My study primarily employs a qualitative methodology, using methods such as interviews, observations and focus group discussions to collect data. I carried out semi-structured interviews with parents, teachers, and administrators. The interviews were conducted over a period of several months, from July to November 2025. Schools are the primary entry point for accessing respondents. I conducted most of the interviews outside the schools on benches, except for a few conducted on benches along Mall Road. I conducted surveys and interviews without participating in the everyday affairs of middle-class families, nor did I participate in school activities. Needless to say, this raises concerns about the limited intimate collection of the data in the field (Srinivas et al., 2004).

Most respondents were women, as they are primarily involved in their children’s education. In terms of caste composition, except for a few Dalit respondents, the majority belonged to privileged castes. Although the presence of Dalits in the district of Shimla exceeds one-fourth, these reputed schools are not spaces intended for them.

It has been observed in the field that most of the reputed private English medium schools in Shimla are demographically dominated by Brahmin and Rajput families, with only a few Dalit children studying there. In addition, even in cases where a few Dalit children are enrolled, they often change or adopt privileged caste surnames to protect themselves from caste discrimination, which reflects the persistent caste realities in a developmental state like Himachal Pradesh. Untouchability is explicitly practised, and the role of the ‘Devata’^[1] institution in reinforcing caste hierarchies is significant in some parts of Himachal Pradesh, including Shimla (see Jodhka, 2015). Devata institutions hold traditional power and regulate the social life of the people. The respondents, many of whom maintain stronger ties with their villages, fear the Devata, whose presence strongly shapes their everyday interactions with other marginalised communities, especially Dalits. Thus, caste emerges as a powerful identity that shapes the researcher’s relations with the respondents.

Navigating Caste Identity Among the Middle Class: Some Instances from the Field

As an outsider to their social world, and given the ambiguity surrounding my caste identity, participants may have exercised restraint in sharing information, particularly regarding the collection of intimate data. In this context, it is essential to navigate one’s caste identity with sensitivity. If I were to reveal my caste location in the field, coming from one of the shepherding communities of Himachal, it might damage the rapport I have built with respondents from privileged communities.

Once, a respondent agreed to participate in an interview and exchanged contact details with me. The following day, he mentioned that he had looked me up on Truecaller^[2] and noticed that I was not using a surname. This led me to reflect on my caste positionality from the outset, and I can see the curiosity about my caste identity among the respondents. At the same time, they seemed aware of the legal intricacies surrounding caste and therefore avoided asking directly. However, based on the way I questioned them about caste identities and inter-caste relations, some privileged-caste parents attempted to make sense of who I might be. A few of them later shared with me that they had already assumed I belonged to their caste group. It would be sufficient to present one such instance here. This occurred during an interview when a woman from a Rajput family said with conviction, “You are also from the Rajput community?” (translated from Hindi to English). I found myself in a position where I could neither confirm nor deny this assumption. I responded with a slight smile and redirected the conversation to another topic.

 At the same time, I realised the fact that carrying such an image among privileged-caste parents might negatively affect my interactions with respondents from marginalised backgrounds, mainly Dalits, in the field. I also did not want to lose the trust of privileged-caste communities, as that would limit my ability to probe further. For the most part, I avoided revealing my own caste location, since doing so could potentially damage the rapport I had built over the previous few months. ​​As a result, navigating my caste identity proved to be a substantive challenge with methodological implications.