Revere thy parents.

This is one of the rules that everybody’s supposed to live by, but rarely does. Listening to your parents and actually doing what they tell you can be so hard sometimes…Especially when you’re old enough to see that they are not all-knowing and bulletproof.

 

This makes taking their advice that much harder as you grow up. But the older I get, the more I see that…I miss that. I miss being absolutely sure that if I tell my parents about this or that problem I may be having, it will be solved as if by magic. They might be angry with me at first, but they’ll help. Because they’re all-powerful and all-wise.

 And now…this confidence is gone. I've

seen them make mistakes; I know they don’t always make the right choices. I love them, but I know that my parents are human. This, I think, is the hardest part of becoming an adult. Realizing that there’s no magic solution to every problem in your parents’ heads.

And it’s exactly the time when it hits you: someday, you’ll be someone’s invincible problem-solver. If you’re planning on becoming a parent someday, that is. And it’s kind of terrifying. That goes to show that I, personally, am not ready to become a mother. I am in no way prepared to be a superwoman for a little girl or boy who’s going to look up to me and believe whole-heartedly that I can do anything.

This is a good way to see if you’re ready. So…do. If you’re thinking of giving birth to a child at 20, ask yourself: can I be invincible? If only for the next 18 years. 

Melancholy

So sad…I can’t function properly, can’t even write. I just want to sit here and feel sorry for myself. So much is going on, and I don’t feel like being cheerful. I feel like curling up into a ball and thinking weak, pathetic thoughts, may be crying a little. Most people I know would say that it wasn’t like me to behave like this, but, at the given moment of time, I don’t care.

I’m tired of always being O.K. Always smiling, upbeat, happy even when criticizing something or someone. I can’t do that all the time. No-one can do that all the time, unless they’re robotic or from another planet. But people aren’t used to seeing me when I’m down. And I wouldn’t want to shock anyone, or, even worse, upset anyone.

The reason for all this? I have no idea, what it is. I just want it to stop – because, unlike some writers, I don’t get inspired by depression. It sucks all the creativity out of me, and there’s nothing I can think, talk or write about but my saddness. And that’s just pathetic. So, I’m sorry, everyone. I hope to feel better by next week. But right now…there’s just…melancholy.   

Teaching or Testing?

When we enter any educational institution, what do we see as our goal? I’m not taking kindergarden or even school into account, since we’re not old enough to see further than our noses when we enter them, but, let’s say, college, or a university. While drifting in a sea of vague ideas of getting a degree and, therefore, a better job later on, we often forget the main reason: to learn.

Naturally, the process is complicated – it’s not like you can get a knowledge injection and become clever all of a sudden. It takes time and effort. And great teachers. The problem is, these days, they are more and more difficult to come by. What we mainly see are people who are there to test you - and nothing more.

Those latter ones spend most of their time praising star students who don’t seem to have any problem digesting new information for one simple reason: it’s not new to them. They already knew that. It doesn’t matter, why – they were more interested in the subject earlier on, they have parents who work in this sphere, etc. The point is: they didn’t acquire their knowledge at this particular institution. They got it somewhere else, thanks to someone else’s teaching talent.

Others, who weren’t so lucky, get treated as if they were horribly lazy – it’s constantly pointed o

ut to them that they should work harder to achieve the same results as their higher-achieving colleagues. Would that it were true, but that hard work doesn’t give them anything, because they are working according to YOUR system, while the star students got the same knowledge, using SOMEBODY ELSE’s system, one that might be much more effective than yours.

So, what’s the point of slaving under the system that doesn’t work? And why does it seem like you have to know everything when you enter a university in order to get any praise at all? And, furthermore, what’s the point of entering the said university, if you already KNOW ALL THAT STUFF? Seriously? If we aren’t allowed to make mistakes and NOT know t

hings, then why do we need you?

We don’t. We could just self-educate ourselves at home without being humiliated every time we come to class, and pass our exams at the end of the given period of time. No teachers required. Although, honestly, I wouldn’t call them teachers, because that profession is noble, and I know a few wonderful representatives who carry the title proudly. The ones I’m mad at should be called ‘testers’, because testing other people’s progress is all they do.

