School and War: An Inside Look
We are living in a time of great war. There's no denying it. War permeates everything, including schools, of course. I'm a teacher in Russia, in a small village, and I see how war has permeated the lives of Russian children. Here are a few sketches from life.
The school year begins with only girls attending classes in the tenth through eleventh grades. The boys attend military training "to consolidate the knowledge and skills acquired in life safety lessons." When they returned, I asked them what they did during the training. The answer was predictable (I served my military service in the Russian Federation during the turning point of the USSR): they dug trenches, underwent drill training, and studied the Military Charter.
An eleventh-grader screams at her phone during recess. The girls jump up to her: "What happened?" "What's wrong?" "What's wrong?" "Vanya sent a photo," she says, showing it to her friends. Their reactions vary: some grimace, others cover their mouths. I ask, "What's in there?" She shows it. And there's a hand, battered by shrapnel. "Who is that?" "That's my boyfriend. He's at the SVO." But the initial fear is gone from her gaze. "At least now he'll go on vacation. He'll get some money..."
All teachers, children, and parents in all Russian schools are being forced into the new messaging app "Sferum." And it's causing a ton of problems. Not everyone can register correctly right away. A boy in the seventh or eighth grade asks me to help him register. I'm considered an expert. I ask for his phone number. He says he needs to register through VK. I ask him to log in. A page opens. It's in Ukrainian... The boy looks embarrassed. I say, "I won't tell anyone. But for your own safety, change the language."
The school's biggest purveyor of war is the deputy head of educational work. He comes into my eighth-grade class. "Can I? I'll just tear this away for a minute... Guys, here are the forms I told you to fill out..." The biggest troublemaker and worst student jumps up: "I'm not joining your pro-Putin bullshit!" Suede is shocked. I pick up the form and see the information for registering with Sferum. "Calm down, Vitya! It's just for registering with Sferum." "Sferum? Oh, right..."
In a social studies class, I ask, "So, what does it take to improve the population's standard of living?" "Change the president every four years," replies a ninth-grader.
In her homework assignment, "Give examples of civil and human rights being respected in Russia," a ninth-grader cited the case of Sasha Skochilenko as an example of how these very rights are not respected...
A tenth-grader asks to skip her next lesson because her dad is leaving for the Northeastern Military District. Her brother and boyfriend are there.
A hero's desk... They have such a thing in Russian schools. A desk where someone who died in the war with Ukraine supposedly sat. "Supposedly" because today's children don't sit at the same desk: they move from classroom to classroom, sitting in different places each lesson, as they choose or as the teacher assigns. And in our school, we also have a "Hero's Desk" in the history room. A slacker and underachiever from the seventh grade sits at this desk. The others shout at him, "Move! You don't deserve to sit here!" I calm him down and explain that it's just a desk.
An eighth-grade lesson. We're discussing democracy as a form of government. A girl says, "It's a shame Navalny was killed. He would have established a democracy." Another girl replies, "Are you stupid? Navalny is a fascist. He's for Ukraine. And the Ukrainians want to kill us all!"
And then I receive this message on Sferum:
"In order to strengthen the preventative component in countering Ukrainian neo-Nazism and the involvement of young people in terrorist activities... I ask you, by... within the framework of the academic subjects "History", "Social Studies", "Fundamentals of Security and Defense of the Homeland", to ensure work to explain to students in grades 10-11 the criminal nature of nationalist organizations in Ukraine, using the events of the Great Patriotic War as an example (the "Lviv Pogrom", the "Volyn Massacre", "Babi Yar", punitive operations in Belarus), as well as criminal liability for committing sabotage and terrorist acts and assisting the Ukrainian special services in committing them.
Send a report on the thematic classes conducted to the Department of Education."
A report in table format. We'll fill it out. In the 10th grade, in the second semester, we'll be talking about World War II. Of course, we'll be talking about nationalism and collaborationism. And besides the "Lviv Pogrom," the "Volyn Massacre," and "Babi Yar," we'll also be talking about the "Forest Brothers" and the "ROA"...
The teacher enters the classroom during recess and says to the eighth-graders, "Guys! Would you like to have your passports presented to you in a formal ceremony? With 'Time of Pioneers' covers and a badge!" The children enthusiastically agree. "Then you need to get your passports from the Federal Migration Service, then give them to me. And we'll present them to you in a formal ceremony at the school, by the banner! The principal will be presenting them!"
A couple of days later, I ask them how the presentation ceremony went. "The cover is rubbish! I already exchanged it for a decent one from Ozon," says the most active and popular girl in the class.
The most obvious loser, his concentration lasting a minute at most, never stopping before or after the bell. It's impossible to teach a lesson with him in the class; everyone's attention is on him, leaving no room for anyone else. It's impossible to ignore him. I ask, "What future do you see for yourself?" He replies, "I won't finish school. I'll go to the SVO and earn some money."
And adults only talk about problems at work or about prices, salaries, etc.
War in school, as in society as a whole, is a constant, visible and invisible presence. Even when people remain silent about it and pretend it doesn't exist. But children are different. And hope never runs dry.
