Life in the boarding school and children's house is not sugar. But it turns out, most of us do not even know how difficult it is. And the question is not even in the obvious tragedy - the absence of parents, but in how they treat children who are in almost the infinite power of educators, teachers. With possession of such power, it is sometimes very difficult to preserve the impeccable moral appearance, which people of this profession should be distinguished.
Today you will hear a lot of things that plot in shock. Some establishments that tell the heroine of the plot are already closed, some are still working. Most of the "acting persons" retired or quit. And this story is not from another time or parallel universe - the events that our interlocutor describes, took place in the period from 2000 to 2014.
Here are just some quotes from this monologue:
From the parents we were taken away when I was very small. As my brother told, who was older than me for a year, Moms and Pope almost never had a house. Most often we were in the apartment alone, I and the younger sister. Brother constantly searched through the window to ask someone food. We slept all hugging everything in order to warm up, in the corner of the room on the stroke of old clothes. Parents could not be a week. Brother recalled that at that time fed us with sister with sour milk and bugs. In this story, of course, there is nothing good. But I am glad that we stayed alive. I know for sure that the doctors were then diagnosed by my sister Rahit. Apparently, one of the neighbors could no longer be silent. We all three were taken to one orphanage. The sister was first in one group with me, and then disconnected us. The first memories of the orphanage - I make me eat. I did not perceive most of the food at all, especially meat, from which it was immediately sick. I remember that when we cried, we were simply allotted into the shower and hung cold water. Like, shut up, which you have a hysteria here, prevent us from working. In the orphanage we had nothing. Books, toys - absolutely everything was common. Even when you got a gift, he was not yours, you already understood it. For example, Americans came to us for the new year and gave children to children in a large beautiful box with toys and snacks. You saw this box and then you can forget about it. Sponsors did not know that it was all taking us.
When we arrived at the orphanage, we and our sister had long hair. Sponsors gave normal gum to braid them, but all these gum took. We used elastic bands from inflatable balls. I remember that at the end of the week this gum was pulled out with hair. I remembered another unpleasant moment. Often, having won your chewing, the teacher offered her children: who wants - take. I probably was the only child to whom it was disgusting. The rest happily fled and took. I remember quite a few good moments in the orphanage. We had a kind nurse with a long oblique, we loved her very much. But apparently, she could not stand this stream of small children who were constantly hanging on her, and decided to leave. The teacher is very hard to work in the system, where you need to have maximum severity if you have a little begging under the child, trying to at least talk to him. It is believed that the child will sit on the neck. The goal of most teachers in the orphanage is to work out the last time. Maybe on children, they take off their grievances on life in which something did not work. I was offered to go through the test, they gave pictures, they had to be decomposed in the right order: an empty place, then a bunny comes, build a snowman and sticks to him carrot as a nose. I laid out otherwise: there was a snowman, a bunny came and destroyed it, and I ate carrot. For me, then it was a completely logical development of events. All the time, while I was in the orphanage, there was no opportunity to communicate with my sister or my brother. I remember the parents came to visit, they smelled alcohol from them. They swore, what will take me, they said that we were very loved. I looked at all this as a betrayal. I remember how I was sitting and waited for my parents, but not because I loved them very much, but because I understood: these are the only close people who I have.
When I was six years old, transferred to the boarding school. We were brought there in parade school clothes, even gave them some knobs and pencils on the road. I was very happy. I thought: I finally I will learn, find out something new! But it turned out that this boarding was for the mentally retarded children. I was sent there after "wrong" the test passed, counted that I mentally retard. The boarding school was preparing the children who lived in it, to ensure that they would continue to worry in collective farms. Therefore, we were taught to dig and so, but read, write and consider it very weak. All children who arrived at the boarding school very shortly strigli. And boys, and girls. For what? We were told: so that there was no lice. If they appeared, nothing terrible - just row again. When I was taken to the Italian family for the summer, my Italian Mom came to horror, seeing such a "hairstyle". She was surprised how it was possible to disobey a person. When I returned from abroad, the educators took everything that was in suitcases, all foreign clothes. I remember, we had a children's contest - "show mod". Divated to me abroad, clothes gave another, more flexible girl. I was dressed in the boarding school - Balahon. It hurts it very much, I tried to demand my things back, the teacher told me: you will go - you will buy a new one. To our things, brought from abroad, the educators had such an approach: you will still break, and my daughter will stand for a long time. One of the educators has always taken away from us presented toys - plush bears and replenished with a collection of her daughter. We lived like this: everything is good - in Italy, here you should obey, obey and survive. Returning back, the children could not adapt for a long time. I spoke on Italian more than in Russian. I will say more: I did not understand Russian, I was not interested in me. I was never called - Italian. And it was also very difficult to get used to food. To count and write, I learned already in another boarding school, in the third grade. I was transferred there, when it still became clear that I need to learn in a regular school.
We very often listened to morals about what our parents bastards, Alkashi, drug addicts and prostitutes, and we are their children, much different. The educators said: "My native children grow in poverty, and you are fed, dressed, travel around the scales." We constantly reminded that the state provides us with everything, and we still do not thank it for it. Such "lectures" could last 40 minutes, an hour ... I understand that a teacher who said such a teacher just offended by a person. She wanted the best for her children and did not see the prospects in us. I often cried, psychorant, protested, disagreering from what was happening. I was closed in a dark room - to calm down. Only Aunt Oksana, who led the circle with us, saw a man in me. She began to take me to her home, and I was surprised to understand that there are good people in the world. When I released from school, felt relief: I realized that I could, in principle, everything, my no one will select what belongs to me, there will be no showing constructions in front of the sponsors who need to smile and say that everything is great. I realized that in front of freedom, now you can independently manage your life and tell the truth. Mom served in prison for evading the payment of alimony, married and gave birth to another child. I stopped communicating with relatives - mom and brother. The sister flew to Italy, her focused. With it, we sometimes support contact. Now I live in Minsk with my little child. I have a stable job, but still I am in finding myself - I think about how to earn more. In the future, I would like to open an educational institution to teach children from boarding schools that can help them in life.
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