20 YEARS WITH “USPEKH” — LEONID PODOLSKY

(Subjective Notes of a Teacher)

The longer I live, the more convinced I become that no coincidence is truly accidental. What do I mean by that? I mean that it was certainly no accident that almost twenty years ago I found myself at the “Uspekh” school. But let me tell the story from the beginning.

I did not begin my teaching career here. By the time we moved to Canada, I already had twenty years of experience teaching Russian language and literature to high school students in Ukraine, as well as six years of teaching in schools in the United States — again, mostly senior grades. In Canada, I began with credit courses and spent five years working at St. Pius X High School.

So when I was offered the opportunity to teach fifth-graders at a large private school — and only once a week — I was quite surprised.

“Me? But I… I have…” At that moment, all my teaching awards, titles and professional distinctions flashed through my mind. Fortunately, I had enough sense not to say any of it out loud. And I agreed to work here.

I must say, I did not regret that decision. In fact, I have spent — and continue to spend — some of the best years of my teaching career here.

First of all, schools like this give teachers the opportunity to reach every child personally, to discover their abilities and talents. Secondly, the school and its administration proved to be open to new ideas and unconventional teaching methods.

We firmly believe that every child has talent. The important thing is to notice it in time and help it grow.

When I was still a very young teacher, I was deeply impressed by a wise parable by Felix Krivin:

A prehistoric child was rolling a bent twig along a sandy road. He had just invented the wheel. Teachers from the cave school watched him disapprovingly.

“What does he think he’s doing?! He should play with sticks like all normal children.”

They straightened the twig, punished the boy, and the wheel was forgotten for another thousand years.

I would have this parable engraved in golden letters on the wall of every teacher-training college. We must not — we simply have no right — to overlook children’s talents. If you cannot see them, you have chosen the wrong profession.

I would also advise young teachers to listen carefully to what children say.

One day, after a literature class, ten-year-old Lisa came up to me.

“Look what I wrote.”

It was a poem:

Once more the wondrous autumn comes our way,
A patch of blue breaks through the clouds of grey.
Even the mysterious forest, pale and bright,
Seems like a palace filled with magic light,
Where fragile leaves in colours rich and rare
Seem painted by a festive artist there.

With the author’s permission, I read the poem to my fifth-grade class.

“I write poetry too,” Sasha responded.

“Why don’t we organize an evening and read our poems?” Vika suggested.

“A poetry evening,” I clarified.

“By candlelight,” Kostya added dreamily.

“We’ll bake pies,” Alyona said.

And that is how the tradition of our poetry evenings began.

Here is another story.

It all started with a joke from Lyosha:

“You teachers have it easy — nobody gives you failing grades.”

“Would you like to take our place?”

“That wouldn’t be bad.”

“Then let’s switch places for a day.”

We immediately appointed teachers for the younger grades, elected a principal, sent the “new teachers” for training, and established a “Student Self-Government Day.”

My curious students often asked me about life in the Soviet Union and about the schools where I had worked before. One day I told them about KVN — the famous Club of the Funny and Inventive. My students liked the idea, and soon these humorous competitions became an annual tradition. Parents, by the way, are also happy to participate in these cheerful contests.

New Year celebrations are another story altogether. The students not only help write the scripts but eagerly perform in them — together with their teachers.

I am delighted to mention our wonderful teacher-actresses T. P. Dunevskaya and E. N. Knysheva, as well as the excellent singer E. N. Emelyanenko. Our school principal, Anna Nikolaevna, often takes on one role or another in the performances, while her long-time assistant, Oksana Nikolaevna Frolova, always helps organize the concert hall, select costumes and find suitable musical accompaniment for all our celebrations.

Among the productions we have staged are The Circus Lights Up the Stage, Cinderella, The Girl from the Planet Yalmez, The Three Musketeers, and many others.

Our New Year performances eventually inspired the creation of a school theatre, and now parents and guests can see our sketches and plays not only during the holiday season.

I feel that I have become somewhat carried away with memories of all our interesting activities.

But of course, the main purpose of school is learning.

Here, both my colleagues and I follow the principle: “TEACH CHILDREN ABOUT LIFE.”

This is especially important in the humanities and the arts. Every story, every painting and every musical composition contains a lesson about life. The teacher’s task is simply to discover it and help the students understand it.

That is why we strive to make every lesson engaging and unusual.

This is how our “First Person” lessons became part of our regular teaching practice, with students transforming themselves into literary characters and even wearing costumes from the appropriate historical period.

This is also how our mock trials of literary characters appeared. Our student prosecutors put Khlestakov, Pechorin and Prostakova on trial.

We also stage theatrical sketches based on works we are studying and constantly encourage students to connect literature with their own lives and personal experiences.

There is something almost magical about the attraction of “Uspekh.” Some of the finest people in the city have gathered around the school.

Over the years, friends and regular guests of the school have included Professor A. M. Berlyant of Moscow University, Professor L. G. Shavinina of the University of Quebec, artist E. S. Lurie, S. I. Venetsky, one of the authors of the Soviet Encyclopedia, and B. A. Shkolnik, a remarkable expert in world culture, who also worked with us.

Today, mathematics is taught at the school by E. N. Knysheva, who holds a Candidate of Economic Sciences degree.

And since I have mentioned our current teachers, I would also very much like to name Natalia Vasilyevna, Alyona Grigoryevna and Oksana Anatolyevna. The children adore them.

It seems I have written about almost everything, although it is difficult to fit twenty years of school life — and my own long life — into a single article.

But life goes on.

And “Uspekh” remains with us, just as we always remain with “Uspekh” — with success.

LEONID PODOLSKY

If you would like to enrol your child in the Uspekh School, please call 613-218-8805.

Leonid Podolski