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+++~30~+++ )
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my school was as close to hell as i have ever got. i was raised in a very permissive family by kind, if somewhat neglectful, parents, who seem to believe that the best way to raise children is by setting a good example and leaving them grow free like weeds. i had never been punished or explicitly humiliated by the time i went to school, and i had never been in a kindergarten.
this is probably the most glaring, though not the most important, example of my early school life. we were doing some math exercise in the class. i was distracted by something when i noticed my teacher coming down the aisle. i panicked and, hastily, pretended to be writing in my copy book. she noticed my commotion, paused by my desk and, very calmly, said something to the effect of "oh don't worry now" (о, уже не надо). then she took my copy book and tore it to pieces, which she threw to the floor, and then she made me pick up the pieces.
that was my primary school teacher, and she was supposed to teach us for three years. fortunately enough, a girl from, as it seemed, a very common family (or, rather, her parents) complained about cruel treatment and alexandra ivanovna, the hysterical, manipulating and sadistic 50 year old ukranian woman, who was also a wife to a militiaman, got fired after my 2nd grade.
in the third grade, the last year of the primary school, we had a very kind young teacher who would spend most of the time in the class reading fairy tales aloud. i think half of the young teachers, fresh from pedulish'e (normal school), are quite good (for school №6, at least) and stay good until they burn out. at least, my third grade teacher was ok - i don't remember her name, though.
the funniest part was that we hated anisimova (the complaining girl) for what she did. i remember standing on the school porch, september the 1st, someone saying: 'anis'ka complained about alexandra ivanovna. alexandra ivanovna got fired'.
'anis'ka the bitch'.
she came back in the middle of the third grade, to visit. they cried 'alexandra ivanovna, alexandra ivanovna!' and poured into the hall. i remember sauntering, like in a dream, out. she had hurt me so much i thought she had special concern for me. she was standing in the sunlit hall, leaning on a window-sill, girls flocked around her. i crossed the hall and stood by a window-sill next to hers. she turned to me and said, very gently: 'ah, vitya', with a smile. i thought she thought all the time about me as i thought about her, and knew something about me, which i didn't know. i thought she was some goddess, a revenging goddess constantly watching me, but she said just that, casually, turned to her minions and chattered on

my brother and dad, with a sack of potatos

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