Abstract
Govardhan Wankhede, My Life: The Journey of a Dalit Sociologist. Aakar Books India Publication, 2020, 191 pp., ₹595 (Hardcover), ISBN: 978-9350026854.
Professor Wankhede’s autobiography, titled ‘My Life: The Journey of a Dalit Sociologist’, is a critical analysis of his life. The present narratives are based on the author’s social, academic and personal experiences as a sociologist and educationist that provide new insights of a first-generation learner. It delivers ethnographic information of his lived experiences from micro (his village) to macro (world—international conferences, seminars, etc.), which are self-reflective and analytical that are hardly observed in the works of the upper castes. To the educated Dalit circle who oppose writing of memoir for public exhibition, he retorts, ‘unless one speaks and writes, people will not know and empathize and in that case one can miss and lose the social and academic values of such writings that will be conspicuously missing from the history of a society’ (p. 11).
The book consists of seven chapters. Each chapter includes his life stories having critical reflection. The strongest part of the book comprise the preliminary chapters (first to third), which are concisely articulated and enable readers to contextualize the life story, followed by a brief summary. Except the first two, all titles of the chapters are framed in an interrogatory style. The book aims to acknowledge Wankhede’s painful struggle alongside relying on the values of humanity and equality as it reiterates, ‘voicing stories are significant as it may help others treading similar paths to find courage and to find hope’ (p. 21).
The fourth chapter ‘where do I come from?’ pens experiences of Wankhede’s childhood. It gives ontology of his village in general, and Maharwada (locality of Mahars at the eastern outskirts of the village) in particular. Both men and women used the open space around the village for defecation which invariably was in the proximity to Maharwada because, ‘the wind direction was from west to east and open defecation in the east would mean the upper caste in their cosy, west-located homes did not have to suffer the stench’ (p. 27). It reveals how (systematic) discriminatory setting of Dalit habitat was/is. The author’s gratitude towards Ambedkar can be noticed throughout the text, as he was a champion for Dalit movements. Wankhede being the product of such movement elaborated his encounter with Samata Sainik Dal (SSD), during the post-Ambedkar phase, where SSD worked for renouncing Hindu rituals and caste-based occupations (Balutedari system), and spreading educational awareness. Thus, the commentary on SSD, indeed, reveals much more pride for a group, which for many is a topic of discussion for its failure in terms of the cessation of movement and inactive role of the leaders during atrocities inflicted upon Dalits.
The author explains his journey of higher education in the fifth chapter ‘where did my voyage take me?’ that begins with Milind College, Aurangabad to Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi. He earned BA, MA, BEd, MPhil and PhD degrees. Further, he discusses his love for the arts and college-level participation in Bharatanatyam in feminine costumes. The author found detractors from students as it was considered a ‘female dance form’. Therefore, he switched to ‘Kathak’ from ‘Bharatanatyam’, as more male dancers are there. It shows how the gender bias mindset of the society compels him to compromise his love for the art. About students, Wankhede argued, ‘The students belonging to rural, poor and socially backward categories possess rich experiences and observances that would enrich the academic and research discourse in the country, however the system suppresses and reduces it to a ‘superficial academic’ out product’ (p. 118). The author develops criticality towards Indian academia, as he was a student and learner of sociology and education for several decades, where representation of Dalits are negligible and silenced (Jogdand & Kamble, 2013) since the twice-born have been dominating there for 100 years (Kumar, 2016).
