Do Learning Disabilities Get Worse with Age? Unraveling the Myth

Author: Prabhash Chandra Jha

I am Prabhash Chandra Jha, and over the years, I have come to understand that I am not merely a teacher standing before a classroom—I am a seeker, quietly walking through the corridors of human understanding. My journey in education did not begin with deep philosophy. It began with structure—lesson plans, objectives, content delivery. But classrooms have a way of dissolving structure and revealing truth. Slowly, I began to notice what was never written in any textbook—the silence behind confidence, the hesitation behind correctness, the invisible weight carried by young minds. And in that noticing, something within me shifted. I realized that teaching is not the act of speaking. It is the art of seeing. There are days when a classroom appears calm, disciplined, and productive. Yet beneath that surface, many children are negotiating with their own fears, doubts, and comparisons. Some speak loudly to be heard. Some remain silent, waiting to be seen. And some quietly withdraw, believing they do not belong. It is in these unseen spaces that teaching truly begins. > Not every child who listens understands, Not every child who is silent is at peace. In the quiet corners of a classroom— Lives a world waiting for release. I began to question myself—not as a teacher, but as a human being. Am I responding, or merely reacting? Am I observing, or merely looking? Am I teaching, or simply completing? These questions did not make my journey easier. But they made it more honest. I found myself drawn toward the deeper essence of education, something our ancient wisdom has always reminded us of: > “सा विद्या या विमुक्तये” True education is that which liberates. Liberates—from fear, from comparison, from limitation. In this light, education is no longer about information. It becomes transformation. Through my experiences, I have come to believe that every child carries an inner universe—subtle, complex, and often unexpressed. And unless I learn to enter that universe with sensitivity, I remain only an instructor of subjects, not a facilitator of growth. This understanding found its expression through my writing on Prabhash.blog. I do not write as someone who has all the answers. I write as someone who has learned to sit with questions. My reflections emerge from real classrooms—from moments where I paused instead of reacted, where I listened instead of instructed, where I observed instead of assumed. Each piece of writing is an attempt to bridge the distance between what we do as teachers and what we truly intend. > I entered the classroom to teach a lesson, But stayed back to understand a life. Somewhere between instruction and silence— I found meaning beyond the strife. My thoughts resonate deeply with the vision of the National Education Policy 2020, which speaks of holistic development, emotional well-being, and child-centered learning. Yet, beyond policies, I believe transformation begins within the teacher—with awareness, with reflection, with the courage to see beyond the obvious. Philosophically, I find myself anchored in a simple yet profound truth: > “आत्मानं विद्धि” — Know thyself. The more I understand myself—my biases, my expectations, my responses—the more I am able to understand my students. Teaching, then, becomes a shared journey of discovery. It is no longer one guiding many. It becomes many journeys unfolding together. There are moments when I feel that the classroom is not a place of control, but a space of consciousness. Where every interaction carries energy. Where every word leaves an imprint. Where every silence speaks. And in that awareness, teaching transforms into something deeply human. > Not in authority, not in command— But in the warmth of a guiding hand. Not in perfection, not in control— But in touching quietly, the human soul. I did not begin this journey to teach. I began it to understand. And somewhere along the way, in understanding others, I found fragments of myself—refined, reshaped, and redefined. Today, when I stand in a classroom or write on my blog, I do so not as someone who has reached a destination, but as someone who continues to walk—with curiosity, with humility, and with a deep sense of responsibility. Because teaching, I have realized, is not what I give. It is what remains. View all posts by Prabhash Chandra Jha