At the corner of Armenian Street stand a group of men with their cycle-rickshaws, waiting for the school day to end. While they kill time, they light up their rolled tobacco leaves, engage in banter and readily give directions to anyone who might have lost their way while weaving through the many narrow and crowded streets of George Town. Turning into Armenian Street, the road suddenly seems to widen, as the walls surrounding the school, bright and recently painted over, seem to be doing a good job.
A towering gate, strong and intimidating, stands between St. Mary’s Anglo-Indian Higher Secondary School and anyone who wishes to enter it. A signboard outside, proudly announces that the school is celebrating its 175th year. There’s an air of excitement surrounding the headmaster’s office as teachers bustle about in between classes, planning their upcoming celebrations. Fr. Gregory Devarajan, headmaster, announces proudly, “Dr. Abdul Kalam is coming for our anniversary, and has requested half an hour just to interact with the children.”
St. Mary’s, established as an all-boys school in 1839, educated European children during colonial rule. Post Independence, it became an Anglo-Indian school, educating many Anglo-Indians who lived in George Town. Today, with the introduction of Samacheer Kalvi and the dwindling number of Anglo-Indians, St. Mary’s educates many children in and around George Town, regardless of the community they belong to.
“This was the Black Town of Madras; leprosy and poverty were rampant here,” says Christina Arulnathan, headmistress of Bishop Corrie Anglo-Indian Higher Secondary school. Bishop Corrie, established to serve the disadvantaged , has many children who come from difficult situations. “We hear a lot of filthy language, deal with bad attitude, and the behaviour of parents is often reflected through the children,” says the headmistress, who aims at refining the kids before they go out into the world.
In the sunlit grounds of Bishop Corrie, children of all ages run around during their break time, playing or rushing to buy food from the canteen. They are protected and schooled within walls that have stood strong for 180 years. While the streets that lead to the school are filled with dust and bustle with activity, the school remains gated in and oblivious to the world outside.
A similar picture presents itself in St. Columban’s Anglo-Indian Higher Secondary school. The all-girls school, opened nearly 115 years ago, has many in green pinafores merrily running around the courtyard. While they preoccupy themselves with their own games, they are aware that teachers passing by the corridor have their eyes on them. They have reason to be vigilant and on their toes while in school, and care very little about what goes on beyond the walls that keep them safe.
These age-old schools in George Town have seen a century gone by and yet, stand tall, educating and offering new opportunities to generations of children who grow up in and around the area. Most of their history remains lost in time, as the schools lack documentation that paints a clear picture about the decades gone by. As the years wear on and these schools become landmarks in time, they scramble to archive their illustrious histories. Just as they try to understand the past, they embrace the present and prepare themselves to school future generations. “We use technology in education because children today are very well exposed,” says Sr. Prabha Puthota, principal of St. Columban’s, referring to the computers and smart boards used in classrooms today. Even as these schools adapt to keep pace with the changing times, they remain some of the oldest educational institutions in the city.
