CHENNAI: At noon, while most headmasters would be behind a desk, a whistle pierces the air at the Government High School in Perumbakkam. Near the midday meal queue stands a man, watching every child receive lunch. He looks more like a physical education teacher than the head of the institution. Moments later, he joins the students, eating the very same meal served under the noon-meal scheme.
The headmaster’s room sits empty.
For C Shakthi Sivam (51), leadership is rarely exercised from an office. It is found on the volleyball court before sunrise, in the lunch queue at noon, and at the doorstep of students who stop coming to school. The whistle around his neck has become the sound of a school that has transformed itself.
Ask anyone in the neighbourhood about the school, and the answer comes almost instantly. “The school changed after this headmaster came.” The transformation is difficult to ignore.
Three years ago, only 41% of Class 10 students at the school passed their board exams. Fast forward to the last academic year (2025-26), the institution achieved a perfect 100% pass rate. But the final flourish came when nine students who had dropped out of school were persuaded to return, continue their studies, and pass the examination.
For Shakthi, the man behind this reform, the numbers tell only part of the story. “When I came here, it was one of the biggest challenges in my career,” he recalls.
Most students studying at the school belong to families in the nearby Tamil Nadu Urban Habitat Development Board (TNUHDB) resettlement. Their parents, largely daily wage earners and housekeeping staff, leave home before dawn to travel 15 to 25 km to workplaces across Chennai.
“By the time the children wake up, there is often nobody at home to send them to school,” Shakthi says. “Attendance was as poor as the pass percentage.”
However, absenteeism was just the tip of the iceberg. With disinterested students honing a myriad of colours in their hair, the campus echoed neglect and a lack of discipline. Garbage and empty liquor bottles littered on the grounds, and with miscreants using the campus at night, the institution barely resembled a school.
Many were oblivious to this absurd reality but accepted it anyway. But for Shakthi, they were more than deep-rooted problems awaiting a solution. They resembled his own past.
Shakthi, the son of a farmer and a daily wage worker, grew up hearing his mother Unnamalai’s words: “Our daily wage should not become your future. Study well.” And so, he did, as his mother’s words echoed throughout his life and enlightened a spark to make a generational change. When he entered the government service as a teacher in 2007, his first posting was at a government school in Kavulpalayam in Perambalur, where most students came from families working in brick kilns. It was there that he spotted another source of inspiration — the then Perambalur collector, Darez Ahamed, who was actively working to identify school dropouts and bring them back into the classroom.
Stirred by those efforts, Shakthi found his purpose. He kick-started his mission to rekindle the school spirit on the premises of the Perumbakkam Government High School. With the support of local police, CCTV cameras were installed around the campus to prevent trespassing. The school grounds were cleaned up, and nearly 125 trees were planted, turning an unkempt campus into a green and safe learning space.
Yet, the metamorphic change that took place was neither through the infrastructure nor the greenery but through the headmaster’s love for volleyball.
A volleyball enthusiast since his childhood, Shakthi believed sports could become the impetus that brought children back to school. Instead of asking students to attend classes first, he invited them to play.
Every morning, though classes begin only at 9.10 am, dozens of students reach the campus as early as 6 am, with the headmaster waiting for them at the gate. Once the habit of coming to school was in motion, he gradually introduced academics into their routine. In the years that followed, the school’s Class 10 pass percentage rose from 41%(2022-23) to 58%(2023-24), then to 91%(2024-25), before reaching 100% last academic year.
In his previous school, Shakthi had spent 16 years personally meeting parents, persuading children to return to classrooms, and eventually achieving full attendance. When he was transferred to Perumbakkam, he brought along the same philosophy. Even today, if a student remains absent, Shakthi often visits the child’s home personally to ensure they attend daily classes.
The school has earned its name, and several NGOs have also joined hands with the institution. Heart for India provides snacks for students. Thozhamai supports educational activities, while Ezhudhuga Kuzhu encourages children to become authors. One such student, K Sanjana of Class 9, has already published a Tamil book titled Ettu Aadukku Kudisai through the initiative.
Shakthi, the proud headmaster, says, “I make my students draw maps and paste them on the walls of their homes so that recurrent engagement helps them grasp geography lessons.”
Whilst he regularly eats food at the noon-meal centre, ensuring its quality for his students, sometimes he even helps prepare the food. “Many children come to school with empty stomachs, but I ensure they eat properly once they are at school,” he reassures.
His wife, Dr K Jayakumari, he says, has been his strongest pillar of support throughout the journey. He also acknowledged that, without the support of other teachers at the school, this mission would have been out of question.
For Shakthi, education has never ended at the school gate. He attends weddings and family functions whenever students’ parents invite him. “I’ve even attended funerals. I want to be a part of their community to understand what they face and bring about solutions,” he says. “I know what it means to grow up in poverty. I don’t blame either the parents or the children,” he says. “But the last thing I want is the next generation to end up living the same life.”
Standing on the volleyball court, with a whistle around his neck, Shakthi barely resembles the conventional portrayal of a headmaster. Perhaps that’s precisely why this school changed.