By Reyaz Ahmad Ganai
Imagine a doctor who has saved hundreds of lives over 30-50 years service, an engineer whose bridges span cities, or an artist whose students now lead galleries asked to sit again for a multiple-choice entrance test that at career’s twilight, to retake their entry exams. Absurd? That’s the reality facing India’s veteran teachers after the Honourable Supreme Court’s recent judgement for in-service educators to pass the Teacher Eligibility Test (TET).
Following recent judicial directions mandating the Teacher Eligibility Test (TET) for in-service educators, even those with decades of classroom experience now face the prospect of retaking an exam originally designed as an entry-level screening tool. The intent may be to standardize quality, but the implications deserve deeper reflection.Those asked to pass the TET aren’t novices fumbling through lesson plans. They’re the architects of tomorrow—mentors who turned rural kids into surgeons, innovators, IAS officers, and entrepreneurs. For 20-40 years, they’ve navigated crumbling classrooms, power outages, and pandemics, molding first-generation learners into nation-shapers. Their report cards are the thriving alumni, not multiple-choice scores.
Yet a one-size-fits-all test now demands they prove their worth, as if decades of proven impact evaporate on paper.This isn’t just policy—it’s a gut punch to dignity. TET suits fresh graduates stepping into teaching, screening baseline knowledge. But slapping it on grizzled professionals mocks their journey. It whispers: Your students’ successes, your tireless service, your community standing is Irrelevant. Prepare for the scantron, or pack your bags.Their performance has been continuously assessed through inspections, promotions, training workshops, and student outcomes. They entered the profession by clearing recognized qualifications such as B.Ed. and M.Ed., and have participated in ongoing professional development programmes mandated by institutions like the National Council for Teacher Education.
These teachers passed rigorous entry exams like BEd and advanced MEd programs, then honed skills through yearly capacity-building workshops and digital pedagogy courses mandated by bodies like NCTE. TET, introduced under RTE Act 2009 for baseline screening of new recruits, duplicates this foundation—testing pedagogy, child development, and subjects they’ve mastered in practice.To now subject them to the same baseline test designed for fresh recruits under the Right to Education Act raises a fundamental question: does experience count for nothing?
Proponents argue that uniform testing ensures minimum standards across states. In principle, accountability is essential. No profession should resist evaluation. However, policy must distinguish between entry-level screening and mid-career validation.TET was conceptualized as a filter to ensure foundational pedagogical competence among new teachers. Applying it retrospectively to veterans teachers is moving the goalposts mid-game. Why exempt doctors from mid-career MCQs despite wielding scalpels on lives? Why no refreshers for judges shaping destinies or engineers betting public safety on their designs? Teachers alone bear this ritual humiliation.Why? If quality control requires periodic reassessment, it must be structured, dignified, and profession-specific rather than a blanket replication of entry criteria.
The hypocrisy stings. If quality demands eternal vigilance, apply it evenly. Otherwise, it’s not reform—it’s resentment dressed as rigor. And let’s not ignore the human toll: graying educators, some eyeing retirement, cramming for youth-oriented exams amid family duties. Demoralized, they disengage; classrooms suffer.India’s examination culture is often criticized for encouraging rote memorization.
Multiple-choice tests can assess recall, but they rarely capture classroom management skills, mentorship, innovation, or emotional intelligence—traits that define effective teaching.Compelling senior educators to prepare for MCQ-based assessments risks reducing seasoned mentors to “test-takers,” diverting time and morale away from actual pedagogy. The measure of a teacher lies not in shaded OMR sheets but in the lives shaped within classrooms.
Critics aren’t dodging accountability—we crave it. But intelligence demands nuance over blunt force. Countries like Finland thrive by trusting veteran teachers with autonomy, not suspicion. India could too, blending respect with rigor.In classrooms where patience forges futures, gratitude should trump gotchas. By testing its elders, we don’t elevate education—we erode the very trust that builds it. It is high time to rethink, honor the nation builders before demanding they rebuild their credentials.
Our MBBS analogy nails it: Indian medical students often “rotta” (rote-crams) MCQs to pass exams but falter on conceptual explanations of biology, physics, or chemistry in real scenarios, as studies show superficial learning dominates due to exam pressures.Forcing teachers into similar MCQ marathons risks turning educators into “ratta machines,” prioritizing test tricks over classroom wisdom, innovation, and mentorship. True quality shines in nurturing doctors and engineers, not bubbling OMR sheets.
Prioritize holistic evaluation: portfolio reviews of teaching impact, peer observations, alumni feedback, or subject-specific refreshers instead of uniform TET. This honors experience without eroding morale or equity. Policymakers should revisit via review petitions, as teacher unions urge, to align rules with reality and TET should be for promotion and new recruitment.Education rests on trust—between teacher and student, institution and community, state and educator. Policies that appear to discount decades of service risk eroding that trust. Reform must strengthen the system without diminishing those who sustained it.
The situation becomes even more sensitive in the context of the Union Territory of Jammu and Kashmir. The Right to Education framework was extended to the region after the constitutional changes of 2019. Prior to that, teacher recruitment in the erstwhile state followed its own established procedures—initially through merit-based selection and interviews, and later through competitive examinations conducted by the JKSSB.The recent order designating the Jammu and Kashmir Board of School Education (JKBOSE) as the nodal agency for conducting TET has raised serious concerns among educators.
Many question the urgency of implementing such a directive at a time when schools are preparing to reopen from March 1 after the winter break. Instead of focusing on lesson planning and academic preparedness, staff rooms and offices are abuzz with anxiety. Social media platforms are flooded with messages from teachers expressing distress at being subjected to a test they perceive as a questioning of their integrity and competence.
Trade union leaders have long advocated for strengthening the teaching profession through rigorous recruitment on the pattern of JKAS examinations—arguing that teaching should attract highly intellectual and talented individuals. However, they also emphasize that if the State seeks excellence, it must provide dignity, job security, and remuneration comparable to other respected professions globally.The irony is difficult to ignore.
In the past, many teachers in Jammu and Kashmir were engaged on meagre honorariums—sometimes as low as Rs 1500 per month. Even today, numerous private schools pay highly qualified educators salaries that barely reflect their academic credentials. For many who chose teaching as a calling, financial insecurity has become a persistent reality. To now impose an additional qualifying barrier, without addressing long-standing concerns about service conditions and pay parity, deepens the sense of injustice.
India’s veteran teachers are not relics of a bygone era; they are living repositories of pedagogical wisdom. Any effort to enhance quality should build upon their experience rather than compel them to relive their entry into the profession.The question before policymakers is not whether standards matter—they do. The question is how to uphold them without undermining the very individuals who have dedicated their lives to nation-building.
Before we ask our teachers to rebuild their credentials, we must first acknowledge the generations they have already built.
Writer is an innovative educator and a national awardee works in education department in Jammu and Kashmir.