And that’s infuriating, because their snobbish attitude and lack of genuine knowledge can actually ruin lives. Because of them, many students give up working on their talents, afraid that they may not be gifted enough to succeed. It’s terrible, and it’s one of the reasons why I will never teach. You HAVE to have a gift for that. You need to feel in in your gut that what you really love to do is HELP PEOPLE LEARN. Not assess the knowledge they already have, but give them something new to know.

If you’re a teacher, but you don’t feel that urge in your every bone…just stop. Don’t ruin lives.

Get A Grip On Yourselves, Kids!

While learning English, I’ve spent a lot of time watching British and American movies and TV series, reading English books and so on, so forth. While enjoying all that, I’ve also been aware of the differences from Russia that I encountered on the way. Differences in culture, people’s mindset, so on, so forth.

What probably struck me most, though, was the difference in the process of upbringing the children. We do not share the tolerance they have for their misbehaviour, we don’t treat our teenagers like gods, mesmerised by any sign of affection they send our way. And I was also fascinated by the notion of imaginary friends.

I thought of it as of an interesting cultural peculiarity, one that has never been even known or experienced by Russian children. At least, to my knowledge. So I was simply amused by the idea. T

hat is, until I heard a licensed pshychologist say that having an imaginary friend is a protective mechanism used by many children to shield their delicate minds from harsh reality: a death in the family or drastic changes in their way of life.

I lost my grandfather at the age of seven. We moved around a lot, so I had to change schools five times. One of those times was abroad, while my English was shaky at best, and the only relative living with me at the time was my grandmother, who threw tantrums every time I didn’t feel like accompanying her to the beach.

And, through all that, guess, what? My pscyche is fine. I never had an imaginary friend. I am very sociable, far from being an under-achiever, and I love my parents. I even love my Grandma. And I tell them that. Am I one of a kind? No. (I don’t believe that “Everybody’s special” stuff, either). I know lots of people whos childhoods sucked, and they’re fine.

In fact, the only people I’ve known or heard of in Russia having imaginary friends or stuff like that are severely challenged mentally or had alcoholic parents who beat them. You know, those who actually needed something to protect them. That I can understand.

So, the next time someone tells me that it’s normal for a child to be talking to thin air, I’ll tell them to pay attention to that kid – he or she is not well. Problems at school, sick aunt – whatever, playing with your dolls is one thing, but making up a nonexistent friend instead of making new ones is either a sign of huge psychological problems or, much more often, just a shout for attention.

Don’t spoil your kids. Someone will have to deal with them when they grow up. But no-one might want to. And who are they going to shout to then?

University, what..?

Don't get me wrong, I love what I do. And what I do is translate, interpret and use English in my everyday life to write, sing and communicate. But the place that's supposed to teach me how to do this properly is doing such a lousy job that I can no longer be quiet. So, here goes.

I'm not going to name names here, but my linguistic university is considered to be one of the best in Russia. That might not mean a lot to you if you live in another country, but look at the map of the world. Find Russia. Wasn't too hard, was it? It's massive! It's got a lot of gifted people who are entitled to great education, just like anyone else. But what do they get instead? Let me tell you.

• We study using books that were issued in the 60-s. I am not kidding. And that's how they teach us Contemporary English.
• We do not have free access to listening or viewing materials, the only way to get to all that is through a teacher, and they are not interested in helping us.
• The teachers are actually not interested in teaching us. Paradox? Not really, would you be interested in doing anything, if your salary was less than $200 a week?
• The dean's office abuses students as well as professors, and treats both groups as if without them, the university would still exist.
• There are no. And I mean, NO internships in England, USA, Australia, or New Zealand. Which means, any of the English-speaking countries. But, of course, the university covers 100% of the cost of China, Saudi Arabia and India internships. Sure, Hindi is more popular than English.
• We don't speak English in class. Again, I'm serious. We do all sorts of things - we translate, we interpret, we retell things we have learned by heart - another useless activity, to my mind - but we do not speak. There are no discussions of the simplest things: what we like to do in our spare time, what we like to eat, where do we like to hang out. I'm one of the lucky ones, since I get to practice outside of the university, but my group-mates don't, and it shows.

It's obvious that the situation is pretty grave. I don't know if there is much of a future for this kind of education. And us, for that matter, since we're going to graduate out of it.