A new chapter in Hinduism

HINDUISM IS a religion with no central text, no single major deity, no governing institution and no definitive rites of practice. This glorious disorder has always been part of its appeal to me. But I can see how it complicated the state Board of Education’s contentious, months-long attempt to edit its sixth-grade lesson on Hinduism, which was completed earlier this month.

The board’s action settles -- for now, at least -- a debate between Hindu organizations and various scholars about everything from word changes (from “gods and goddesses” to “deities”) to deliberate obfuscation (saying that women have “different” rights than men, instead of “fewer”). In the end, the board’s changes left most happy -- and some litigious. It deserves credit for its effort to create a more accurate curriculum.

For me, the debate evoked memories of my own religious education, as it were. Like most first-generation immigrants to the United States, my parents did their best to cobble together a community for my brother and me. But learning about Hinduism was not easy, even living in diverse Southern California. Family friends included Jains and Sikhs, or Hindus who practiced differently because of geographic, linguistic or other disparities. Celebrating holidays often meant whittling traditions and rituals down to the most common factor and divorcing them from explicit religious teachings. Attending services at the nearest temple -- 25 miles away -- was only an occasional event.

So most of my knowledge of Hinduism before the sixth grade came not from an institution or a community but from comic books and television. I voraciously read the stories of Hinduism in comic books -- replete with battles between gods and demons but also with lessons on philosophy. I learned the “Mahabharata” by watching weekly installments of a made-for-TV version aired on Los Angeles’ Channel 18. (In that distant, pre-DVD era, my mom dutifully videotaped nearly 100 episodes so I would have the entire series for future reference.)

When I learned about Hinduism in the sixth grade, then, there was a gratifying sense of legitimacy. My temples might have been tucked away in former bank offices, and my scripture might have been from comic books, but Hinduism was codified as one of the world’s major religions right there in my social studies textbook.

Today, Indian American children have a greater sense of legitimacy than I did as a 12-year-old a dozen years ago. Hindu temples are increasing in number, size and ambition. The Shri Lakshmi Narayan Mandir in Riverside, founded when I was in sixth grade, offers everything from multilingual services to youth classes to Indian-style architecture. From 1990 to 2001, three times as many Hindus identified themselves as such to the Census Bureau. Indian Americans are gaining more political clout -- which helps explain why textbooks are finally going to change.

It was heartening for me to read about Hinduism then, despite the misrepresentations, which I could at least address for my classmates. Now, the new standards -- and knowing Hindus had the clout to get them changed -- will only make the lessons more heartening for young Hindus.

Swati Pandey