The sixth chapter, titled ‘what do testing times prove to us?’, includes the author’s long journey at the Tata Institute of Social Sciences (TISS) and other experiences regarding it. For Wankhede, the space of academic and intellectual life is a denouncement of the traditionally imposed life of helplessness, poverty, disrespect and dependence. Also, freedom from the burden of caste, untouchability, humiliation, indignity and hunger (p. 129). However, the promise of equal space and freedom from discrimination perhaps meet hurdles through entering such premises. Because even after joining TISS, for a decade, he did not get an adequate place for sitting and promotion in a job, as compared to others who joined (5 years) after him. Was it (caste) discrimination or incompetency of the author? To the author, Indian minds, in general, keep looking and digging for one’s caste based on name, surname, locality, language, pronunciation, accent, body language, appearance and, sometimes, dressing style. Nevertheless, in academics, the area or topic of research study is also a point to locate caste (p. 133). The author described his visit to Germany. The country gave him enriching experiences along with several cultural shocks. The book also familiarizes readers about exposition of Western society critically. Here, Wankhede attempts to highlight every minute detail of the state. However, it would be great if this section could be a concise one (pp. 138–158). Moreover, teaching is a passion for him. He argues for reformation in the existing teaching pedagogy, where Brahmins dominate knowledge and teaching in such a way that invariably leads to exclusion of students from poor, rural/slum and deprived backgrounds (p. 159). Even according to Guru (2002), Indian social science represents a pernicious divide between ‘theoretical Brahmins and empirical Shudras’. Being a Dean of Social Protection Office (SPO) and Liaison Officer, he endeavoured immensely and introduced several reformative changes in the history of TISS (pp. 172–176).
In the last chapter ‘what next?’, Wankhede summarizes all his experiences in academic, administrative and social fields, where his role was reduced to Dean of SPO. His strong resentment towards Indian academia that is apparently visible may be due to the unpleasant experiences like deliberate neglect and undervaluation of his academic and non-academic attainments. He felt his outspoken attitude distanced him from students and staff at the Institute. His critical understandings as a sociologist and educationist are unmatchable, which can be seen through his reflections on education policy.
The author’s comprehension from his own reality is assertive and promising rather than a bare lamentation on the situation of Dalits. Being a sociologist, he has not only precisely presented a detailed account of his life history but also critically opined about the functions of the Indian educational policy and role of bureaucracy. The book shows the rights-based approach of Wankhede to implement various educational schemes and zeal to apply appropriate pedagogy to ameliorate the conditions of students from the marginalized sections. It analysed how India’s caste-ridden society treats Dalits as second-class citizens. It encourages the community to confront every challenging situation and inspires its members to fight fearlessly against all odds in life. The journey was uneasy, where he stood firm for the cause of upward mobility of his community, in spite of vertical (viz. upper authority) and horizontal (viz. colleagues) criticisms. Reflective production can be a response to the dominating narrative—where Dalits are considered as ‘inferior of academics’, whereas upper castes as ‘theoretical pundits’ (Guru, 2002).
The book, however, has repetitions of narratives on caste-based practices that remind the reader of ‘Joothan’ (Omprakash Valmiki) and ‘Outcaste’ (Sharankumar Limbale). Further, his criticism of the critics of ‘reservation policy in India’ seems a reiteration of already known arguments of the protagonists of the policy. Some factual data need to be corrected, for instance, the year of Poona Pact is written as 1933 instead of (24 September) 1932. Similarly, in a section on ‘English classes and the Krishnan’, while the first long paragraph is about the classes, the rest of the part discusses a story of joining the TISS and ‘back to JNU’ for completing the incomplete work of PhD. Thus, the text is diverted from the title. Thematically, the outlining of the book sometimes leads to overlapping of points and deflects the readers. For Dalits, Wankhede’s struggle to pursue education may seem common, since more or less every first-generation Dalit goes through the similar hardships. Wankhede benefitted from an educated sibling and cooperative family, which was uncommon in 1970s and 1980s among Dalit families.
His painstaking journey shows a mirror to society as to how pain, poverty, untouchability, discrimination, inequality, exploitation and humiliation are inseparable parts of Dalit life. Overall, this critical and reflective memoir subtly demonstrates Professor Wankhede’s scholarship on the subject; hence, the book would be extremely useful for researchers and students of sociology and anthropology and interested readers of Dalit autobiographies.