Today I came out of a lesson and saw one of the 8th forms in a class in the hallway. There was an olive-green blanket spread on the floor, and one of the boys (one of the smaller boys, who looks very young), was spread out on the blanket, pointing a rifle at a mural on the opposite wall. His classmates stood around, watching and laughing, while the instructor said a few words to him. I have seen that particular teacher around, although I have never met him. He is one of the few men at the school, and generally wears a uniform. Today he had on army fatigues.
Needless to say, this was a rather striking image, one you'd never see in America. I asked one of the English teachers what class it was, and she told me "Military Preparedness," although she wasn't sure if that was the correct translation. All able boys in Ukraine go into the army for a couple of years when they turn (I think) 17, although they can postpone their entrance for several years if they go to college. If they manage to avoid military service until they are (I think) 26, they are exempt. This, however, has its downside: you may be considered less of a man if you didn't serve in the military.
(Sidenote: I had an interesting attempted conversation with my host sister a while back, where I tried to explain American military service, including ROTC and the draft. I'm not sure how much she understood--those are rather complicated concepts to get across in remedial Russian.)
But here were these young boys, and girls, in school learning to be soldiers.
I've been meaning to tell you all a little about how schools work here in Ukraine, and this feels like a good time to do that. After all, the differences are on my mind.
In some ways, it's a lot the same. Young children go to kindergarten. When you're six, you start at school, in the 1st form. A form is like a grade. In America we have 12 grades; in Ukraine there are 11 forms. Since they start school around the same age as we do, the ages are about equivalent. In my 4th form class, most of the pupils are 10 years old. (I also turned 10 when I was in the 4th grade.)
The forms are divided into classes, which are groups of pupils that sit in the same room and study the same lessons every day; teachers move from room to room. There's an upper limit to how big a class can be, as there is in America. At my school, I believe the limit is 28 pupils, but I'm not sure. None of my classes are that big. My largest is about 24.
There are 7 periods in a day, which I think is a lot, although I don't remember how many I had in high school. School starts at 8:00 and ends at 2:35 for the older students. The younger forms (4th or 5th form and younger) begin and end later, and have a shorter day. They take fewer classes, although I'm not sure how many.
As I said, teachers move between classrooms; pupils stay in the same room all day. This allows the daily schedule to be changed whenever needed. There are no substitute teachers here. If someone is sick, the schedule is rearranged to move the empty period to the end of the day (so pupils can go home early), or to allow other teachers of the same subject to cover the lesson. For example, I could be asked to teach any English class at any time, if another teacher calls in sick. And I have gone in ready to teach the first lesson, only to learn that the schedule has gone all topsy-turvy, and I don't have a class until the 4th period.
Another striking difference is that in Ukraine (at the present time), a pupil can't flunk a class. That is, pupils are never held back. They are never prevented from enrolling in a class that they are not prepared for--not really surprising since they don't enroll for classes at all. This means that almost every class I teach has pupils with highly varied levels of understanding. One boy (and they are generally the boys) may not know how to say "My name is Sasha," while a girl (and they are generally the girls) can tell me all about her daily schedule and her plans after school.
It makes teaching a little harder. I find that I tend to ignore those students who aren't interested in learning, who have been coasting through the years of English. I never thought I'd do that, but part of me wonders, Why waste my time on them? It's so much more gratifying to work with the students who actually care.
Sometimes I like being a teacher. Today I taught my 6th form class, the ones I thought were impossible when I first came here. (And, truthfully, they're still a bit rowdy.) When I came in the room, and they saw I would be teaching today, they started jumping up and down, practically cheering. How could that not feel good?
On my first day teaching them, the 7th form asked me for my autograph. (That was a little weird, although it happens a lot to Peace Corps Volunteers. I told myself that they just want to see what an English signature looks like--our cursive is so different from Russian cursive. It's not about me, not really.)
But all the same, teaching is not what I want to do forever. Or at least, it's not all I want to do forever; maybe in the future I'll teach as a secondary activity, but not as my primary job. Right now I still plan to take the Foreign Service exam in a year or so. I can take it at the US Embassy in Kyiv.
Do you think I'd make a good diplomat?
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