Firdous Amad Najar
“A new academic year does not automatically bring improvement. Unless the reopening of schools awakens the collective conscience of parents, administrators, and teachers, the bell will ring only as a sound—not as a signal of reform.”
This year, the reopening of schools once again marks the beginning of a new academic session, with the ringing of school bells welcoming students back to their classrooms.
On 22 February, students of secondary and higher secondary classes will resume academic activities, followed by children of primary and middle classes on 1 March.
These dates are important in the academic calendar. Yet, unless this reopening also awakens the conscience of all stakeholders, the reality inside classrooms is unlikely to change in any meaningful way.
A new academic year, by itself, does not guarantee improvement. Changing dates and reopening buildings do not automatically improve learning. If parents, administrators, and especially teachers fail to reflect honestly on their responsibilities, struggling children will continue to suffer silently.
Learning gaps will widen, and dropout rates will keep rising from one stage of schooling to another. The bell may ring in school corridors, but without collective responsibility, it will remain only a sound, not a signal of reform.
As students return after a long break, disruption in academic focus, social interaction, and behaviour is natural. Children need time to transition from informal home environments to structured school routines. These challenges should not be mistaken for indiscipline or failure.
They are signs of adjustment and require patience, empathy, and professional sensitivity. When schools respond with pressure instead of understanding, they risk pushing vulnerable children further away from learning.
The first day of school should not begin with fear, rigid instructions, or academic pressure. It should begin with warmth. A welcoming environment, joyful interaction, games, and co-curricular activities aligned with students’ interests help children reconnect emotionally with school.
Such practices are not distractions from learning; they prepare the ground for it. When children feel safe, valued, and happy, learning follows naturally.
As the academic year progresses, curricular and co-curricular planning must be done with seriousness and intent. Play-way methods, hands-on activities, role play, storytelling, observation, experimentation, and art-integrated learning should not be treated as optional or secondary.
These approaches are essential, especially for children who struggle in rigid, exam-driven classrooms. They nurture curiosity, confidence, and engagement, qualities without which learning remains superficial.
Every academic year reminds us that classrooms are not uniform spaces. Each child enters school with a different background, language exposure, emotional need, pace of learning, and level of readiness.
Learning differences are not rare exceptions; they are the norm. Yet the education system continues to depend heavily on uniform teaching methods and standardised assessments, often ignoring this reality.
In almost every classroom, there are children who struggle with attention, reading, emotional regulation, or social interaction. Some may have learning disabilities or developmental differences.
Many remain unidentified; not because such children are few, but because the system is poorly designed to notice and support them. These children are not weak learners; they are underserved learners, left behind by rigid practices and policy gaps.
This beginning must also ring the bell of conscience for parents, who share equal responsibility in a child’s education. Education cannot be left entirely to schools and teachers. Parental indifference has quietly become one of the most neglected challenges in the education system.
Parents must move beyond detachment, reconnect with schools, and actively engage in their children’s learning. Their responsibility does not end with admissions, examinations, or results. It includes building discipline, curiosity, emotional security, and moral grounding at home. Parents must act as a bridge between home and school, ensuring continuity, emotional support, and shared accountability. Without this partnership, even the best policies and sincere classroom efforts will remain ineffective.
The role of the administration is equally crucial. Each new academic year exposes unresolved systemic issues that directly affect classroom teaching. Many government schools, especially in rural areas, continue to face acute teacher shortages despite high student enrolment. Infrastructure deficiencies remain widespread, making effective teaching difficult.
At the same time, the system shows a serious imbalance. Some areas have many students but very few teachers, while others have teachers but low enrolment. Due to system rigidity and undue influence, rationalisation remains incomplete, deepening inequality instead of correcting it. Policy intent often collapses at the level of implementation, and students bear the consequences.
In an age defined by technology and innovation, it is unrealistic to expect children to become capable 21st-century learners in classrooms limited to chalk, boards, and minimal resources. If society expects students to compete in a modern world, schools must be equipped accordingly. Twenty-first-century education demands twenty-first-century infrastructure, training, and institutional support.
However, no policy, infrastructure, or technology can succeed without the most important stakeholder, the teacher. As this academic year begins, the conscience of teachers must awaken. Teachers are the backbone of the education system; around them, the entire structure revolves. They shape futures quietly, every day, inside classrooms. No reform has value unless teachers perform their role with integrity, sensitivity, and commitment.
Teachers must return this year not merely to complete syllabi, but to address the realities they witnessed last year: learning gaps, emotional distress, disengagement, and exclusion. Teaching is not about physical presence in schools; it is about meaningful impact on children’s lives.
Research is clear: children learn best when learning is active, personalised, experiential, and emotionally safe. This makes differentiated teaching essential. Children differ in readiness, interests, language, and learning styles. Uniform instruction cannot serve such diversity.
Too often, struggling children are misjudged. A restless child is labelled undisciplined. A slow reader is called careless. A quiet child is seen as inattentive. These behaviours are not problems; they are signals, calls for different approaches and more responsive teaching.
There is no standard child, just as there is no standard brain. Education begins to fail when children are forced to adapt to rigid teaching methods instead of instruction adapting to children.
As schools reopen, a fundamental shift is required. Instead of asking, “Why can’t this child learn like others?” the system must ask, “How can we teach so this child can learn?” Inclusive education does not mean lowering standards; it means changing pathways. Excellence can be achieved through different routes and at different speeds.
As school bells ring on 22 February and 1 March, they must do more than mark attendance. They must awaken responsibility. A new academic year is not a routine event; it is an opportunity for moral and systemic renewal.
No two children grow, think, or learn in the same way. They are not preparing for identical futures. Teaching them in the same way, at the same pace, through rigid systems is neither just nor effective.
Education will fulfil its true purpose only when equality is pursued through inclusion—when parents engage, administrators act responsibly, and teachers teach with conscience. Only then will the ringing of school bells truly signal hope, reform, and opportunity for every child.
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