The power of mother tongue in education

Himangshu Ranjan Bhuyan

(himangshur1989@gmail.com)

Language is the invisible architecture of the mind. From the moment a child utters their first word, their mother tongue becomes the lens through which they interpret the world, internalise concepts, and express their deepest thoughts. In classrooms across the globe, the medium of instruction profoundly shapes learning outcomes, emotional well-being, and cultural identity. Recognising the power of mother tongue in education is not an abstract ideal; it is a practical necessity for forging confident, capable learners and preserving the rich tapestry of human heritage.

Decades of cognitive research affirm that children learn most effectively when taught in the language they speak at home. When complex ideas are conveyed in familiar terms, students can build mental models with clarity and speed. Conversely, when instruction is delivered in an unfamiliar tongue, learners devote mental energy to decoding language rather than grasping subject matter. This cognitive overload undermines comprehension and saps motivation. Studies by UNESCO and other educational bodies consistently show that mother-tongue instruction in early grades produces stronger foundations in literacy and numeracy, which in turn support higher-order thinking skills and lifelong learning.

The academic dividends of mother-tongue education extend far beyond the primary years. When learners establish fluency and confidence in their first language, they develop robust reading and writing habits that carry over to second and third languages. Research in multilingual contexts—from parts of Africa to Southeast Asia—demonstrates that a solid grounding in a native tongue accelerates the acquisition of additional languages by up to 40 per percent. In practical terms, this means that students who read Shakespeare or solve algebraic equations in their mother tongue encounter fewer barriers and achieve deeper mastery than peers thrust prematurely into a foreign medium.

Equally significant are the emotional and psychological benefits of native-language education. A child’s first language is bound up with family histories, folk tales, and shared memories. When schools honour that language, students experience a sense of belonging and respect that bolsters self-esteem. Conversely, a curriculum that sidelines the mother tongue can alienate young learners, leaving them feeling unmoored from both home and classroom. In regions where colonial legacies elevated foreign languages above local ones, generations of students internalised the idea that their native speech was inadequate or inferior. Reversing this mindset begins in the earliest school years, when recognition of a child’s linguistic heritage lays the groundwork for positive self-image and resilience.

Beyond individual growth, mother-tongue education strengthens social cohesion and equity. In multilingual societies, a shared medium of instruction can either unify or fracture communities. When governments enforce a single, often urban-centric language, rural and marginalised groups suffer disproportionately. Dropout rates climb as children struggle to follow lessons in a language they seldom use. By contrast, providing education in regional languages empowers communities to participate fully in civic life and local governance. India’s Northeast, with its mosaic of Assamese, Bodo, Karbi, Mising, and more, offers a compelling case: schools that teach in local tongues report higher attendance, lower dropout rates, and stronger engagement among tribal and rural students.

Yet the promise of mother-tongue education is tempered by formidable challenges. Developing high-quality curricula, textbooks, and assessment tools in multiple regional languages demands substantial investment. Translating specialised subjects—physics, economics, medicine—into vernacular idioms requires collaboration among linguists, subject experts, and pedagogues. Teacher training presents another hurdle: many educators lack the certification or confidence to teach in languages other than the national or global lingua franca. Overcoming these obstacles calls for strategic policymaking and community involvement, with governments, universities, and NGOs pooling resources to create repositories of open-access materials and train cohorts of bilingual teachers.

Societal attitudes present a subtler but equally potent barrier. Across India and beyond, English remains synonymous with opportunity and prestige. Parents, anxious to secure their children’s upward mobility, often favour English-medium schools despite steep tuition fees and the strain of unfamiliar instruction. Shifting this deep-rooted perception demands evidence and advocacy. Success stories from Finland and the Netherlands illustrate that starting education in the mother tongue does not preclude English proficiency. In Finland, primary students learn exclusively in Finnish before gradually adding English; Finnish youth consistently rank among the world’s top performers in global assessments of both mathematics and foreign-language skills. These examples prove that linguistic pride and global competency are not mutually exclusive.

Policy frameworks are beginning to catch up with research insights. India’s National Education Policy 2020 explicitly recommends mother-tongue instruction through at least Grade 5 and preferably until Grade 8 before transitioning to Hindi, English, or other languages. The challenge now is implementation. States must allocate budgets for textbook production, support digital learning platforms with content in regional tongues, and incentivise teacher training institutes to offer language-specific pedagogy courses. Civil society and community groups can accelerate progress by producing localised storybooks, audiovisual materials, and mobile apps that celebrate regional languages and cultures.

Digital technology offers a particularly promising avenue. E-books, interactive learning modules, and AI-driven language apps can deliver customised lessons in dozens of local dialects at a fraction of traditional printing costs. In Bangladesh, the government’s e-learning initiative in Bengali has reached millions of rural students, dramatically narrowing urban-rural achievement gaps. Similar projects in Assam—a state with over thirty recognised mother tongues—could harness mobile connectivity to bring quality instruction to remote hamlets, where teacher shortages and infrastructure deficits have long constrained learning.

Educational equity also hinges on preserving minority and tribal languages. UNESCO warns that half of the world’s estimated 7,000 languages face extinction by century’s end. Each lost language erases unique ways of knowing, traditional ecological insights, and oral literature that no translation can fully capture.

Incorporating endangered languages into school curricula revitalises them, transforming classrooms into incubators of cultural revival. Programs in New Zealand to teach Maori in primary schools have led to a resurgence of the language among youth, spurring community pride and intergenerational transmission.

Economic considerations further underscore mother-tongue education’s importance. Workers who master technical skills in their first language enter the labour market more competently and innovatively. Germany’s vocational training system, conducted primarily in German, produces highly skilled tradespeople whose expertise underpins the nation’s status as an industrial powerhouse. In Assam, integrating Assamese language instruction with training in agriculture, handloom, and sustainable tourism could spur entrepreneurship rooted in local knowledge, generating livelihood opportunities that honour cultural traditions while driving economic growth.

At its core, mother-tongue education is a statement about human dignity. It asserts that every child deserves to learn in a language that resonates with their identity, history, and aspirations. It rejects the notion that global languages must supplant local ones, advocating instead for a multilingual landscape where every tongue has its place. By strengthening the voices of the many, rather than amplifying only the few, societies cultivate creativity, innovation, and social harmony.

As India charts its educational future, Assam and other linguistically diverse states have an opportunity to lead a quiet revolution. By embracing mother-tongue instruction, investing in resources and training, and showcasing success stories, they can demonstrate that linguistic diversity is not a barrier but a bridge to inclusive development. Parents, teachers, policymakers, and community leaders must converge around a shared vision: classrooms where the language a child speaks at home is the language that empowers them to explore, question, and excel.

In an era of unprecedented global interconnectedness, the power of the mother tongue may seem counterintuitive to some. Yet it is precisely this rootedness that enables learners to soar. A child fluent in their native idiom possesses the cognitive tools, emotional confidence, and cultural grounding to navigate the complexities of the modern world. When education systems honour that first language, they nurture citizens who are both proud of their heritage and ready to engage with the wider globe. That is the transformative power of mother tongue in education—and it is an investment in humanity’s shared future.