Sister Joel Urumpil remembers the first day in Gopalpur, a small, isolated settlement in Jharkhand’s Chatra district. The Birhor families there live close to the forest, gathering herbs and firewood to survive. Government houses stand unfinished. School had never taken root.
“When we spoke about education, there was little response,” Sister Joel said. “People asked what it would change.”
The questions were practical. School requires routine, supplies, and time. For families with no steady income or secure housing, those demands felt out of reach.
Still, the Sisters chose to begin again.
They found a teacher willing to meet children where they were. There was no classroom. Lessons took place outside, near the homes. On the first day, three children came. The next day, they were gone. Two others appeared.
The teacher kept returning. He visited families, sat with them, and observed daily life. He noticed children lying in the sun, with little to occupy them. He did not press. He stayed present.
After two months, a dozen children began attending. By six months, there were 25. Each brought a plastic sheet or sack to sit on. One girl arrived early each day to sweep the ground and prepare a place for the teacher. Adults began to watch and join in.
“What changed was their sense of belonging,” Sister Joel said.
The children grew in confidence. They chose to take part in local events, walking several miles to attend. Dressed in bright colors, they danced and competed.
For Sister Joel, the change in Gopalpur points to something larger. The work is not only about teaching letters or numbers. It is about helping families see that their children have worth and a place in the wider world. That is central to the mission of the Sisters of Charity of Nazareth, who commit to stand with people on the margins and support paths toward justice and opportunity.
Education, in this setting, becomes a first step. It builds routine, trust, and a sense of possibility. It also invites the wider community to take part, as seen in the adults who now sit in on lessons and the children who step forward in public spaces.
There are still gaps. Housing remains incomplete. Work is uncertain. Access to basic needs is limited. But the presence of a daily class has begun to shift expectations. Families are starting to ask not whether education matters, but how it can continue.
Sister Joel sees this as part of a longer effort shaped by her faith calling, where each person is recognized with dignity, and each community is invited to grow through shared responsibility. In Gopalpur, that work begins in small, consistent ways, with a teacher who shows up, children who return, and a community that slowly opens to change.
Under the open sky, the classes continue.