In this edition of PurposePhil Pulse’s female leaders in education and philanthropy series, I had the privilege of speaking with Radhika Bharat Ram, Co-Founder of KARM for Young Indian Women and a tireless advocate for education, gender equity, and value-based leadership in India. Over the last two decades, Radhika has shaped institutions, mentored young women, and bridged generational aspirations across sectors ranging from education to craft to policy advocacy.
In our conversation, we explored the winding path that led her from accounting to pottery to social change. We spoke about building trust, working closely with families, and supporting young women not just as beneficiaries but as future leaders in their own right. Radhika’s story is one of deep listening, quiet strength, and a powerful belief in the ripple effects of voice, confidence, and financial independence.
To start us off, thank you for being here. I’d love to hear a bit more about yourself, what you're doing now, and how you came into this space of education and philanthropy. Were there any pivotal moments along the way you’d like to share?
Thank you so much. I really appreciate the opportunity to talk about my work. My journey into the social sector was not planned, it happened to me, evolving gradually. I actually began my career in accountancy, then pivoted to become a full-time potter for about a decade. That creative process grounded me in patience and discipline. But over time, I found myself being pulled towards education and what we then called “social work.”
The pull was my husband’s family, which has been involved in institution-building for over a century. They founded some of Delhi’s oldest educational and cultural institutions, like the Lady Shri Ram College for Women, Shri Ram College of Commerce, and Bharatiya Kala Kendra. These institutions were never meant to be elite; they were meant to shape an independent India through education, culture, and values.
Later, my mother-in-law started The Shri Ram School. This was more than 35 years ago, when ideas like “child-centric learning” or “values-based education” were barely part of mainstream conversation in India. But she had a strong vision. She believed education was about enabling every child to discover their passion and grow into a well-rounded, empathetic individual. Today, those schools are recognized nationally, but the ethos has always remained simple, rooted in values, not merely in academic performance.
I began working at The Shri Ram Schools, and around the same time, I got involved with organizations like the Blind Relief Association and Delhi Crafts Council. I was learning through doing, observing how community-rooted efforts worked, what sustainability meant, and how real change came from within. Specifically, at the Blind Relief Association, I learned how to communicate with people who couldn't see me, and how to listen with more than just my ears. It changed me. Permanently, and even if I say it myself, for the better.
We didn’t call it “philanthropy” then. It was “social work.” But the heart of it was the same: dignity, trust, and self-reliance. The people we worked with weren’t beneficiaries, they were partners. I didn’t fully realize it at the time, but all these experiences were shaping my understanding of what leadership could look like, and what kind of legacy I wanted to leave.
Then in 2018, I had a moment of pause. I remember telling my husband, “We’re so fortunate, what are we doing with that privilege?” I knew I wanted to work with women and girls, but I wasn’t yet sure how. So, I spent almost two years doing what my mentor advised: I traveled, listened, attended conferences, and spoke to a wide range of people working at the grassroots. And what I saw was this enormous gap, not just in access to education, but in what came after.
How did that lead to the founding of KARM?
In 2020, we officially launched KARM. The name came to me quite naturally. In Sanskrit, it means “good deed,” but it’s also an acronym for the four of us in our family: Kartik, Ahaana, Radhika, and Maahir. The idea of Karm in the Bhagavad Gita also resonated deeply with me, focus on your duty, not on the fruits of your actions.
As I met young women from underserved communities, I realized that many were getting some support up to grade 12, but very few had the means, or the permission, to pursue higher education. Families often said, “She’s going to get married anyway, why invest in her education?”
There was this unspoken expiration date on their dreams.
And it wasn’t just about academics. These girls lacked exposure, mentorship, confidence, basic things that so many of us take for granted. My desire to do this work emanated from the belief that financial independence should not be optional, whether or not one chooses to work, one should have the skills and confidence to stand on one’s own two feet.
At the time, I didn’t have a five-year plan. I just knew I had to start. So, we began with 20 girls, each paired with a mentor. We built workshops, focused on building soft skills, digital literacy, career readiness, and most importantly, a sense of self. The transformation even within that first cohort was astonishing.
Today, we’ve supported nearly 200 girls across five cohorts. Two cohorts have graduated. Almost all of them are either working or pursuing further education. Many now earn more than their parents. For the first time, they’re putting money into their own bank accounts. It’s hard to describe what that kind of shift feels like, but it’s profound.
You’ve spoken about this idea of going deep rather than wide, of building real relationships and transformation. At the same time, I know you’ve started thinking about scale and systems change. How do you think about balancing that depth with the desire to reach more people?
It’s definitely something we wrestle with. When we started, we deliberately began small because we weren’t sure if this would even work. We wanted to be close to the ground and test things. The last thing I wanted was to create something for the sake of visibility.
Both my husband and I come from a background where depth is valued. You can always do a one-off workshop, get some press, check a box, but that doesn’t change lives. Lasting transformation takes time, trust, and patience.
