There Is A Toxic Culture In Many Of The Indian Arts Groups In Singapore That Needs To Change
One afternoon, when I was in primary school, my mother received a call from my dance teacher. She had instructed us to get me dressed up and perform an item for a small Deepavali celebration at a hotel that very evening. I vaguely recall my mother putting up some resistance because I had a Math exam the next day. Eventually, after some persuasion, she acquiesced with heavy reluctance and I ended up doing that performance.
She did not stop grumbling about it though. I couldn’t understand why. I didn’t have a problem with it at all. In fact, I was flattered that my dance teacher was confident that I could pull this off at the very last minute at a young age, and still be able to nail my paper without the previous day’s revision. Today, however, I agree with my mother’s unhappiness wholeheartedly. I think that it was justified for my mother to think that my dance teacher was being inconsiderate of not just my time but hers as well, and worse, we did not get any compensation for the effort, taxi expenses and inconvenience. It was unfair that my dance teacher got paid for that gig and she didn’t care to give my mother a percentage of it.
This wasn’t a single occurrence. The same issue continued for years under various circumstances, until the tension bubbled up and tore open a large rift between my parents and teachers. Sadly, it became too overwhelming for me and thus, I decided to leave the group when I was about 16.
I am writing this post with trepidation because that dance teacher I was referring could be reading this. In truth, I have been having the itch to write about this topic for several years, but had always restrained myself as it would offend many honoured members in our Indian Arts community. Though that is not my purpose, I am going to spill today because I believe we should talk about this toxic culture openly. We should acknowledge its presence if we want it to change. It is the realisation that I am not alone in facing this that had prompted me to pen this down.
Blind Devotion
“மாதா, பிதா, குரு தெய்வம்.” All Tamil students memorise this in early primary school. The literal translation is “mother, father, teacher are God”. I hadn’t only learnt this famous saying but internalised it. Indeed, I revered my gurus as equivalents of God, which is why I had absolute faith in the things they had imparted and always followed every instruction they gave. I was a guru-fearing, obedient kid and was rewarded for not questioning them.
The problem with this is twofold. First, some gurus tend to exploit this devotion. Very often, they push their students beyond their limits realising that they will not resist. Doing so for the sake of the students’ growth is perhaps fine, but when it is done for selfish gain or to feed their narcissism, it gets ugly. It is also not abnormal for them to disregard their students’ physical or mental health while pushing them. Other times, they are simply bullies. Understanding that they could get away with anything under the pretence of disciplining or scolding them, some gurus project their negative thoughts onto their students. Failing to recognise that students also ought to be treated with basic respect, they sometimes subject them to emotional torture, saying hurtful remarks. In addition, on many occasions, my classmates and I had stood for more than 30 minutes listening to our teachers rant or gossip about something entirely irrelevant to us and if we tried to interrupt to get the lesson started, they would retort with a scathing quip. I cannot fathom how they would possibly think it was okay to do so. It is obviously corrupting to be in the presence of hateful speech, especially at an impressionable age.
Second, gurus could be so accustomed to the idea of blind devotion that they expect and demand it from students. It is common for our gurus to start reminiscing “In our time, we were very dutiful and deferential to our teachers.” Naturally, they would expect the same from us. And that’s all right. It is certainly important for a student to trust the teacher’s methods and processes. However, that trust has to be earned and even if it is, there is a threshold, past which reasonable doubt should exist. Reacting indignantly to even a little confrontation, treating students’ doubts as an insult to their knowledge and expertise or interpreting alternative views as insolence is a result of the unsound expectation that students need to accept everything blindly. This immediately quenches the possibility of an atmosphere of receptiveness, open discussion and feedback in which the art could thrive.
Is fear a good pedagogical tool? It is effective, yes, but too much fear creates a negative learning experience which students may begin to associate to the art form itself. They could feel disheartened and ultimately stop pursuing it. Alternately, being tough but fair and sprinkling words of encouragement would go a long way to instil discipline and keep them motivated.
Gurus or people running these Indian Art groups are humans after all. They are limited and imperfect like everyone else. If we often cast doubts on God itself, why should we be blindly devoted to them, the flawed reflections of God?
The Only Commitment
Learning an art requires consistent dedication. Only with singular focus, discipline and hard work could an artist get better at his craft. On top of that, taking part in a project or production requires a large portion of one’s time. He has to be wholly committed to the project or production lest he becomes a burden to others.
All of us understand this, which is why we always think twice before pledging ourselves to a project or production. Additionally, we pay specific attention to getting the rehearsal schedules fixed before saying yes, so that one, we can clear those days and make arrangements to attend all, if not most of the practices, two, we will not be thwarted by changes or extra practices that might lead to clashes and three, we are not signing up for a bigger commitment than was promised. Of course, this is an ideal scenario which does not actually play out most of the time. There are always bound to be changes in the schedule plus additional practices, until the project or production ends up consuming more time and energy than desired. We thoroughly enjoy what we do, yes, but a drain is still a drain. It saps everything we have until we are burnt out.
