By Deepali Kshirsagar, Life Skills & Career Educator, Mental Health Practitioner
It was a warm afternoon when I walked into the Samavesh Center where I lead the After-School Program in Bhosari. The room was buzzing—not with noise, but with a quiet intensity. You could feel it in the way the children sat: alert, curious, and cautious. Most of them were between 13 to 17 years old—first-generation learners from communities often pushed to the margins of our education system.
Their families work hard—many in informal, unprotected sectors like domestic work, street vending, construction, or waste collection. These children return home not to homework help or after-school tuitions, but to caregiving responsibilities, chores, and often emotional burdens that remain invisible.
And yet—they show up. To learn. To grow. To breathe.
I wasn’t there to deliver a lecture. I was there to hold space.
What We Did: Beyond Worksheets and Walls
We began the session with a deceptively simple question:
“What makes you feel seen?”
A pause. Then a girl said, “When my teacher says my name properly.”
Another added, “When someone remembers that I missed class because I had to take care of my brother.”
We then moved into a self-awareness and emotional mapping activity, using chart paper and crayons. The children mapped their week not with subjects or tests—but through symbols and feelings. A storm on Monday. A cloud on Wednesday. A tree on Friday.
This led us into a conversation around stress, shame, and fear of failure—emotions that shape how children from under-resourced communities experience learning. Many said school feels like a place where they’re expected to perform, not express.
So we shifted the focus.
“What do you want to become?” we asked.
The answers: forest officer, poet, policewoman, doctor, street teacher, bus driver, designer. One girl quietly said, “I want to become the person who helps girls speak up.”
We then facilitated a career mapping exercise where children connected their interests to real-world paths. The goal wasn’t to push ambition. It was to make choice visible—especially for children who are rarely told that they have one.
What I Observed: From Silence to Voice
One child said, “No one ever asks me what I like. They just ask what I scored.”
Another boy shared, “I want to be an engineer, but I also want to build something for my father—because he never got to study.”
This generation knows caste, class, and exclusion—not from books, but from lived experience. When given the space, they speak about it with startling clarity—and compassion.
Over the past year at ROSHINI, I’ve facilitated over 55 sessions on life skills, self-awareness, emotional regulation, and career exposure. Among the children who participated:
- 87% showed improvement in identifying and expressing emotions
- 73% reported feeling more confident in group settings
- Over 60% were able to set a personal learning or career goal through our guided sessions
These are not just numbers—they’re indicators of trust, reflection, and self-worth taking root.
Why After-School Spaces Like this Matter
In government schools, life skills and mental well-being often take a backseat to curriculum demands. But for children growing up in precarity, these are not optional—they are foundational.
ROSHINI After School by Samavesh is not just an academic support space. It’s a structured after-school program that integrates emotional literacy, decision-making, self-reflection, and career thinking—especially for children from low-income, caste-marginalized, and migrant families.
Here, they are not seen as problems to fix—but as voices to nurture.
Looking Ahead
I hope to deepen our sessions on self-image, gender, resilience, and relationship building. I also hope to see the ROSHINI model expand—to more bastis, more towns, and more children who’ve been told they don’t belong in spaces of learning and leadership.
“When we create space to breathe, they begin to dream. When we create space to speak, they begin to lead.”
And in that sunlit classroom, on that quiet afternoon, I witnessed just that—not just learning, but becoming.
About the Author
Deepali Kshirsagar is a mental health practitioner with over 6 years of experience in youth well-being and education. She holds an M.A. in Gender Studies from Savitribai Phule Pune University and leads the life skills and socio-emotional learning curriculum at the After-School Program under Samavesh
