By Imlisanen Jamir
A few months ago, I wrote an editorial that touched briefly on Joyce and memory. That earlier piece is only a link to why this moment feels timely. What matters now is what unfolded at Kohima College this week, where a workshop on James Joyce gave students a chance to think and respond in ways their classrooms do not always allow.
In Nagaland, as in most close-knit places, young people grow up surrounded by expectations. Family, church, and tribe each offer their own idea of what a person should be. Schools often reinforce this by valuing tidy answers over uncertainty. None of this is malicious, but it can leave little room for students to understand themselves on their own terms.
The workshop created a small pause in that routine. The activities—free writing, improvisation, paying attention to small details—were simple. Yet they asked students to be open about what they actually see and feel. Writing without filtering is not dramatic, but it is unfamiliar for many who are used to choosing the safest words first.
Students wrote about family expectations and about things they usually keep to themselves. When they realised that others in the room carried similar worries or hopes, the atmosphere changed. They stopped trying to present the version of themselves they thought was expected, and spoke more plainly. It was not defiance; just a moment of honesty that is rare in formal settings.
Joyce’s Dublin and Nagaland look nothing alike, yet the concerns in his stories—duty, hesitation, the weight of silence—are easy to recognise here. Through his characters, students were not studying Ireland so much as examining the patterns in their own lives with a little more clarity.
The real strength of the workshop lies in this shift. It is less about studying a writer and more about giving young people room to notice their own thoughts without judgement. In a place where tradition and politeness carry so much weight, that kind of space can be hard to find.
Education should help students see more, not simply repeat what has already been handed down to them. For some who attended, this may have been the first time they were encouraged to speak in their own voice, however quietly. There were no grand declarations, only a group of students thinking with fewer filters than usual.
Moments like that should not feel exceptional.
Comments can be sent to imlisanenjamir@gmail.com
