The silent spine of Academia: The Teaching Assistants

One of the most critical and agonizing phases in the life of an academic is the struggle for financial stability and social legitimacy. It is a juncture marked not only by professional uncertainty but also by deep emotional and existential disquiet. Tragically, our higher education institutions — which should be sanctuaries of learning and justice — have become complicit in perpetuating structural inequities. The education system, especially in its decaying bureaucratic form, has become predatory, targeting the most exposed and vulnerable: the young minds who enter academia with dreams, brilliance, and moral clarity.

Nowhere is this more visible than in the plight of Teaching Assistants. In universities across Sindh — and many such regions — TAs are recruited under the guise of opportunity, with a promise of eventual inclusion into the institutional framework. Yet, beneath this veneer lies a darker reality: they are appointed at meager wages and expected to shoulder the full responsibilities of seasoned faculty members. At first, this may appear to be a stepping stone, a bridge to recognition. But year after year, despite their tireless labor and commitment, they remain outsiders — unseen, unheard, and unacknowledged.

Teaching is not merely a profession; it is a moral calling. The brightest among us do not choose it for material gain, but out of an unshakable passion to educate, uplift, and shape futures. However, these very educators — our Teaching Assistants — are systematically excluded from strategic decision-making, deprived of mentorship, professional development, and recognition — not because of any deficiency on their part, but because their marginalization has become normalized within institutional culture.

This is not mere oversight. This is engineered neglect.

Most of the academic operations in our universities are sustained on the backs of TAs. They are the ones who prepare course material, counsel students, conduct examinations, and carry the intellectual weight of departments — often with no office, no contract security, and no voice in faculty meetings. And yet, the administrative apparatus trains its employees to observe a hierarchy that is neither meritocratic nor ethical. Junior staff are taught to respond not to competence, but to perceived authority and power.

I speak today — and will continue to speak — for these young scholars because I, too, was once among them. I know what it means to feel invisible. To work without recognition. To be consumed by anxiety while holding on to the fragile hope that one day, the system will notice your worth. These individuals are not just contributors to academic delivery — they are its lifeblood. Without them, there is no teaching, no mentorship, no transformative learning. A university that ignores its Teaching Assistants cannot claim to educate.

We have a choice.

We can either conform to the apathy of other institutions, or we can chart a new course. We can choose to redefine our academic culture. We can begin by naming and recognizing Teaching Assistants as integral stakeholders — not as temporary helpers, but as future professors, department heads, and thought leaders. We must offer them not just employment, but dignity. Not just responsibility, but opportunity.

Let us move away from fear-based administration. Let us abandon the misguided belief that control is achieved through silence. These young academics are not threats — they are promise. They are not burdens — they are beacons. If we do not value them, someone else will. And that someone will be wiser, more just, and more attuned to the future.

While we may not have the means to resolve national crises, we possess the power to transform our immediate academic environment. Let us begin with shared values: respect, transparency, and inclusion. Let us ensure that no educator feels disposable. That no mind is left in the margins. For the true mark of an enlightened institution is not in its infrastructure or rankings, but in the dignity with which it treats its people.

If we wish to create institutions that endure — in purpose, in spirit, in impact — we must begin by honoring those who serve them in silence.