Shibpur: Teaching, Teachers and the Taught

Originally published 19 September, 2022 in Shahityika

Almost every issue of Shahityika has anecdotes about our professors. Some stories describe their generosity, while others speak of their knowledge, commitment, or humility. Even some family members of our faculty have written beautifully about their family life in the campus. Those stories are rich and humbling. I remember on one occasion, a few of us from various departments had gone to a small book fair in campus. One of our friends, a top student from the Electrical department was with us, and a handful of professors were there too. When our friend from Electrical was browsing a book, a professor from the Electrical department saw him and commented, “Don’t buy that book. The University will gift it to you when you finish BE at the top of your class.” The affection between the teacher and the taught was palpable, but such goodwill and affection were not uncommon. There were many more examples. We heard numerous stories of our batchmates or seniors approaching professors for advice, recommendations for jobs, admissions, etc. every single time that affection came through. One theme that reverberates through most of those anecdotal accounts is that we were lucky to have such educators in Shibpur, teaching was a cause for most of them. That is why the students took away a lot more than merely a BE degree.

Those individual anecdotes are real and those should be celebrated, but perhaps there is a larger context as well. The committed professors we had in Shibpur represented a system. A long tradition of teaching is manifested through our professors in our classrooms. We should celebrate and support that system and tradition as well. Those of us that benefited from it owe it to the institute and to the next generation. As Shahityika becomes more popular its role could morph into a virtual mouthpiece for a broad range of issidues related to BE College.

Folks from our 1983 batch are either retired or nearing retirement, but many from my class do still remember the Strength of Materials class taught by Prof. D. Sengupta in our second year. His stress and strain diagrams on the board were his wonderful works of teaching art. My own memories of Prof Nandi’s Structural Analysis class or Prof Chakraborty’s Concrete Design classes are equally vivid in my mind. We have heard similar stories about other great professors from our friends in the Electrical, Electronics, Architecture, Mechanical, Mining, or Metallurgical Engineering departments. The examples abound. Clearly, we were lucky to have had such high- quality education. Because of the low level of fees and other expenses a wider cross-section of students even from the backwaters of Bengal could come to Shibpur those days. As a result, we saw the diversity of backgrounds, income levels, and life experiences, that enhanced the campus experience. Many of us got our first lessons of humility in Shibpur.

All our great professors came out of a tradition of giving their very best, pouring their hearts into teaching. Many of them probably saw teaching as a calling and not as a job. Not just that, but most of them were great role models. Many were alumni of BE College, so we could easily identify with them. All these factors went into that potent mix that created a uniquely enduring learning environment that endured for over a century. It did not happen by chance.

When I was asked to write for this issue of Shahityika on teachers, I sought permission from the editors to depart from the trodden path of individual anecdotal accounts involving our professors. I decided instead to focus on the system our professors helped build and the culture they helped cultivate. If we benefited from it so immensely, we should help support it for future students. Shahityika could provide us a platform for exchanging ideas. I had been fortunate to participate in a few projects like the Alumni Seminar initiative through the Global Alumni Association. Through that program, we attempted to enrich the curricular space by bringing in new seminar topics from fields afar in which former students might be involved.

Over the years, I had also interacted with some ex-Principals and the placement department, while conducting campus interviews for Wipro. When suggestions for curricular improvements were made, those were heard. The pace of improvements might have been slower than expected, but it was a good beginning. Like those examples, if we think through each one of us can come up with ideas, there could be many different areas. I hope the readers of Shahityika wouldn’t mind my attempt to raise these topics in this teacher’s issue.

