A Teacher’s Day reflection on reverence, exclusion, and the urgent need for dignity in education
Dr. Rameez Ahmad
Teaching has always been regarded as a noble, divine, and prophetic profession. Across all religions and civilizations, the teacher occupies the most sacred position—guiding humanity towards truthfulness, kindness, humility, justice, and the courage to resist oppression, inequality, and deceit. In Hinduism, the Guru is revered as an Avtaar of God; in Bhuddism, Buddha (teacher) is one showing the truth and in Islam, the Prophet (PBUH) himself is the supreme teacher of mankind. Truly, teachers are the builders of nations. As the Kothari Commission rightly said, “The destiny of India is being shaped in her classrooms.” The Qur’an itself began
Throughout history, teachers were honored with gifts, lands, and deep respect. Kings and princes bowed before them, acknowledging their moral superiority. Aristotle and his illustrious student, Alexander the Great (Sikander), once stood by a river during their travels. Aristotle insisted on crossing first, but Alexander refused, saying: “If I survive, I remain but one Alexander. If you survive, you can create thousands of Alexanders like me. Similarly, the Abbasid Caliph Haroon al-Rashid’s sons used to respectfully place their teachers’ shoes in their proper place, considering it a great honor. Such reverence should inspire us today.
Sadly, these lofty ideals remain distant from the realities of Kashmir’s higher education system. On Teacher’s Day, social media often floods with glorifying posts, yet in practice, dignity is systematically denied. Based on my five years of teaching in HED J&K and IGNOU, I must confess that what I have witnessed is far removed from those ideals. Many so-called teachers, assistant professors, and officials indulge in nepotism, favoritism, and exclusionary practices. Contractual lecturers—who handle the maximum workload—are sidelined from seminars, evaluations lack uniformity, casteist-hierarchical attitudes persist, and some principals often instruct permanent staff to avoid interaction with contractual faculty. Rather than colleagues, contractuals are treated as “stopgaps,” their services valued only to fill classrooms. Every year, the Higher Education Department (HED) J&K appoints around 2,500 Academic Arrangement (AA) Lecturers across colleges. If these many posts are filled annually on a temporary basis, why is there no fast-track mechanism to permanently recruit faculty? Allowing PhD holders who have also cleared NET to fill these posts would not compromise education quality; on the contrary, it would strengthen both teaching standards and institutional stability
Sadly, these lofty ideals remain more of a dream than a reality in our flawed higher educational system. On Teacher’s Day, we often flood social media with posts glorifying our “Gurus,” but this tradition often feels hollow, resting on socially fabricated norms rather than genuine practice. Based on my five years of teaching experience in HED J&K and IGNOU, I must honestly confess that what I have witnessed within our system is far removed from those ideals.
Moreover, I have also observed many teachers-both permanent and contractual—freely mixing with students beyond what is academically necessary. While a teacher must indeed be approachable and friendly within the classroom, outside the classroom over-familiarity risks devaluing the dignity of the profession. Shaking hands or hugging students may look awkward, and maintaining a respectful gap is essential. No doubt, there are always some decent students; yet, when boundaries blur, others often misuse the opportunity—cracking unnecessary jokes, attempting over-casual gestures, or even putting their arms around teachers’ shoulders. Such behavior must be objected to, for it undermines the sacred teacher-student relationship that should always rest on respect, not casual familiarity.
The pain of these realities is best reflected in the voices of those at the receiving end.
One Academic Arrangement (AA) Lecturer shared: “When I was teaching in Bemina and Sopore, I would often learn about college seminars only through my students. Some even told me, ‘Sir, perhaps you are not allowed to attend.’ I felt ashamed hearing this.”
Another AA-Lecturer recounted: “Some principals direct permanent staff not to visit contractual staff rooms or maintain friendly interaction with us. Many permanent teachers treat their academic position as a personal privilege rather than a public trust.”
