In the evolving landscape of education, the vision of inclusivity often stands as a beacon of hope and progress. Corbett and Slee (2000) encapsulate this ideal by positing a transformative notion: “Within an inclusive education dialogue there is a plurality of voices devoid of existing hierarchies of status and privilege.” This assertion challenges conventional paradigms, envisioning a learning environment where diversity is not merely acknowledged but celebrated, and where every voice, regardless of its origin or status, contributes equally to the collective discourse. In such a setting, the barriers that once segregated students based on their backgrounds or abilities dissolve, giving rise to a harmonious and egalitarian educational experience. However, this dialogue-driven approach is still a far-fetched dream for students in areas where marginalisation affects the workings of the society. The objective of the paper is to critically examine the layers of marginalisation depicted in the Bollywood film Hichki. Film and visual media have wielded significant influence in shaping and spreading ideas. Popular culture often serves as a mirror to society, making it logical to analyze movies as they reflect societal norms and values. By reinforcing prevalent themes and issues, popular culture plays a crucial role in assessing societal dynamics, offering insights into how people learn and adapt from these portrayals; making films like Bollywood’s Hichki valuable tools for analysis. The narrative of the film Hichki centres around a teacher with a speech disability who faces significant challenges in securing a teaching position. Ultimately, she is hired by an elite private school, only to be assigned to teach students from a slum area, admitted under Section 12(c) of India’s Right to Education Act.
The film initially highlights the discrimination faced by a qualified teacher due to her disability emphasising societal perceptions that often equate disability with a sub-human state. This raises the question: does this pervasive perception absolve society from its role in shaping the experiences of disabled individuals? Disability is thus framed as a social construct—a cultural lens through which the world is interpreted. Cinema and visual media are particularly influential in reinforcing this construct. Laudan Aron and Pamela Loprest, in their scholarly work, write, “Improving the system will require better ways of understanding and measuring both ends of the special education continuum, namely, what services special education children need and receive, and what academic outcomes these students achieve.” However, does it adequately meet the societal imperative for improvement? As an institution, we must also comprehend the specific needs of teachers who have disabilities along with students. The film depicts the life of Naina Mathur, who has Tourette Syndrome—a neurological condition manifesting in involuntary sounds and movements exacerbated by stress. Her lifelong aspiration to become a teacher is impeded by discrimination, culminating in a five-year struggle marked by eighteen unsuccessful attempts before she secures a teaching position at her former school. The movie starts with the marginalisation faced by young Naina in school and at home. When asked how she wants to be treated she says, “Just treat me like the other students, that’s all” (translated).[1] The film highlights the struggle for identity and self-assertion for disabled people amidst a societal backdrop steeped in prejudice and discrimination. Therefore, to assert her qualifications to make her own identity, Miss Mathur says, “Tourette is in my speech, not in my intellect.” Despite having a speech defect, choosing to become a teacher was a courageous decision for Miss Mathur. She demonstrated that her skills and intellect outweighed her speech impediment, showing that education can transcend various forms of marginalization. In paving the way for herself and her marginalized students, she illuminated education’s role as not just a pathway to knowledge, but as a powerful force for societal change and inclusivity.
The second layer of marginalisation in Hichki involves students from economically disadvantaged backgrounds who encounter discrimination at multiple levels within the elite school. Socioeconomic status significantly shapes educational outcomes, exemplified by the segregation of students from slum areas into a distinct class, 9F. The film underscores existing social divisions between the affluent and the economically disadvantaged, wherein the identity of these students is reduced to their class designation, 9F, marking them as not ‘normal.’ They are often stigmatised, addressed disparagingly as “those who failed 100 times in 9th grade.” Kyriaki Messiou writes, “… it is based on the assumption that knowledge is socially constructed through interactions with others” illuminates the situation where students from slum backgrounds in an elite school are marginalised, denied opportunities for meaningful interaction with their peers. They are perceived as the ‘other’ by both, the school administration and fellow students, further reinforcing their marginalization and restricting their access to broader educational experiences.
When questioned by Naina Mathur about the reason of the framed psyche of these students, the peon in the film explains, “These children from the slum tried very hard in the beginning, madam, to walk shoulder to shoulder with the children here, but the children here did not accept them, and neither did the teachers offer any significant help. Now, these children from the slum have turned to rebellion.”
