Over two decades of life in academia, I remain reflective about the teaching-learning space. On Teacher’s Day, those reflections grow sharper as I feel deeply sentimental about the potential of my role.  Every year, I receive messages from my students – warm wishes, memories, and gratitude. I tremble with joyful tears as I read them, knowing how a class, a conversation, or a bit of mentoring helped touch their life. As I respond to them and share my gratitude with some of my mentors, I ponder what we are truly celebrating today: the teacher, the teaching, or the day itself. 

The rituals are familiar. Students gather, sing songs, dance in honour of teachers, and give gifts and speeches that highlight the greatness of the ​‘Guru.’  Teachers, in turn, blush and smile, and respond with yet another word of wisdom. While there is affection in these gestures, I often wonder: do we pause to reflect on the process of teaching and learning, or do we uphold positions of authority? 

I believe Teacher’s Day should be less about celebrating positions, i.e., teachers, and more about highlighting the process of teaching.  When positions are celebrated, everyone in the role is acknowledged equally, irrespective of their contribution. But meaningful gratitude emanates only from the experience. New students may wish to reach out to every teacher in their institute, but alumni will typically only contact a few whose teaching had a genuine impact on them. That distinction itself tells us something: what we are truly grateful for is not the title of ​‘teacher,’ but the quality of teaching and mentoring that touched our lives.

Yet, our social traditions push us to revere authoritarian figures for their positions.  We have grown up with concepts like Matru Devo Bhava, Pitru Devo Bhava, Acharya Devo Bhava, and, if I may add, Neta Devo Bhava. By idolising parents, teachers, and leaders for their positions, we stop questioning them. And when we stop questioning them, we also stop questioning ourselves, even when unhappy with their attitudes or actions. Celebration becomes automatic, a ritual of praise, devoid of reflection.

The problem runs deeper in our education system itself. Conventional education emphasises making us better at ​‘doing’ things and ​‘answering’ questions. It does little to nurture our ability to think, reflect, and ask questions of our own. Metaphorically, the system invests in making us good horses, trained to run faster, leap higher, and obey signals. Our parents at home, teachers at school, professors at colleges, and leaders in public life act as riders, guiding our steps. As we continue to leap and jump at the signals of our riders, we begin to idolise them for sharpening our skills. But in doing so, we forget that the larger purpose of education is not just to be a better horse, but to become a rider — one who chooses where, how, and why to ride. 

This, to me, is the irony of Teacher’s Day. Every year, we end up celebrating the riders, without asking whether their riding has any purpose, and without empowering the horses to become riders themselves. 

But it need not be so. Teacher’s Day can be a moment of pause for both teachers and students. For teachers, it is a chance to get off the saddle, to step down from the comfort of position, and to reflect on how we are riding: Are we creating safe spaces for students to think? Are we willing to unlearn our conditioning, relearn new purposes, and find better ways to perform our role? Are we attentive to the lived experiences of our students, and ready to learn from them as much as we expect them to learn from us?

For students, Teacher’s Day can be more than a performance of gratitude. It can be an invitation to reflect and respond: What kind of teaching has helped me grow? What processes could be improved? How can I express gratitude not just in words, but in constructive feedback that helps my teachers teach better?

If students can go beyond token wishes, and if teachers can go beyond customary speeches, Teacher’s Day could stop being a ritual of flowers and applause for celebrating authority and turn into a dialogue for reimagining the responsibility of how teaching can transform lives.  It would remind us that the ultimate purpose of teaching is not to produce better horses for the races of society, but to nurture thoughtful riders who can chart their own paths — and, someday, guide others wisely.

If we truly wish to honour the spirit of Teacher’s Day, let us celebrate teaching, not teachers. Let us reflect on processes, not positions.  Let’s ensure asking every generation of students where and why they are running while we help them run better and faster.  The appropriate tribute to teaching and learning processes would be to reciprocate Acharya Devo Bhava (“The teacher is equivalent to God”) with Appo Deep Bhava (“Be your own light”).

About the author

Mayur Trivedi has two decades of research experience in exploring self, science, system, and society across thematic areas of health financing and insurance, health economics, health and development, assessment of health interventions of government and non-government organisations, and exploration of the health of marginalised communities. At Radio Azim Premji University, Mayur conducts a radio show, ​“Likhe Jo Khat Mujhe” that can be accessed here.

Featured Photo: Azim Premji University