Let me begin with home because, as the proverb goes, “Charity begins at home.” We have heard this proverb countless times as a reminder that morality, kindness and generosity are learned and cultivated among the people closest to us. The family is the first institution where children learn to become responsible individuals by practicing shared values and morals. But what if we thought beyond individual responsibility and morality and considered how the values of citizenship could be cultivated in the same way?
Before children learn about democracy from textbooks, they encounter their first lessons in power, fairness, responsibility and difference at home. They observe how parents make decisions, handle disagreements, share their opinions, listen to others, and treat every family member with (or without) respect. These everyday experiences shape how children understand authority and their own place in the world.
Unfortunately, we still live in a patriarchal society where women’s roles, voices and contributions within the family are often undervalued. We cannot assume that the experiences of relatively privileged families represent the broader reality. For many families, these inequalities remain part of everyday life. We carry generational baggage and unresolved trauma, and often repeat the same patterns without questioning them. Unless this generation of parents takes the initiative to break these generational patterns, we cannot expect to raise children who are aware of injustice and committed to fairness.
Another common problem in many households is that children’s voices are often treated as less important in family decision-making. Because of the generational gap, some parents may find it difficult to acknowledge their limitations or admit when they are wrong, thinking that doing so might diminish their authority in their children’s eyes. Children, meanwhile, are expected to behave and live their lives in certain ways, with little room to express their own preferences. We have come a long way, but we still have work to do. For generations, many parents have dreamed on behalf of their children and expected them to fulfil dreams they had never even imagined for themselves. For instance, a child’s potential as a content creator may be stifled before it has a chance to flourish simply because the family expects them to become an engineer instead. It is time we learned to value our children’s individual dreams and let them make informed choices about their lives.
I am not suggesting that we should stop looking after or guiding our children. In fact, what I suggest is quite the opposite. Parental guidance is essential, especially during adolescence, to help children develop different perspectives and perceive the world with an open mindset. And helping children think independently, weigh their options and act responsibly is also a parental responsibility. A child who is encouraged to ask questions, express disagreement respectfully, and explain their point of view learns that authority does not have to mean unquestioned obedience. He or she learns to develop their agency long before using it consciously in civic life. Similarly, when children see adults acknowledge their mistakes, listen to their differing opinions, and treat others with respect, they learn that respect and accountability go hand in hand. While these might seem like private family matters, they make a huge impact on the overall upbringing of the citizens.
And this is where the role of educational institutions becomes evident. While the home is where children first encounter authority, fairness and difference, schools and other educational institutions can help them question what they have learned, encounter perspectives beyond their immediate families, and develop the intellectual, social and professional skills needed to participate in a diverse society. But the question is no longer just what we teach; it is also how we teach.
When I was growing up, I witnessed teachers physically punishing children for not doing their homework or even for moving their heads or drinking water without permission. Even now, remembering these incidents makes me unsettled as I think about the impact such experiences may have had on me and my generation. These were incidents in schools, but similar attitudes toward students did not disappear when they entered higher education. I have witnessed a few university professors, including my own teachers and colleagues, label adult learners “stupid” or “duffer” simply because they disagreed with them in the classroom.
The relationship between teachers and students is inherently unequal in terms of power. But that power difference does not entitle teachers to treat students unfairly or as though they are less than humans. If we want students to respect authority, we must also demonstrate what respectful authority looks like. Students deserve respect regardless of their age or grade level. Respect should not be something they must earn by remaining silent or agreeing with their teachers.
Moreover, subject-specific knowledge is equally important. Educational institutions must prioritise recruiting knowledgeable, compassionate teachers and supporting them through ongoing professional development. I have seen teachers teach, for example, seventeenth-century literature without a clear understanding of the socioeconomic history of the period and the place in which the literature emerged. Teaching a literary text requires more than familiarity with its words and story. It also requires an understanding of the historical, cultural and social contexts that shaped the discourse.
When teachers are not adequately prepared, they may feel insecure about their knowledge and find it difficult to respond constructively to questions or differing interpretations. The underprepared teachers often see differing perspectives as a threat or point of disagreement. Then this disagreement can become a threat to their authority rather than an opportunity for exchange of thoughts and different perspectives. We need to change this culture. Teacher training and professional development should not be treated as optional events to attend but as ongoing institutional responsibilities and requirements. Teachers need opportunities to strengthen their subject knowledge, develop their pedagogical skills, learn to facilitate disagreement and create classrooms where students feel safe to ask questions and think independently.
Students, too, need to learn how to navigate academic life and participate respectfully and responsibly in an educational environment. The habits of mind they develop in their early academic years follow them into their professional lives. Showing up for class, meeting deadlines, communicating when they face difficulties and taking responsibility for their learning are all important habits. But life happens, and sometimes circumstances make it difficult for students to meet their academic responsibilities. In such situations, they should feel comfortable approaching their teachers, explaining their difficulties and asking for reasonable flexibility when needed. Seeking help is not a weakness, and asking for an extension is not unethical. What matters is how students respond to challenges. They should not take a dishonest route to meet a deadline or take advantage of a teacher’s kindness and willingness to help. If we want to raise respectful and responsible citizens, we must also help students understand that rights come with responsibilities and that mutual trust depends on honesty and accountability.
When we cultivate and nurture respectful and responsible individuals at home and in the classroom, we expect them to become engaged citizens in a democratic republic. Families can teach children to respect others, and schools can help them think independently and act responsibly. Yet, these values need to be practiced and protected beyond these spaces. This is where the state has a responsibility to create an environment in which citizens can exercise their rights, express their opinions, question authority and seek justice without fear.
Of course, laws and policies matter, but so does the way institutions put them into practice. If citizens are taught to respect rules but repeatedly see those in positions of power escape accountability, what lessons are they likely to learn? If we teach young people to speak up against injustice but punish them when they do, can we expect them to remain confident in their voices?
Democratic values cannot thrive on pamphlets and political speeches only. Citizens need to witness fairness, accountability and respect for differences practiced in public life. Public institutions must demonstrate that rules apply to everyone, that people deserve equal protection, and that questioning those in power is not, in itself, an act of disloyalty to the country.