Teachers and teaching are inextricably linked, but they are not the same. In a campus setting like Shibpur, the interplay between the two could be like individualism vs. collectivism. The teaching tradition represented that collective enterprise that made sure that the learning had consistency, integrity, and value campus-wide, regardless of who delivered it, or which department owned the curriculum. We should celebrate our teachers in Shibpur for the teaching they crafted and delivered to every batch. A focus on teaching allows us to broaden the expression of gratitude compared to individual anecdotes. I opted for broadening this discussion for another reason. Individual anecdotes have a short shelf-life typically ending in a couple of pages of Shahityika or a similar publication. On the other hand, if we discuss teaching and the system that delivered it, it could generate more constructive dialogue. It could engage the readers, they could in turn support that system that made an impact in their lives. This aspect of our campus experience remains below the radar, not written or talked about. I have often wondered why that is the case.

Compared to other institutes of similar importance, alumni engagement in teaching remains low in Shibpur. One of the goals of this article is to encourage alumni engagement in the curricular space, please see this as a call-to-action. The idea behind this article is not to undermine the anecdotal accounts, the idea is to emphasize that we should also help sustain that teaching culture and tradition – in addition to individual anecdotes, not in lieu of those. Learning in Shibpur campus happened inside and outside the classroom - through role modeling, through the culture and the value system that permeated the campus. From its start as the Civil Engineering College in 1856 to its 2014 incarnation as IIEST, our institute has changed a lot, but all along that epic journey it remained focused on educating students regardless of their family background, income level, caste, skin color, and religion. Clearly, generations of teachers played a role in maintaining that enduring legacy. This is a small attempt to acknowledge that collective effort and seek support to sustain it.

The teaching that was delivered to us through our professors went beyond the specific technical disciplines, those teachings informed our minds, influenced our thinking, and helped develop the value system that we carried with us. Our teachers were a critical part of a unique learning delivery system. They made it work. As a result, most of us carried a lot more than a B.E. degree with us when we left Shibpur.

Before writing this article, I did a short survey on WhatsApp. In that survey I asked my 1983 batch friends to name their take-aways from BE College. Some said they learned humility, many said they became more confident, others said they were endowed with lifelong friendships. Most agreed that they took away much more than a BE Degree from Shibpur campus. While that realization was universal, the desire to engage with the alma mater was not. That implicit gratitude did not readily translate into meaningful actions toward helping the institution to sustain its academic legacy, hence this call-to-action article.

As a community we could do more. Higher education is largely Government funded enterprise in India, as a result, many of us tend to take much of it for granted. Our curricular activities were heavily subsidized, so we were required to pay very low fees. On top of that many of us had scholarships, so the financial strains on our families were reduced further. In my own case, I became acutely aware of the difference in expenses only when I compared those in IIT Madras and later when I compared college expenses as a parent of my sons. As a percentage of income, college expenses rank high in most places, perhaps among the highest in the US. In short, what we paid for and what we got in return in Shibpur was of incredible value. I think we should do our best to support a system that delivered such value.

When our batch landed in Shibpur in the middle of 1979, most of us did not have any templates in mind for teaching or teachers. Our minds were like empty slates. Those of us who came with a lower middle-class background, were a bit more clueless. A few came from more affluent family backgrounds, might have been slightly better prepared, but even their templates were not fully formed. Most of us did not know that we didn’t know. But the more important lesson is - we did not have to know. Somebody had already done the thinking for us, the system worked well for more than a century! It is not that straightforward in many other universities, even in the West. In the formative years of our lives, in more ways than one, our teachers, seniors and the campus culture shaped our world views. Our teachers probably played the most important role. Sometimes their influencing was overt, in the visible spectrum, sometimes it was not. But as a community, slowly and subtly, they influenced our value systems, taught us how to interpret the language of the real world.

The argument in the article might appear more compelling if we try to think of a scenario where the system had not worked so well. For example, what would have happened if that same education was ten times more expensive or if there was political interference in academics or if the admission was influenced by religion or caste or ethnicity. If any or all those scenarios played out many of us would have been in a different place now. I, for sure, could not have realized my dream of becoming an engineer. I would like to take this opportunity to request the readers of Shahityika to think about this issue and ponder how each one could make a difference.

That would be a great way to pay respect to our teachers.

Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn.

-Benjamin Franklin