Sunita Swaraj - Personal Website

Hello!

This is Sunita Swaraj

Welcome to my
Personal Website

My Story

My story could be yours too.

It came to me like a whisper, quiet as monsoon mist over cracked earth, a voice not loud, but certain.

A whisper not from the world, but from within~
“My story could be yours too.”

At first, I ignored it. Like you might ignore the rustling of leaves on a tired afternoon. But it kept returning, gently, insistently , until I could no longer turn away.

I was born in a city where buildings touched the clouds and horns never slept.
Where dreams were stitched between traffic lights and television commercials.

But dreams, like rivers, are often diverted.

At twenty-two, I was married. A red veil was pulled over my head.
And with that veil came silence.
Not just fabric ~ it was a border.
Soft, but binding.

One step across it, and my world changed.

From the cacophony of the city, I entered a village wrapped in stillness. Time here did not rush, it lingered, like the scent of rain on dust.
The walls whispered old customs. The trees spoke only in rituals.

There was no going back.

One afternoon, tangled in doubt and dust, my husband looked at me and said just four words- “Tu shuruat toh kar.”
You just begin.

It was not a grand speech. But it cracked open a door I thought was long sealed shut.
Something shifted.

After sweeping the courtyard, folding hundreds of clothes, lighting the chulha before dawn, and serving tea without a sound, I did something small. Something almost scandalous.

I started teaching.

No chalkboards. No uniforms. No fees. Just dusty slates, borrowed time, and children with bright eyes.
My courtyard became a classroom. My afternoons, once silent, buzzed with questions.

“Didi, why is the sky blue?”
“Can I be a doctor?”
“Can I be… like you?”

They did not know I was still figuring out who I was.

But in their eyes, I saw her!
The girl with city breath and fire in her lungs.
She was still there, under the veil.
Under the years.

That moment was not just a beginning. It was a remembering.

What followed were years of becoming, A teacher. A learner. A principal. A mother. A voice.

Today, I lead one of Delhi’s most progressive schools The Heritage School, Vasant Kunj , where I have served as Principal for over a decade.
In 2024, I was honoured with the Delhi State Award for Excellence in Education, a moment that reminded me of all the quiet classrooms and loud dreams that led me here.

And yes, today, the journey continues. From village to voice.
From silence to Harvard.
But that is not the heart of this story.

The heart is this If you have ever folded yourself into corners, and quietly unfolded again,
If you have ever felt the tug of two worlds , one that raised you, one that caged you
If you have ever waited for permission, and then gave it to yourself

Then maybe…
My story could be yours too.

My Work

My work lives at the intersection of education, equity, empathy, and change.

For over two decades, I have dedicated myself to reimagining what schools can be, not just places of instruction, but spaces of transformation. As the Principal of The Heritage School, Vasant Kunj, I have worked to make learning experiential, inclusive, and joyful. I have collaborated with educators, children, and families to create a school culture where curiosity thrives, diversity is celebrated, and every learner feels seen.

With a background in guidance and counselling, I have placed mental health and emotional well-being at the heart of the educational experience. I truly believe that happy teachers build happy schools, and that the emotional safety of educators, students, and parents is non-negotiable.

My work extends beyond school boundaries, I have actively partnered with organisations like Sarvam Shakti to empower young girls through platforms for learning, creativity, and self-expression. From training and hiring interns to supporting economically weaker section (EWS) learners with dignity and equity, I believe in creating opportunities that transform not just individuals, but entire communities.

Whether it is designing meaningful learning spaces, hosting career fairs with intent and purpose, advocating for inclusive practices, or shaping teacher development with care, my work is rooted in one enduring question

What does it truly mean to prepare a child for life?

That question continues to guide me , every day.

Future Vision

Education must evolve, not with trends, but with truth.
The truth that each child learns differently.
That well-being is foundational, not optional.
That equity is not a policy, it is a daily practice.
That the future is uncertain, but our values can be constant.

My vision for the future of education is rooted in this truth, that schools must prepare children for life, not just for exams. I dream of learning spaces where

Thinking is valued over rote
Mental health is part of the timetable
Teachers are nurtured, not just trained
Art, music, movement, and silence are seen as essential, not extra
Every child feels safe enough to be curious, brave enough to fail, and strong enough to rise again

This next chapter of my life takes me to Harvard University, where I am pursuing my Master’s in Education. I carry with me two decades of school leadership, the voices of countless children, teachers, and families and a deep desire to explore the future of learning from a global lens.

This is not a detour. It is a continuation.
A chance to pause, to reflect, to question, and to return, wiser, more rooted, and ready to shape systems with both courage and compassion.

I hope to use this experience to build models of whole-child education. where academic depth walks alongside emotional intelligence, purpose, and play. I dream of crafting new frameworks for teacher empowerment, especially for women from underserved communities. I want to contribute to a future where schools become equity-driven ecosystems, designed for joy, justice, and possibility.

And most of all, I want to remain a learner
Of children, of change, of life.

This is not just a vision.
It is a promise.
And it is only just begun.

A Note For The Women

To every woman who has ever been told “not now”
To every teacher who wonders if they are doing enough
To every leader who dares to dream differently

Start anyway.

You do not need to have it all figured out.
You just need to begin, even if your classroom is a courtyard, even if your voice trembles, even if the path feels lonely at first.

Transformation does not always come with loud declarations. Sometimes, it begins in whispers.
I have learned to listen to mine.

If you are standing at a threshold, wondering if it is too late, it is not.
If you are afraid you will forget who you were, you would not.
You will meet her again, stronger, clearer, bolder.

This is not just my story.
It could be yours too.
And I am cheering you on.

Sunita Swaraj