WHY EDUCATION?
Real vulnerability can be really challenging. It's often easier to present a story that sells, than the true one, for the real one is usually never as clean as the one we'd like to sell.
I wear many different clothes depending on the environment I am in. I am a teacher, podcaster, philosopher, researcher, data scientist, student, mathematician, policy analyst, friend, avid reader, dancer, singer, chess player, basketball fan, traveler, photographer, poet, writer. The world fascinates me and I am ever in awe by how many amazing people exist in it.
I was born in Tenkasi, Tamil Nadu and moved to the United States when I was one year old. Adjusting to a new society, one of the hardest challenges for me was learning to adapt to the new world, while holding on to the one I came from. A world of rules, restrictions, orthodoxy met with the freedom and explorative nature the United States stood for.
Despite the U.S.'s promise of freedom, my experience in the schooling system felt anything but free. School wasn’t a place of discovery—it was a place that stifled it. Every morning, I dreaded the monotony of a system designed to mold us into test-takers, not thinkers. Looking back now, I realize I was living the consequences of George Bush’s No Child Left Behind Act, which turned education into a race for scores, long before I even understood what policy was.
For those 12 years, I navigated a system that stripped away the very things I valued most—autonomy, curiosity, and respect. I felt belittled by teachers who, overworked and undervalued themselves, dictated when to sit, when to speak, and when to leave. As a result, I became increasingly alienated from the cultural context I came from, the one I so desperately wanted to understand.
I went to college because, at the time, it seemed like the only path forward. I chose my major almost apathetically, but that choice ended up changing my life. At UCSD, I studied a blend of computer science, mathematics, and philosophy—a combination that bridged abstraction with real-world application. For the first time, I met people who didn’t study just to perform academic feats—they learned for the sheer joy of pursuing their curiosity.
I discovered that learning wasn’t just about achievement—it could be a way of life. It was about asking questions that had no easy answers, about finding the balance between nihilism and dogmatism, about nourishing awe for the abstract and gratefulness for the simple. Education became a way to enrich how I encountered the world—to find the world’s greatest riches in every conversation, meal, and task.
"The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function"
~ F. Scott Fitzgerald
Through this lens, my mentors and friends helped me see that learning had intrinsic meaning. It wasn’t about the next grade or test—it was about connecting with the world, with history, with the people who came before us and the ones yet to come. Learning is how we push humanity forward, how we explore the vast web of knowledge that binds literature, science, philosophy, and more together. I began to wonder, “Why did it take so long to find a place where curiosity was valued for its own sake?”
It was then that I realized how deeply flawed my schooling had been—and more importantly, that it didn’t have to be that way. The system wasn’t broken by accident; it was shaped by decisions made in rooms far removed from the students it was supposed to serve. Those decisions—born of misunderstanding and neglect—created a system that serves only a few, leaving the rest to flounder.
A student should never leave an educational environment feeling incompetent. Every person is the master of their own perspective. No matter how unintelligent someone is made to feel, no one can replicate their lived experience. These experiences shape our strengths and weaknesses, and finding the right environment that values these strengths determines how “smart” one feels. A fish judged on its ability to jump will always ignore its excellence in swimming.
After graduating UCSD in the midst of the pandemic, I took up teaching full-time, determined to put my ideas into practice. Rather than forcing a curriculum on my students, I tried to understand them, tapping into their innate strengths. Together, we built projects around their interests, connecting schoolwork to real-world applications. What I discovered was astonishing: every single one of my students had an incredible curiosity about the world, but their schooling had dulled that curiosity. They had been disconnected from their own drive to learn. It became clear that curiosity didn’t need to be built from the ground up—it just needed to stop being stifled.
This realization pushed me to explore education on a larger scale. I wanted to understand the forces shaping education and why meaningful change was so difficult to achieve. I moved to D.C. and began my graduate studies at Georgetown University, focusing on Public Policy and Data Science.
During my time at Georgetown, I realized one of the key reasons for stagnation: while many people care deeply about reforming education, there’s little collaboration between technology, policy, and research. Different actors have different visions for education, and these competing goals lead to fragmentation. To create meaningful change, we need a shared understanding of the system’s foundations.
“The most effective education does not measure how smart you are, but rather reveals the unique ways in which you express your intelligence.”
~ gy
As I delved deeper, I began interviewing people—starting with professors on campus—asking a single, fundamental question: “What is the purpose of education, and how does your perspective help us achieve that goal?” The answers varied widely. Economists spoke of education as a means to employment and economic growth. Others emphasized creating civically engaged citizens. Some even argued that schools should focus only on basic literacy and math. What started as a simple question opened up a world of deeper inquiries:
How should we fund schools? What is the purpose of knowledge? What is the role of higher education? Are educational opportunities truly equitable? What defines a good job?
Through asking these questions it soon became clear that I needed a global perspective. Limiting my understanding to American voices would give me only part of the picture.
For the past two years, I’ve been traveling the world, working with organizations, universities, and governments to understand their approaches to education reform.
Looking ahead, I envision a future where joy returns to learning. A future where we celebrate each individual’s strengths, free from constant comparisons and the pressure to chase outcomes that weren’t their own. Learning, at its core, should be joyful.
For the past eight years, teaching has been my greatest joy. Helping others find their passion and guiding them along their journey has been deeply fulfilling. My podcast keeps me grounded, offering me the chance to continue exploring the complex, ever-evolving world of education. My goal is to speak with as many people as possible, across disciplines and borders, to keep learning, understanding, and ultimately—changing how we think about education.
Love,
Goutham