explore ideas instead of fearing wrong answers.
Because education is not the art of stuffing memory; it is the fire of illumination. And that fire can’t survive in a system that values obedience more than originality.
Similarly, homework plays a crucial role in reinforcing classroom learning. It acts as a form of repetition, helping students revise and retain the concepts taught during lessons. Regular homework not only deepens understanding but also builds a habit of consistency. It trains the mind to stay disciplined and focused, which ultimately reduces procrastination.
Over time, this consistent practice strengthens a student’s ability to manage time and workload – an essential skill, especially for those aiming to appear in the competitive exams in higher classes. By taking homework seriously, students develop a study rhythm that stays with them throughout their academic journey.
So, if I ever do become a principal- even for just one day, I won’t waste that day handing out trophies or cutting ceremonial ribbons. I’ll spend that day shaking the ground beneath the system. Because real education is not about control – It’s about liberation.
And if one day of honest leadership can make even one child feel seen, safe and inspired, then, maybe just maybe, that day would be worth a lifetime.
The writer is a Class 11th student of GHSS Zadibal
Sheikh Fatima Altaf
fa*****************@***il.com