Education

The Woman Who Refused to Disappear – Aditi Sharma’s Quiet Fight for Education

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In a quiet corner of Karnal, Haryana, Aditi Sharma runs a small school for underprivileged children. She is the founder, principal, and often, the only teacher. As a transgender woman in North India, her journey has been marked by resistance and isolation — but also by unwavering commitment. Her school may lack formal recognition or resources, but it stands as a space of learning, inclusion, and quiet resilience.

Aditi is not just the founder and principal of Haryana Public School. She is also a transgender woman who dared to imagine a different kind of North India — one where prejudice makes way for possibility, and education belongs to everyone.

But dreams, she learned early on, come at a cost.

Born and raised in Delhi, Aditi was no stranger to the stereotypes that shadow the transgender community.

“Even educated people carry the assumption that all trans people beg or perform ceremonial rituals. That’s the stereotype I grew up seeing around me,” she says.

It disturbed her and lit the fuse of quiet rebellion.

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Leaving Delhi behind, she moved to Karnal with one goal: to build a school not just for visibility, but for children who had nowhere else to go. Her father, unaware she had come out, gave her a 1,200-square-yard plot to build on. “At the time, I hadn’t fully come out. Had they known I was transgender, they wouldn’t have named it to me.”

What she built wasn’t just a school — it was a statement.

In the beginning, there were no teachers, no steady funds, and no blueprint. “I doubted whether I could run a school at all. I had no confidence. But slowly, a few children started coming in. Then a few more. At one point, we had 60–70 students.”

That number dropped, not due to a lack of dedication, but constant harassment. Neighbours let their dogs loose outside. Parents were warned, “Why send your child there? This isn’t a real school.” Some believed her identity disqualified her from leadership, from teaching, from existing with dignity.

She persisted anyway.

Aditi never set out to run a school for underprivileged children. It wasn’t a strategic choice or a targeted mission. It was simply what remained when everyone else walked away. Families who could afford higher fees refused to send their children to a school run by a transgender woman. Teachers quit under social pressure. So she opened her doors to those who had nowhere else to go — children whose families could pay ₹100 a month, sometimes just ₹50, and often nothing at all. “If they don’t learn here, they won’t learn anywhere,” she says. And so she teaches — not because it’s easy, but because no one else will.

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Her day begins at 4 AM — cleaning, prepping, sourcing supplies. By 8 AM, she’s teaching English, guiding students through computing tasks, or painting with them on borrowed desktops. She buys second-hand books herself. There are no permanent staff members. Most teachers leave within weeks. “They say, ‘My family doesn’t want me working here.’ The social pressure is immense.”

Once, a neighbour handed her a one-day-old baby and walked away. Aditi cared for her. When the child fell ill, she spent 12 days at the hospital with her — and the other children. Alone. “They don’t speak to me anymore,” she says of her family. “I’ve learned to let go. If someone doesn’t want to stay in touch, that’s okay. You still have to be happy.”

Haryana Public School is still not recognised by the state government. Despite its large plot, authorities claim she doesn’t meet the criteria. “Other schools on smaller land get recognised,” she says. “But because I’m transgender, they say no.” Her case is currently being reviewed by the Human Rights Commission. Justice Lalit Batra, in a hearing, reportedly said:

“If she doesn’t meet your current rule, change the rule.”

Meanwhile, the children continue to learn — with donated books, basic tools, and the irrepressible will of one woman. Aditi has even built two giant model airplanes — one stretching 20 feet — from scrap and wood. “They don’t fly, but they spark curiosity. Ten children can sit inside. It makes them dream.”

And dreams are something she insists on, even when the world offers no applause. “One child had developmental issues. No school would take him. People told me I was wasting my time. But he deserved a chance.”

Sometimes, appreciation is scarce. Respect even more so. “When parents don’t respect you, neither do their children,” she admits. “When your own life is a constant struggle, it becomes hard to build emotional bonds.”

But she still shows up every day. Reporters ask why so many people visit her school. “Because we’re doing something that shakes the norms,” she tells the children. “This school is special.”
And they believe her. Because children don’t discriminate. Adults do.

Her message to the transgender community is clear:

“Don’t wait for society to accept you. Build your own path. Even if you’re the only one walking it.”

Aditi Sharma may be the only openly transgender woman in North India running a school. But she’s not asking for sympathy. Just space. Just dignity. Just the right to show up — and not disappear.

“Even if only one child comes,” she says,
“I’ll keep the doors open.”

 

Read the full story in our latest Teacher Warriors issue: https://scoonews.com/magazines/scoonews-june-july-2025-digital-edition/

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