In most Indian schools and colleges, annual days, cultural fests, or student felicitations come with a predictable announcement: the “chief guest” will be a politician or a celebrity. More often than not, these individuals are barely educated, sometimes proudly so. And yet, they are brought on stage to motivate students to study well, work hard, and succeed in life.
There’s a strange irony in watching a school principal introduce a guest who has either dropped out of school or barely passed high school exams, as someone who will now “inspire the youth.” The students, dressed in uniforms and bound by rigid academic pressure, sit in silence as the guest—who may never have attended college—tells them that “education is the key to success.”
This is not to say that all successful people must be formally educated. Nor is it to undermine the intelligence or lived experience of self-made individuals. But what message do we send when the face of success on a school stage is someone who circumvented the very path we are asking students to follow?
The Mixed Signals
India has long been a society where celebrity often trumps credibility. A movie star with a massive following, or a local MLA who can draw crowds, becomes an instant role model, regardless of their personal journey through education. Their achievements—though often admirable—are exceptions, not the rule. They made it despite the odds, not because of a lack of education.
The contradiction becomes even sharper when these guests stand behind a mic and say things like:
“I was never good in studies, but look at me now.”
Or worse: “Marks don’t matter. What matters is passion.”
Try telling that to a 17-year-old battling exam pressure, preparing for NEET, JEE, or any one of India’s hyper-competitive entrance exams. For them, marks do matter. Passion doesn’t get you a seat in IIT or AIIMS. Hard work, consistency, and brutal academic discipline do.
Education as Tokenism
What makes this contradiction dangerous is how it subtly undermines the value of education. If the system consistently celebrates the success of those who bypassed academics, while ignoring the achievements of scholars, scientists, educators, or even honest bureaucrats, it risks turning education into a token gesture rather than a respected path.
Where are the physics professors, social workers, authors, engineers, or doctors on the dais? Where are the people who truly lived the values schools pretend to teach—discipline, learning, growth?
Instead, we often see people whose only qualification is popularity. A film star might be able to dance well or deliver punchlines on screen—but is that enough reason to tell students how to shape their lives?
Role Models Should Reflect the Message
Children learn more by example than by instruction. When a child sees a guest speaker celebrated despite never valuing education, what she really hears is: “It’s okay if you don’t care about school. You can still become someone important.” But that’s a dangerous and misleading generalization.
Shouldn’t the role models in schools mirror the ideals being taught? Shouldn’t the ones speaking about education be people who genuinely embody its worth? An inspiring teacher, a civil servant who came from a rural background, a scientist who broke through class and caste barriers, a writer who shaped public opinion—these are the kinds of figures students should hear from. Not merely because of their degrees, but because their stories reflect the true power of learning.
Conclusion: Reclaiming the Dignity of Learning
It’s time Indian schools and colleges reassess who gets to stand on stage as a role model. Celebrating success should not mean glorifying shortcuts. Motivation should not come wrapped in contradiction. It should be rooted in authenticity, relevance, and respect for the very values we wish to instill.
There’s nothing wrong with inviting a celebrity or politician—provided they’ve walked the talk and have something of substance to offer. But when our default choice becomes a person with no respect or regard for education, the system inadvertently tells students: “Education matters… but not really.”
And that is not just ironic. It’s tragic.