The rebellion observed among these students is not one of violent confrontation, but rather a refusal to pursue further education. This response stems from their profound sense of marginalisation—a rebellion against societal norms and against their own perceived worth. Naina Mathur, their teacher, channeled their sense of rebellion into a constructive activity by facilitating an exercise where students were asked to articulate their fears and grievances about themselves and others on paper. They did, and promised that it was the last day of them complaining about their situation, a situation that was not created by them but by others who made them feel ‘othered.’ Naina Mathur says to the principal and to her colleague Mr Wadia, a conservative and snooty educator, “Maybe we didn’t even try to make them feel like they belong!” Their marginalisation had instilled such deep-seated feelings of inadequacy that one student expressed, “I’m afraid that I won’t be able to compete with 9A. I’m scared to trust anyone, including myself and you, fearing that you might also leave us.” Class 9A, regarded as the top-performing section of the school, exemplified the perceived divide between them and the marginalised students, who were derogatorily labelled as “municipality garbage.”
This brings us to the next level of marginalisation in the movie. The film also portrays the marginalisation of students who struggle academically, illustrating the harsh realities of the Indian education system that extend beyond the provisions of legal frameworks. “In school, only a few students are intelligent, right? The rest are incompetent,” says one of the students in the movie. Is she wrong in her statement? No, this statement is not unfounded, given the deeply entrenched prejudices prevalent in wider society. Marginalisation based on academic performance and perceived intellectual ability is a reality within the education system. Students run in the race of marks sometimes overlooking the broader acquisition of skills and knowledge intended by educational institutions. The segregation of top-performing students into a distinct section, 9A, within the school underscores this marginalisation—not only affecting academically weaker students but also segregating those who excel academically.
It is impossible to definitively determine the reasons for a student’s academic struggles. There are numerous factors at play, some of which may not be immediately apparent. The film depicts the lives of students in slums, where daily survival—such as securing two meals a day—is paramount. These students endure long queues for water, face challenging family dynamics, and strive to meet basic needs. Our educational system is designed in a way that equates academic prowess with grades, but is this the sole measure of success? Who considers the underlying factors influencing a student’s performance? Factors like socioeconomic disparities, caste dynamics, religious affiliations, and racial prejudices may profoundly impact mental well-being and subsequently affect academic outcomes. Does a student’s performance under these circumstances truly reflect their academic potential? Ineffectively addressing these systemic inequities not only perpetuates the marginalization of vulnerable groups but also institutionalizes a cycle where academic performance itself becomes an instrument of systemic discrimination.
It is notable how a marginalised teacher imparts appropriate methodologies and ideologies to students facing similar marginalisation. The situation raises concerns about societal responsibilities, highlighting a collective failure to actively engage in addressing these issues. Education is a fundamental right, and ensuring its equitable exercise is a shared societal obligation. Hichki conveys poignant messages of equality, the right to education, and tolerance, vividly portrayed through a compassionate exploration of a Mumbai slum where Class 9F resides. The film challenges the notion of any human being being considered inferior, advocating instead for equal opportunities. Despite facing severe hostility from their peers, the Class 9F students collectively succeed in their exams, demonstrating that regardless of background, individuals can achieve remarkable feats in life. Their upbringing in challenging circumstances contrasts sharply with those born into privilege, yet they emerge triumphant. Similarly, a teacher with a speech impediment significantly influences the futures of her students. The movie illustrates the need to deconstruct the societal constructs that perpetuate inequality.
Works Cited
Aron, Laudan, and Pamela Loprest. “Disability and the Education System.” The Future of Children, vol. 22, no. 1, 2012, pp. 97–122.
Corbett, J., & Slee, R. (2000). An international conversation on inclusive education. In F. Armstrong, & L. Barton (Eds.), Inclusive education: Policy, contexts and comparative perspectives (pp. 133-146). London: David Fulton.
Messiou, Kyriaki. “Understanding Marginalisation in Education: The Voice of Children.” European Journal of Psychology of Education, vol. 21, no. 3, 2006, pp. 305–18.
[1] All dialogues from the film have been translated into English from Hindi for the purposes of this paper.
Author Bio:
Nomeeta Sharma is a postgraduate student of English at the University of Delhi. Enchanted by the power of words, she delves deeply into literature, exploring its nuances and impact. Her passion for language and literature drives her academic pursuits and creative expressions.