Charge Parents in Gold, Pay Teachers in Gratitude
Ever wonder why private schools charge so much but pay so little? This satirical piece by Dr. Srabani Basu that reveals the stark reality of private school teacher exploitation, where gratitude is a poor substitute for a fair salary.
There is a special kind of magic that happens in private schools. Not the magic of learning, mind you, that is far too mundane. No, the real wizardry is how these institutions can charge parents enough to fund a small lunar expedition yet somehow pay their teachers less than a part-time parking attendant.
It is a business model so efficient it should be taught in MBA programmes: “Extract maximum fees from parents, extract maximum labour from teachers, and extract maximum plausible deniability from management.”
The Golden Goose Principle
Parents are told, with straight faces, that annual fee hikes of 12–15% are absolutely necessary to “stay competitive globally.” What they are not told is that “globally” refers to the standard of imported orchids in the reception area, or the cost of replacing all the doormats with ones that match the principal’s tie.
Meanwhile, the teaching staff, the actual people delivering the education are rewarded with salaries that could just about cover two bags of rice and a packet of biscuits. And if they are very lucky, a “bonus” that comes in the form of a tote bag emblazoned with the school motto: “Learning for Life (But Not for a Living).”
The Swiss Army Knives of School Life is probably the best metaphor for the star-crossed teachers
Of course, these underpaid heroes are not just teaching. No, that would be too simple. They are also event planners, bulletin-board designers, cultural festival choreographers, social media content creators, and amateur therapists and all on the same day.
A maths teacher, I recently spoke to had spent her Sunday marking 86 test papers while simultaneously sewing costumes for the school play The Great Indian Independence Pageant: With Extra Glitter. “I have not seen my own living room in weeks,” she sighed, “but I’ve memorised every corridor of the school … and most of the broom cupboards.”
Staff meetings do not help. On a good day, the agenda might include “Selecting the Official School Clapping Rhythm” or “Debating Which Pastel Colour Promotes More Holistic Bulletin Board Energy.” Each meeting takes at least two hours and produces exactly zero outcomes except for the satisfaction of having “ticked the collaboration box.”
Stress: The Unofficial Curriculum
If you are wondering how the teachers cope, here is the answer: sometimes they do not. Under constant pressure to deliver, many develop an unconscious habit of “redirected enthusiasm” i.e., taking their frustration out on the nearest available small human.
This might manifest as ruthless marking (“Your handwriting resembles the last will and testament of a distressed chicken”) or creative punishment (“Write me a 500-word reflection on why rulers found in the geometry box are important to civilisation”).
Students, being highly observant, notice. One eighth grader whispered to me during a conversation: “I think our teacher likes us… but also hates us. She smiles when the principal walks in, but her eyes look like Monday.”
Parents: Blissfully Ignorant, Wilfully Happy
The beauty of the system is that parents rarely catch on. Schools carefully curate glossy newsletters showing happy, busy children “engaged in learning”, which is a polite way of saying “posing for photos with books they have never opened.”
Parent-Teacher Meetings are designed like diplomatic summits. Any complaint about overwork, stress, or a teacher’s thousand-yard stare is met with soothing phrases like:
- “We’re building resilience.”
- “It’s part of our holistic approach.”
- “Think of it as character development… for the whole family.”
Some parents suspect the truth. One father, upon discovering his child’s English teacher earned less than his monthly internet bill, was stunned. “I thought teachers here were paid in pounds sterling, like at those international schools,” he said. “Turns out it is more like stale rupees.”
The View from the Top
The school proprietors, of course, see things differently. In their eyes, teachers are not employees. They are brand ambassadors. Overloading them is certainly not exploitation; it is skill enhancement. Stress is not a problem; it is an opportunity for “emotional agility training.”
One principal told me proudly: “We are not just running a school. We are curating a premium childhood.” Judging by the fee receipts, it is also a profitable childhood.
How to Keep the System Running Smoothly?
Based on my “extensive” investigation, I have devised a few humble recommendations to keep this well-oiled machine humming:
- Performance Rewards in Kind
Scrap cash bonuses. Offer “gratification tokens” redeemable for printer paper, extra whiteboard markers, or one free trip to the air-conditioned staffroom. - Venting Booths
Install soundproof booths so teachers can scream into the void between classes. Sell photos of the process as part of the school’s “innovative wellness programme.” - Trauma Rotation
Rotate students between teachers every term to ensure the psychological wear-and-tear is evenly distributed. - Fee Hike Justifications
Pair each increase with a tangible but irrelevant improvement: new pastel curtains in the library, imported koi fish in the fountain, so, parents feel they are getting value.
The Delicate Balance
For now, the system works:
- Parents dazzled by marketing
- Proprietors swimming in revenue.
- Teachers soldiering on with caffeine and faint hope.
- Students quietly adding “school” to the list of things they will discuss with their future therapist.
It is a perfect ecosystem… a case study in how to monetise childhood, professional passion, and parental aspiration all at once.
The only real danger is that someone might pull back the curtain and expose the whole operation. Until then, please remember: the smiles in the brochure are real and they are just not current.
Disclaimer:
This article is a satire. Any resemblance to real institutions, staff, or students is coincidental… or maybe just a little too accurate for comfort.
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