𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐤 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬: 𝐀𝐧 𝐈𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐄𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔

There was a time when schools in Sikkim functioned within a long-established tradition of strict discipline and control. For generations, this system shaped school culture and student behaviour. However, with the enactment of the Right to Education (RTE) Act, schools gradually moved away from many of those earlier practices of controlling and disciplining students. The intention of the reform was noble - to make schools more humane, child-friendly, and free from fear. Yet, during the transition, many educators began to observe certain behavioural changes among students.

Gradually, concerns started surfacing from different corners of the school system. Some students were becoming irregular in attendance, less punctual in attending classes, and at times inattentive or restless within the classroom. A few teachers also shared that some children were increasingly short-tempered, emotionally fragile, and occasionally stubborn in their behaviour not only at school but also at home. These observations were not expressed with criticism but with genuine concern for the emotional and moral development of children. 

Statements such as “फेल पारोस् त RTE Act लाइन्छ” and “छुइमात्रै हेरोस् त RTE Act लाइन्छ” were frequently heard in students’ conversations, reflecting a growing awareness, and sometimes misunderstanding, of the provisions of the RTE Act. 

Many teachers who were friendly with me and deeply committed to the well-being and upbringing of children began to share their thoughts. Some sent text messages; others spoke to me over the phone. When we happened to meet during school visits or professional gatherings, they would informally express their anxieties about the changing behaviour of students. A few of them even started writing about their concerns on social media, hoping that a wider discussion might lead to meaningful solutions.

These conversations stayed in my mind for a long time. I reflected deeply on what might help children reconnect with values, emotions, and empathy without returning to the old system of rigid control. After much contemplation, a simple yet culturally rooted idea emerged.

In 2016, I suggested to a few teachers that they begin sharing folk tales in their classrooms. I also encouraged them to invite children to narrate stories they had heard from their grandparents or elders at home. I felt that storytelling could gently rekindle a sense of wonder and imagination in young minds, while also giving children a space to reflect on emotions and values in a natural and engaging way.

At the same time, I requested parents to revive the beautiful tradition of storytelling within the home. While working in the fields, cooking in the kitchen, or sitting together in the evening, they could share the same folk tales that they themselves had heard during their childhood. Such moments of storytelling once formed an integral part of family life in our communities, nurturing both imagination and moral understanding.

I also proposed to some headteachers that schools could keep a dedicated period for storytelling, perhaps once a week, where teachers and students could share folk tales, legends, and local narratives. These stories carry within them timeless lessons of kindness, courage, patience, humility, and respect for others.

Storytelling, after all, is not merely entertainment. It allows children to exercise their imagination, experience different emotions, and see the world through the lives of others. When children listen to stories of compassion, sacrifice, friendship, and justice, they slowly develop empathy and emotional strength. Such experiences can help them become more understanding toward their parents, more respectful toward their teachers, and more thoughtful about their own future.

However, like many meaningful educational ideas, this suggestion did not immediately take root everywhere. It took time for the concept to gain acceptance in schools. A few pedagogically sensitive and visionary headteachers began experimenting with storytelling sessions in their schools. They understood that nurturing a child’s emotional world is just as important as academic learning.

Yet many others felt hesitant. Since storytelling was not an official directive from higher authorities, some headteachers considered it an additional responsibility amidst their already busy schedules. As a result, the idea spread slowly and unevenly.

Nevertheless, the few schools that embraced storytelling began to experience something beautiful. Classrooms became more lively, children became more expressive, and a quiet emotional bond began to grow among students and teachers. Through simple stories passed down across generations, children found new ways to understand kindness, patience, and humanity.

Looking back, I often feel that sometimes the most powerful educational tools are also the simplest ones. In a world increasingly dominated by textbooks, examinations, and digital screens, the gentle art of storytelling still holds the power to shape hearts, nurture imagination, and guide young minds toward compassion and wisdom. 

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