Now that we’ve seen real impact in the Fellowship, we’re thinking about how to amplify it. We run two Fellowship tracks, one for graduates and one for law students, and currently onboard 64 girls per year. We don’t plan to grow beyond that for now because it takes intensive work: mentoring, well-being support, internships, placements, and a real understanding of each girl’s journey.
Where we are expanding is in our peer-to-peer programs. One initiative is called KARM Awaaz, “awaaz” means voice. This was born directly from our Fellows, who said, “We wish we had a space like this earlier.” Now they run community chapters where they lead sessions on topics like aspirations, financial literacy, self-worth, and career pathways. We’re also creating a book and toolkit so other schools and NGOs can run these sessions using a peer-led model.
We’re collaborating with other institutions to bring Awaaz to new geographies. Because when a girl from your own community tells you, “You can dream bigger,” it hits differently. The goal is to build voice, not dependency.
I love that framing, building voice. And now you’re looking toward systemic advocacy as well. What do you see as the biggest barriers to systemic change, especially for young women in India today?
To be honest, the barriers are deep and structural. Patriarchy is embedded in the everyday, what’s expected of you, what’s tolerated, what’s celebrated. I often say, “I may not live to see the change I dream of, but I’ll see it in my girls.”
But change is happening. We recently had a convocation where some of the fathers, who were initially skeptical, came up to me in tears. They couldn’t believe how confident their daughters had become. They told me, “We didn’t know she could speak like this.” That’s powerful.
We’re also seeing that when a girl brings income into the household, her voice becomes stronger. When she contributes financially, decisions start shifting. Families begin to listen differently. We now invite alumni parents to speak at orientation sessions for new Fellows. When they say, “I used to think this wasn’t necessary, but I was wrong,” it lands.
We talk a lot with our girls about financial literacy, how to save, how to invest, how to build a cushion. I tell them, “If you earn ₹25,000, tell your family you earn ₹20,000 and save the rest.” You need to put on your own oxygen mask first.
Of course, we’ve also had to provide support to our girls who confront violence, controlling relationships, and deep-seated fear. Sometimes the barriers aren’t external, they’re internal, from girls who don’t believe they deserve more to their guilt on getting something that their siblings are not. And that’s where our work really begins.
Yes, and what I found so moving in our earlier conversation was how some of the systems change is coming through the families, fathers, brothers, even partners, beginning to shift as a result of the girls’ transformation. It’s not always top-down.
Absolutely. And I want to be clear; I don’t blame men entirely. They’re products of the same system. They haven’t been taught to share power, to value women’s choices. So, we have to create space for them to grow too.
But when they see their daughters’ getting jobs at multinationals, speaking with confidence, contributing to the household, it starts to change how they see what’s possible.
We also see change in younger siblings. Many girls tell us, “My brother now wants to apply to college because he saw me do it.” That’s the ripple effect we seek.
You’ve spoken so passionately about the girls, but I’d love to hear more about your own leadership journey. How would you describe your leadership style, how do you work with your team, your partners, your fellows?
I’d describe my leadership as collaborative and anchored in values. I’m very involved in the vision and the values, we never compromise there. But I also give my team full ownership. I trust them, and I want them to feel that they’re co-creating this journey, not just executing instructions.
I listen. Many on my team are closer to the ground than I am, and I rely on their insights. We don’t operate on hierarchy; we operate on trust.
I also don’t believe in micromanagement. We’re working in education, and everyone brings their own style. I don’t dictate how someone should interact with the girls. I care more about intent, compassion, and integrity.
We laugh a lot. We hug. We cry. It’s a very human organization. And I’m proud of that.
And what role has being a woman played in shaping your leadership journey? How has gender informed the way you show up, as a leader, a mentor, a changemaker?
That’s such an important question. I’ve been fortunate in that I’ve never felt held back because I’m a woman. I have a father who always told me, “Go fight the world,” and a family that let me be who I was and continue to be.
But I’ve also seen how often ambition in women is viewed as a negative. I’ve been called “opinionated” more times than I can count, and always with a certain tone. As if it’s a bad thing.
So, I’ve had to claim space. And I tell my daughter the same thing: don’t let anyone make you feel small for wanting more. Be ambitious. Be driven. And if someone calls you opinionated, say thank you.
Being a woman in this space also means carrying a lot of emotional labor. You feel deeply, you worry, you care. That can be heavy, but it’s also your strength.
That’s beautifully said. As a final thought, what advice would you give to young women leaders in India today? What’s something you wish someone had told you earlier?
Cut the noise. There will always be voices telling you you’re too much or not enough. Don’t listen.
Invest in your financial independence. It changes everything, how you’re seen, how you see yourself.
And remember: your voice matters. Even if it shakes, use it.
You don’t have to change the whole world. But if you can change one person’s life, starting with your own, that’s enough.