[dropcap]I[/dropcap]n my earlier column, Illusions of Progress, I explored how many Muslim-managed schools in Kolkata and its neighbouring districts have traded purpose for power — valuing control, prestige, and mimicry over real learning. But there is another side to the story, one that is less comfortable to discuss and even harder to confront. Schools are not failing in isolation; a significant part of the problem lies in our own homes — in the attitudes, priorities, and financial habits of parents and guardians.
In many Muslim households across this part of India, a troubling but often unspoken reality shapes children’s academic performance — the casual attitude towards schooling. Once a child is admitted, whether in a Muslim-managed school, a Christian missionary institution, or any other setup, many parents believe their role is complete. The day-to-day environment at home — bedtimes, distractions, and priorities — becomes a blind spot. A late-night wedding, an extended visit from relatives, or an unplanned amusement outing might seem harmless, but its impact is visible in the classroom the next morning. Students arrive underprepared, homework incomplete, revision neglected, and in some cases, still struggling to shake off sleep. This is not an isolated pattern; it is a structural issue that erodes the benefits of schooling, no matter how dedicated the teachers or well-resourced the institution.
We are quick to criticise school management for underpaying teachers, imposing monopolies on books and uniforms, or reducing education to optics. But we seldom ask: are we, as a community, doing our part? Or are we silently contributing to the same decay we lament? Many parents demand “world-class” education but refuse to cooperate with schools on the basics — attendance, homework, discipline, and respectful communication with teachers and management.
In recent years, many school founders in our community have stepped forward with rare courage — determined to offer mainstream, modern education blended with an Islamic identity that is fully protected under the Constitution of India. This model aims to give children both the academic tools to thrive in a competitive world and the moral grounding of their faith.
When Parents Overstep: The Erosion of Boundaries
From my sessions with teachers and school management, I have heard sincere concerns. Parents today often have little regard for the privacy of teachers and management. They call or WhatsApp at any hour — early morning, late night — demanding immediate responses. If monsoon rains cause waterlogging in the entire neighbourhood, they still expect the school to “fix” it instantly, as if the campus were somehow immune to geography.
Even school calendars become points of endless dispute. If a school operates Monday to Friday, some parents insist on Saturday classes, while others pull their children out for the wedding of a distant cousin, a family gathering, or an unplanned outing. The message is clear: flexibility is demanded from the school, but rarely reciprocated at home.
Skipping the Bridge: The Neglect of PTMs
And then there are Parent-Teacher Meetings (PTMs) — designed to bridge the gap between home and school. Many parents wilfully skip them, citing “work pressure” or “no time,” yet these same parents manage to attend social events, shopping trips, or ceremonies. They forget that PTMs are not a favour to the school but an investment in their child’s progress. The schools I have observed charge between Rs 800 and Rs 2,500 a month. For many families, this is seen as a heavy expense, yet spending on weddings, festive wardrobes, frequent dining out, and the latest smartphones is rarely questioned. The issue is not simply a lack of resources; it is misplaced priorities.
Another damaging trend is the “I pay, therefore I own” mentality. In many private schools, fee payment creates a sense of entitlement, where teachers are treated as service providers rather than partners in a child’s development. If a child performs poorly, parents rarely ask, “What more can we do from our side?” Instead, they demand that the school “fix” the problem. This transactional view strips education of its ethical dimension.
The parental race to “stay ahead” has reached toxic levels. Even four-year-olds are now expected to “master everything” in school and return home with piles of homework, as though childhood were an entrance exam. This, too, is tied to a deeper social problem: the inability of adults to detach from mobile screens. If a child does not have homework, then the easiest “solution” for a restless child becomes handing over a phone or tablet — effectively outsourcing parenting to algorithms. In the long run, both curiosity and discipline suffer. A recurring theme in my interactions with school leaders is that many parents prioritise their comfort over the needs of the school and teachers.
From Community Lifeline to Costly Commitment
A century ago, Muslim educational pioneers in Bengal did not build schools to compete with elite institutions or to advertise on billboards. They built them as community lifelines — funded, managed, and morally supported by the neighbourhood. Now, many guardians fail to grasp a simple truth: running a school is not a charity project anymore; it is a constant financial commitment. Quality education costs money because it demands real investment — safe buildings, proper facilities, reliable utilities, and above all, fair salaries for qualified teachers. The Constitution’s Article 21A makes elementary education the State’s duty, but when the State fails, others must step in. And when they do, they deserve our support, not our suspicion.
Yet school managements often feel helpless when parents delay paying fees — sometimes for as long as six months. Those from business backgrounds, in particular, often treat school fees like business transactions, settling them only when their clients pay. Some guardians who once helped in setting up the school feel entitled to bend the rules, using that “past favour” as leverage. When the management tries to enforce discipline or implement policies, such guardians are quick to threaten, boasting that they can “bring the school to its knees.”
The school can succeed only if parents treat education as a shared responsibility and not as a purchased service. Teachers can inspire, guide, and discipline, but they cannot replace the influence of home. Without parental involvement, even the best schools will become day-care centres with textbooks.