A third Lecturer, from Baramulla added: “Discriminatory behavior often manifests in humiliating ways: AA lecturers being taunted before students, asked to maintain registers on behalf of permanent staff, or denied access to the library and forced to stay idle in the department after delivering classes. Attendance is rarely taken seriously, with many teachers hardly maintaining records-yet grading students arbitrarily. During exams, favoritism becomes glaring when some teachers casually converse with their ‘special’ students inside exam halls or openly demand leniency for their relatives in internal exams. These practices do not merely erode academic ethics; they poison the very soul of education.”
This culture of hierarchy and favoritism has inevitably trickled down to the student body. Increasingly, students prefer to skip classes, finding little motivation in a system where attendance is poorly monitored and marks are randomly allocated, where it takes months to recruit contractual faculty again and again, year after year. Many prefer leisure over learning-spending time in parks making reels rather than attending classrooms. Such indifference, however, is not just the fault of students-it reflects systemic failures and a toxic culture that have disillusioned both learners and teachers alike.
“Contractual Assistant Professors in Kashmir not only struggle for dignified titles, UGC-based salaries, job security, full-year employment, and basic benefits like leaves, pension, emoluments, promotions and rewards that regular faculty enjoy. They also bear the crushing weight of a hierarchy and casteist mentality that extends far beyond the classroom—into families, among relatives, on our streets, and across society at large. At the root of it all lie faulty policies and indifferent education authorities. Indeed, history will remember them”.
The situation has reached an alarming stage in J&K. For nearly two months now, colleges have functioned without adequate faculty. Students of the first, third, and fifth semesters privately confess their helplessness: “We are forced to remain silent, yet pay full fees. To save our poor fathers’ fare, we often prefer staying at home. But when compelled to attend, we sit idle in empty classrooms or pass time making reels in parks. Unfortunately this happens every year” Such voices of despair reflect not indiscipline, but the structural vacuum created by neglect
In contrast, my experiences outside Kashmir—at AMU, JMI, JNU, UOH, and at academic conferences-were refreshingly different. Professors there were approachable, humble, and encouraging of questions. They welcomed dialogue, valued younger faculty, and treated teaching as a shared mission rather than a personal fiefdom. Such examples remind us that change is possible.
It is high time we overhaul our educational system. Respect for teachers must not be confined to empty greetings on Teacher’s Day celebrations but should be built into the very structure of our institutions. Scholars-especially those who contribute through research, publications, and intellectual mentorship—deserve recognition, dignity, and equality. The practice of labeling teachers with demeaning titles like “need-based” must end immediately. Even addressing contractual lecturers respectfully as Assistant Professors would be a small but meaningful step. Renaming alone cannot transform roles, but restoring dignity is the first step toward reform. Their services must be formally acknowledged and fairly compensated. Decent UGC-based salaries, full-year employment, or regularization of services can be positive steps. Those who hold regular PhDs from reputed universities without leave (based on UGC Regulations 2016), while also serving for more than three or four years of teaching, having cleared UGC NET can be considered for the upcoming regularization drive (having more than seven years of experience-under Special provisions ACT -2010). This will not only open doors of employment for meritorious PhD NET holders but also help the government effectively fill long-term faculty vacancies in J&K’s higher education sector.
Moreover, teachers must be judged on the basis of honesty, truthfulness, ethical accountability, fairness, and integrity—not on the contractual-permanent dichotomy. Students must be encouraged to provide honest feedback, and contractual faculty should also be considered for rewards just like permanent ones.
The time has come to bridge the gap between reverence and reality. Teacher’s Day should no longer be an annual celebration of ideals; it must be a turning point for transformation. If teachers are truly prophets of knowledge, then no one among them should remain a prisoner of hierarchy.Only then can we ensure that the light of teaching-passed from Socrates to Radhakrishnan, from the Prophet (PBUH) to today’s classrooms-does not flicker in the shadows of neglect. Teachers deserve more than words; they deserve justice.
Dr. Rameez Ahmad is a former Senior Research Fellow in Sociology from Aligarh Muslim University. He can be reached at rameezln777@gmail.com
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