Many of the teachers and administration in Indian Arts groups are not sympathetic to our plight. They are intent on staying oblivious to the fact that we lead very full lives outside this commitment and that it is difficult for us to give more than what we had promised. To them, this should be the main or only commitment we have, because it is their main or only commitment at the moment. Even if we do our best to accommodate to the changes, we are simply unable to deliver all the time. Whether it is work or school, other commitments or family, everybody’s plate is pretty full. It is unreasonable how we are expected to be flexible to their changes but they refuse to understand our situation. The number of times I have sacrificed or have observed my friends making sacrifices to keep up to a commitment’s demands is too many.
To preempt this, if we know that it is going to be hard to make those sacrifices, particularly during a busy time, or if we wanted to shift our focus to something else that interests us, we choose to politely decline the opportunity to take part in that project or production. That is a red flag to them because if you recall, we are supposed to be blindly devoted to them and give them all our time. They either unofficially categorise us as uncommitted or ungrateful and do not give us any opportunities in the future, or they coerce us in joining anyway. In the latter situation, when we do end up saying yes but miss a few practices, we are subjected to dirty, judgmental looks for not being fully committed.
The annoying part about this is rehearsals could actually be conducted in a more efficient way that could save much time and energy. If sufficient planning before rehearsals are done, a lot of unnecessary waiting could be avoided and things on the agenda list, if there was even one, will get done better and faster. Let’s face it, most Indian Art groups are not great at making the best of time, and tend to needlessly drag the process.
Possessiveness
There are tons of exciting things to explore in the world today. Many of them are quite accessible to us too, whether it’s to do with art, technology, sport, business, etc. As such, our attention is quite divided across the multiple things that intrigue us.
However, I’ve noticed that many gurus in Indian Arts groups are averse to letting their students explore outside what they teach. Obviously, they don’t do or say anything overtly against the students’ desire to spread their wings. They instead become passive aggressive and give a hard time to those students. It is no secret that these gurus can be very possessive of their students. In fact, it’s an unforgivable act of betrayal to want to change environments and learn under a different guru, or even pursue something else. This is one of the reasons why till today, I’m afraid to begin attending Bharatanatyam classes again. I do not wish to hurt my former teachers whom I love, but at the same time, I am not prepared to put myself in a toxic setting again.
Bias
The problem of favouritism is a big one in most Indian Arts groups. It is everywhere. I’ve put this point as the last one because it is linked to the prior three. The handpicked favourites are usually those who comply with the first three points. They are blindly devoted, astoundingly committed and extremely loyal to that one group and art form. They give all their time and energy for it. If you find yourself provoked or defending your own gurus while reading this post, take a look at yourself, for it is quite likely you’re one of them. That doesn’t make you a bad person at all; I suppose it is a bit similar to the concept of privilege.
My theory is that it is a vicious circle. You give your all, they reward for it, and that prompts you to give more. Hell, I think I was like this when I was a kid. It was only when I joined Kathak in another school I realised how difficult it was to penetrate the inner circle. I began to notice that most productions by Indian Arts groups presented the same faces as their leads. Talking to many friends regarding this issue of bias has also shed light on how bad it is. There are many who are talented and show much potential but rarely receive the opportunity to be casted in productions or travel overseas. What hath happened to the practice of holding auditions? The difference in treatment doesn’t stop there. The favourites are rarely chided for the same mistakes that others do and are emotionally abused for. The former get to stay behind and bond with the teachers or the administration while the latter are dismissed in a way that it would be awkward for them to linger and participate in the tittle-tattle. Like privilege, it seems almost impossible to defeat favouritism with mere talent, resolve and promise.
The Good
As I said before, I loved my former gurus. Despite everything else I wrote, I am always grateful for being taught by them. They nurtured me and took care of me as they would have their own child. I have learnt so much from them, like the importance of tradition, filial piety, humility, confidence and perseverance. They were also extremely good at teaching me the art form. The person I am today is largely attributed to everything they have done for me.
The ugly doesn’t cancel the good. On the flip side, the good doesn’t cancel the ugly either. Both can and does exist at the same time. Many have told me things such as he or she could be difficult but nevertheless is a great teacher. I do not want to disregard the merits of our gurus’ teaching ability. However, their wonderful teaching ability should not be an excuse for poor attitude or creating a toxic environment. Similar to how you cannot justify abuse from an otherwise great partner in a relationship, the toxic culture in many of the Indian Arts groups in Singapore needs to change. It’s about time we stop tolerating the psychological trauma inflicted onto students like us and do something about it.
It begins with talking about the issue openly.
