Lecturer's thesis examines caste mindset

By Molly Ertel

Manoj Thirupal (Maa-nohj Thih-roo-puhl), born in a slum in Chennai, India, is now a postdoctoral teaching fellow and lecturer at Gonzaga University's School of Leadership Studies. He received his doctor of philosophy degree there in 2025 by developing Caste Mindset Theory.

"This theory examines how caste hierarchy lives in beliefs, reflexes and bodily memory. It regenerates across generations. The law can address the bone, the visible structure, but the marrow, hidden inside it, does not change on its own," said Manoj of his research.

He teaches at both undergraduate and graduate levels.

The youngest of five children, Manoj said his uncle chose his name, a common practice in South India. The uncle, a cricket fanatic, chose Manoj Prabhakar, the name of his favorite cricket player. Manoj also plays cricket as a bowler, like a pitcher in baseball, the same position his uncle's idol played.

Manoj was born into the lowest caste, the Dalit caste, also referred to as "untouchables." His experiences have been the source of his research that asks the question: "How do we find healing from what hierarchy has deposited in us?"

"Dalit means broken, but I have reclaimed it to mean resilient. Now I am expanding the meaning to include healing," Manoj explained.

While the caste system was outlawed in India in 1950, in practice it still remains. A person born a Dalit must show a caste certificate whenever asked. This system has existed for about 3,000 years, said Manoj, pointing out that even now its foundational principles remain ingrained in Indian society.

"My body knows how to react as a low caste person," he said.

He gave the example of policemen forcing their way into his family's home in Chennai. They implied that Manoj and his father had committed a crime saying, "We know who you are." Manoj and his father knew rationally that they had not done anything wrong, but their bodies followed orders.

They climbed into the police van as generations of compliance had taught them. In a rare occurrence of solidarity, neighbors intervened on their behalf, and both were released.

Dalits are not only accused of crimes they did not commit but are also victims of caste-based hate crimes.

"When I was in 10th grade, my sister, Jessy, was assaulted by an unknown perpetrator. She lost two fingers on each hand and was stabbed in the head 22 times. We never thought she would live but she survived it," he said.

This assault against his sister impacted Manoj at a deep level.

"I asked myself for the first time what my life was for," he said.

"Fill my hands so that I have something to share with others." This prayer came to Manoj shortly after Jessy's attack. Instead of being consumed by a desire for revenge, he prayed for wisdom, joy and healing. He understood that the way out of oppression was through education.

"I was not a great student," Manoj laughed, but with his new perspective he turned to books as a form of self-education outside of school. He read about the life of Dr. B. R. Ambedkar, a Dalit and a scholar who studied at Columbia University and the London School of Economics. On Christmas in 1927, he burned the Manusmriti, the ancient text that codified caste hierarchy. He later became the principal architect of India's constitution which came into force in 1950.

Manoj took inspiration from his example that a Dalit person could go as far as he chose, regardless of caste.

He also focused on learning to speak English. Although taught in middle school, it was mostly memorization, not conversation. Manoj already spoke three South Indian languages—Telugu, Tamil and Malayalam—but understood that the way out of poverty was to become fluent in English.

"I started speaking English, not good English. I made a bunch of mistakes." His fearlessness served him well. It took some time but today his English is impeccable.

The first in his family to graduate high school, Manoj attended Loyola College in Chennai on a full scholarship, where he received a bachelor's in finance in 2012 and a master's in social work in 2014.

"I did not choose Gonzaga. Gonzaga came to me," he said.

As a college freshman, Manoj began working at the Janodayam Social Education Centre (JSEC); the name means "people arise." It is a nonprofit that serves Dalits in 132 urban slums. This is where Gonzaga, in the person of Aaron Danowski, came to Manoj.

In 2014, Gonzaga was selected to host the Opus Prize, an annual, faith-based award for organizations aiding disadvantaged populations. Aaron, a Gonzaga freshman at the time, was serving as a juror on the team that traveled to Chennai to appraise JSEC as one of the finalists.

Aaron saw Manoj as a whole person, not a lesser being defined by his caste. They became close friends and corresponded online for 17 months. This was a challenge for Manoj who had to go to an internet café where he could access a computer and the internet.

Aaron was able to fundraise through the Gonzaga community and alumni donors. His family purchased Manoj's airplane ticket. Manoj stepped off the plane at the Spokane Airport on a chilly day in late October 2015 without even a sweater.

It was his first time on an airplane and out of his country. Janine Warrington, Aaron's friend and classmate whom Manoj had also become acquainted with in India, met him at the airport. Aaron's family provided Manoj with a home and a family. Gonzaga became his community.

The friendship between Manoj and Aaron has come full circle at Gonzaga with Manoj, a faculty member in the School of Leadership Studies, and Aaron, a training and development specialist in the Office of Mission Engagement, while also pursuing his doctoral degree.

Family is everything to Manoj. He expresses the greatest love and respect for his mother, Mariammal. As a manual scavenger, cleaning the sewers and latrines of Chennai, she provided for her family with dignity.

She gave birth to five children, of which three survive today. Her oldest son died as a small child and the second, a daughter, died as a young adult from injuries at the hands of her husband. Mariammal, a widow, is raising her daughter's two boys as her own.

Of the remaining siblings, Jessy, who is two years older than Manoj, is married and, having finished her education with Manoj's help, is a social worker. His older brother, Vinoth, works in an exporting business and is a part-time Assembly of God pastor.

"I was raised Catholic by my mother who finds solace in prayer. I find comfort in the Jesuit tradition that cares for the whole person. I never experienced that growing up as a Dalit." The faith journey in Manoj's family from Hinduism to various Christian denominations shows how central faith is to the family.

Here in Spokane, Manoj now has his own family. His American-born wife, Katherine, is the pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Reardan.

"I worship and serve alongside my wife at the Presbyterian Church but remain deeply rooted in Jesuit values," said Manoj.

The couple has twins, Micah Douglas and Naomi Maria, who were born in February of 2025. They are the first in his family born free of caste labeling. Rounding out the Thirupal family is their dog, Samosa.

Manoj's mother, Mariammal, visited the Spokane branch of her family the summer of 2025. Though unable to remain on a permanent basis, she was able to meet her daughter-in-law and grandchildren. It was the first time she'd ever been out of the country or on an airplane, as was true for her son 10 years earlier.

"Fill my hands so that I might share with others has been my prayer since middle school. I think the prayer is starting to be answered now." Manoj is building a life of sharing based on what he has lived and learned. He hopes to earn tenure at Gonzaga when his fellowship ends in the summer of 2027 so that he can live the prayer through the Jesuit mission of love and service, and in so doing, continue to fill his hands.

For information, email thirupal@gonzaga.edu.