Written by: Denissa Almyra Putri
We all carry memories of our first day at schools – when our parents were holding our nervous hands, carrying a too-big backpack, and wave as we walked in, and when we eagerly told them stories on how the day went when they picked us up. These silent memories marked our parents love and determination to get us ahead.
As we mark Global Parents Day, we reflect not just as observers, but as sons, daughters, and parents ourselves. Across Indonesia, in the hidden mountainous valleys and along the narrow alleys of fishing villages along the coastlines, remarkable and unique stories unfold daily. In West Java, not far from the nation’s capital, we hear echoes of stories; about parents who turn geographical isolation into collective spirit, who transform economic barriers into resilience, and prove that education knows no boundaries. They are heroes who turn every obstacle into opportunities for their children.
From Plantation Area to Classroom
Several days a week, Suryatna travels by motorcycle along damaged rocky roads to a small rural elementary school. Nestled beneath a mountain, this tiny school serves just 28 students with seven teachers, located 30 kilometers outside of the nearest city of Sumedang, West Java, in the heart of an intact forest.
Decades ago, Suryatna walked the same 8-kilometer path daily as a student. Today, as a chairman of the school’s parent committee, he ensures his daughter had better access to education – even if it’s just with the help of motorcycle ride instead of that long, lonely walk. Working as a plantation worker near the village and alumnus of the same school, Suryatna understands well the challenges faced. “Back in my days, my parents didn’t have a vehicle yet. I walked about 8 kilometers round trip every day,” he recalled. “Now I can take the children by motorcycle – though they still walk home.”
However, Suryatna vision extends beyond transportation and walkable path to school. He dreams of converting an old house next to the school into a proper library, replacing the cramped reading corners with limited books. His leadership represents something profound – a pivotal era where parents in remote areas organizing themselves to demand not only a better educational access for their communities, but also quality children’s books and learning resources.
Rewriting Traditional Roles
Meanwhile, at a fishing village in the coastal of Cirebon, West Java, fathers are quietly redefining what it means to be a parent in a traditional community. Here, men don’t just catch fish – they catch precious moments to help with their children’s homework after long days at sea.
Ratih, who spends her mornings peeling crabs and her days managing household duties, describes her family rhythm: “I work as a crab peeler in the morning, wash clothes during the day and then cook for the family – so I’m exhausted by evening. At night, Alif (my son) studies with his father.”
Her husband, Raskim, embodies this new model of fatherhood. After returning from sea or selling fish at the market, he sits with their third-grader a few times during a week, helping with homework and lessons. This pattern is also reflected in other households in Ambulu, where another student at sixth grade, Dise, often receives assistance from his father – a university graduate – to ensure her excellency academically.
“Dise is always first in her class,” says her mother Nenti . “She studies with her father every night because he understands the lessons better. Even though I rarely help with studying, we hope Dise can continue her education as high as possible.”
Parents as Collective Force
What happens in Sumedang and Cirebon is not an anomaly, but rather a representation of hidden strength that moves education, even in remote areas. Despite existing barriers in accessing educational assistance, these parents organize themselves, share responsibilities, and create a sustainable educational ecosystem.
In Sumedang, parents collaborate on everything – from carpooling children to school – to converting an empty house into a school kitchen. In Cirebon, fathers exchange strategies for helping their children study after their fishing duties. These grassroots efforts prove that communities’ creativity can move far beyond existing limitations.
The story of Suryatna who now leads the school committee after once struggling as a student, or Raskim and other fishermen fathers who redefine traditional parenting roles for their children’s future, reminds us that educational progress begins with one fundamental decision of refusing to surrender to circumstances. When parents refuse to give up, neither do their children.