Despite often being derided as a relic of the British Raj in India, English has become less of a social divider and more of a job generator as the country’s knowledge-based economy takes off.
The demand for an English-literate workforce that forms the backbone of the knowledge process outsourcing (KPO) industry of multinational companies setting up base in India has led to a mushrooming of institutions that teach the language to students of all ages, from school to college and beyond.
“In the regular curriculum, Indian students get a lot of practice in reading and writing, but not in speaking English,” says A Chandrasekhar, who has been imparting soft skills and language education since 2005.
His Srirangam-based Standard Outsourcing Service is engaged in teaching spoken English to 6 lakh school and college students at present, through its wireless ‘Skillphones FX 100’ console that functions like a mobile radio station.
The audio-video platform (designed by Chandrasekhar) has got an Android interface already in the works.
Changing fields
For Chandrasekhar, it has been a big leap from being the Chief Executive Officer of a Bangalore-based software company to becoming a proponent of spoken English education.
“When I was in Bangalore (between 1999 and 2001), a leading computer company wanted 4000 people to be taught spoken English. I saw an opportunity there.
“Fluency in English could increase the pay scale of employees from ₹15,000 to ₹40,000 immediately,” says Chandrasekhar.
The sudden influx of large numbers of first-generation learners in Tamil Nadu was an added incentive.
“These students aren’t exposed to English at home. And unless we emphasise it as a special skill and make it compulsory, we’ll never be able to raise the level of our students [to suit the job market],” says Chandrasekhar.
The monotonous way of teaching, particularly English grammar, is a chief reason why students don’t warm up to the language, he says.
“The students are only still listening. They are not given an opportunity to talk in class, which is why learning English seems like a chore,” he says.
The Skillphones method of instruction does away with traditional grammar lessons and focuses on phrasal recognition. “We usually recommend having a mirror inside the language laboratory.
“If a student can overcome his or her self-consciousness in saying a word, he or she will become proficient in English,” says Chandrasekhar.
Friendly style
Customising the content of a language guide produced by the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) for use in Indian polytechnics in the 1970s, Chandrasekhar roped in his brother Ramesh Rao to help with the fine-tuning of the language laboratory.
Lessons in the current module have supplementary sections, among others, on English through music, movies and workplace interactions.
“If there is a mistake in English, that’s a social taboo. If I make a mistake in my mother tongue, nobody bothers. Teachers try to show their supremacy by pointing out errors,” says Ramesh, who was marketing high-end cars when his brother asked him to step in.
The Skillphones method avoids humiliating the students by pointing out their errors in class. “There will be a period of auto-correction that we have to wait for. Teachers have to understand how to teach the language,” says Ramesh, who has also written a text-book to go with the course material.
Speaking of his own experience, he says, “Even though I was always interested in the English language, I developed a flair for it only while interacting with the customers. None of the educational institutions have succeeded in giving us spoken English required for use in the market.”
The aversion to English grammar has led to people becoming obsessed with their native languages, says Ramesh. “Abusing another language is not a great contribution to one’s own tongue. Every language is like a mother. If you treat it properly, it will take care of you,” he says.
Out of the black box
The brothers found teaching the teachers to be the biggest challenge. “I noticed that they had a sense of guilt that they were not up to the mark,” says Ramesh. “Any day, English is a foreign language, no matter how much we speak it. The Indian syllabus should be more creative in teaching it.”
The Skillphones console was for a brief while, sold by technology major Hindustan Computers Limited (HCL) as part of their Original Equipment Manufacturer (OEM) product. Barring the outer casing (still manufactured by HCL), all the inner components have been designed or sourced by the Rao brothers.
The console, which resembles a big black box, can also be used as a public address system. The teaching module (from beginner to professional levels) is loaded on to the console through an Android-friendly interface designed by Chandrasekhar’s son A Hari Hara Rao. To keep it from interfering with local FM radio stations, the console’s audio transmitter functions only within a distance of 40 metres. “Our wireless headphones and microphones ensure the most silent class on campus,” says Chandrasekhar. “There’s a dialogue between teachers and students, and with the requirement to learn as much as possible in 90 days, the technology helps to keep up the enthusiasm levels,” he adds.
Each language lab is equipped with four microphones and 20 headphones. It sells for around ₹2,50,000, and is also available for a monthly rent for smaller institutions.
Where the language labs were initially sold with 101 DVDs, the Android interface has helped to make the Skillphones programme more future-proof and easier to transport. The language labs have travelled outside Tamil Nadu too … to Punjab, the Andamans and even Tanzania.
There are a few things that will never change, though. “Nothing can replace a good and inspired teacher,” says Ramesh Rao.
Compressing information
Chandrasekhar’s son Hari Hara Rao took up the task of streamlining the way Skillphones packaged its information, after complaints started coming in from customers about damaged DVDs.
“I thought why not upload the material on to a mobile phone and make the content future-proof? We wouldn’t have to carry CDs around if we could just squeeze all the material into a memory card,” says Hari.
He came across a lightweight personal computer console that runs on 5 volts. With the power consumption taken care of, Hari next had to figure out how to make the part compatible with the rest of the console’s components. “Everybody can handle it, because everyone knows how to use a smartphone. The DVD content could damage the eyes because it was 480 pixels blown up. My version allows for better visual quality and can be used on newer television and projector screens,” he says. “It’s like a Rs 50,000 phone squeezed into a cheaper device.”
