Why Technical Education In Indian Schools Leaves Most Parents Confused
I was leaning against the boundary wall of my son Arjun’s 10th grade school in South Bangalore last Saturday, eating a greasy aloo samosa from the cart out front, waiting for him to finish extra chess practice. When he finally came out, he slung his overstuffed backpack over one shoulder and pulled out a crumpled notebook with a Minecraft zombie doodled on the cover. “Need you to sign my tech ed project,” he said, kicking a loose piece of gravel across the path.
I wiped samosa grease off my jeans and opened the book. The term project was a working model of a solar-powered mobile charger. Photos of a neatly assembled device were glued to the page, with a teacher’s checkmark in the margin. “What did you learn about how solar panels convert light to electricity?” I asked him, flipping through the rest of the term’s notes.
He shrugged. “We watched a 10-minute YouTube video on it in class. The teacher told everyone to buy the pre-cut parts from the hobby shop on SP Road, assemble it at home, and bring it in for marks. Dad helped me screw the frame together, remember?”
I did remember. I’d spent three hours on a Sunday hunting for a screwdriver small enough for the tiny holes, and we still ended up with one loose wire that I had to tape down. That day, I first realized how confused I am about what technical education in Indian schools is even supposed to be right now.
When I was in 10th grade, tech ed was called ‘work experience’ back then. I spent every Friday afternoon in the workshop, hammering wood for a small stool I got to take home, and learning how to change a fuse and fix a loose switch. It was messy, and the teacher yelled if you got a splinter and didn’t tell him, but I still use those skills now. I change my own fan regulators, fix wobbly chair legs, and rewire a bad plug when I need to.
Now, every school advertises its cutting-edge technical education on their brochures—coding for 6th graders, AI workshops, robotics fairs. Parents pay hundreds of extra rupees a term for it, because we’ve all heard that future jobs are in tech. But when I talked to three other parents at the last PTA meeting, every single one had the same confusion. One mom told me her 8th grader’s coding class has 30 kids sharing two 10-year-old laptops that barely turn on. The teacher just writes HTML code on the blackboard, and asks everyone to copy it into their notebooks. No one has ever actually typed a line of code in class. Another dad said his daughter’s school made them pay 2000 rupees for a robotics kit that she’s never taken out of the box, because the teacher never had time to do any activities with it.
A week after Arjun’s project was marked, I stayed back after school to talk to his tech ed teacher, to try and clear up my confusion. She sighed and leaned against her desk, and told me she’s just as confused as we are. The state board updated the syllabus two years ago, got rid of most of the old carpentry and electrical work, and said all tech ed has to be “industry relevant” now. But no one came to train her on the new syllabus, and the school didn’t allocate any extra budget for new computers, parts, or even extra workshop time. She has 40 students in a class, and enough parts for 10 projects. So she does what she can: shows a YouTube video, sends the project home, marks it, and moves on.
That conversation cleared up one thing for me: the confusion isn’t because parents are out of touch, or kids aren’t trying. It’s because the whole system is in this awkward middle ground right now. We got rid of the old practical skills that were actually useful for everyone, but we haven’t built the infrastructure or trained the teachers to deliver the new fancy tech skills we’re all supposed to care about. We’re just all checking boxes.
I don’t have all the answers, but from what I’ve learned these past few months, there are a few small things that help cut through the confusion. First, don’t just sign your kid’s tech ed notebook and forget about it. Once a month, ask them to show you one thing they actually built or did in class, not just show you notes they copied off the board. If they can’t show you anything tangible, that’s not a failure on their part—it just means the school isn’t delivering on what they’re charging you for.
Second, if you want your kid to get practical technical skills, don’t panic and sign up for a 12,000 rupee a month after-school coding class right away. I bought Arjun a basic Arduino starter kit off Amazon for 600 rupees, and he spends an hour a week messing around with it on his own, no grades, no deadlines. He just made a clap-activated LED light last week, and he was so proud he showed every neighbour. If your kid likes building with wood, a 1000 rupee basic tool set from the local hardware store is enough for them to practice on scrap pieces at home.
Third, bring it up at your next PTA meeting. I brought it up at ours last month, and 12 other parents added their own stories. The school already said they’re going to allocate extra budget for more working computers and project parts this term, because they care about what parents ask for.
Last night, Arjun helped me change the broken fan regulator in our guest room. After we finished, he leaned against the wall and said, “This is way more useful than that solar charger I had to make for school. Why don’t we do this in tech ed?” I didn’t have a good answer for him. I still pay the extra tech ed fee every term, I still sign his notebooks, and I still let him mess around with his Arduino on weekends. I don’t know when the system will sort itself out, if it ever does. Right now, that’s enough for us.
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