These watered down political rallying cries come in the form of class-starting discussions. Students walk into the room and on the board is a question, for example, Does your vote count? Hopefully they are getting used to these enforced discussions, I’ve been making a point to start off every class with a question specifically designed to answer some burning issue I have about Russian culture. The students are my very own focus group, disguised in the veneer of conversational English class.
Discussions have ranged from the lack of a word or concept for “efficient” in Russian to the fact that not very many Russian kids want to be astronauts when they grown up (a misguided assumption I had). But this week things took a relevant and somewhat desperate turn on my part. I don’t delude myself by thinking I have oh-so-much influence on my students, especially what they choose to do with their time outside of class. I can barely command their attention in class. For my class of journalists, I challenged them to go to the (peaceful) opposition rally this past Sunday. They are, after all, aspiring journalists, and this is the stuff to write about.
Out of a class of twenty students, I saw one of my journalists at the “Russia Without Putin” rally. And she was planning to go before I offered bribes of colorful books from America. I know this, because the previous week my starting-class assignment had been to list two things you are proud about Russia. Out of the maybe forty students I got responses from (most common answers: Pushkin and nature), this student was the only one to list the ongoing political demonstrations, the first of their kind since the early 90s.
Patience, Resignation, and Sympathy.
Well, the word resignation wasn’t in their vocabulary, but the concept was. In their words, “We’re used to taking things like they are.”
So back to my full-court press to get them to vote. Here’s where some foreign guilt comes into play. I had some students genuinely willing to argue one side or the other of the question of their vote counting. But for the most part, my students looked at me with quiet exasperation, shaking their heads inwardly at my inability to come to terms with the how the system works here. And even as I preached civic duty and regaled them with stories of “my first time” voting (a disgusting pro-Putin voting campaign I’ll mention in a bit) in the American presidential elections, I realized what I was doing wasn’t fair.
The ironic “Don’t Vote” youtube video chocked-full of American celebrities got their laughter, but didn’t get to the heart of the issue these young citizens face. The blatant examples and video evidence of voting falsification in December’s parliamentary elections only proved what these students already believed, nothing they say or do or cast their vote for really matters here. Harrison Ford and Justin Timberlake earnestly confiding to you that your one vote does count, because in the 2000 American election the presidential decision came down to 537 votes, does not apply to these students. This is Russia, this is not America. And as much as I want their votes to count, I am possibly doing my students a disservice by encouraging them to care.
On top of this, I am not even sure what ethical lines I am crossing as a teacher, pushing my political hopes and dreams for their country onto my students’ shoulders. But here I am not giving them enough credit. When it comes to their own country, my students have critical minds that detect and dissect (and maybe dismiss) current issues, but like I admitted earlier, I don’t have so much influence over their thought processes. To the best of my ability, I’ve been transparent about my goals as an English teacher and an employee of the United States government. The Fulbright program sends out eager young Americans, as informal ambassadors of “soft diplomacy.” In every aspect of American life, culture, politics, race, religion, education, entertainment I’ve done my very best to give the most balanced perspective on these subjects. But for some reason, when talking about the Russian equivalent of these themes, I can’t seem to keep myself even-keeled.
Maybe part of the reason I can’t keep my thoughts to myself (if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all, Randianne!), is because of particular pro-Putin advertisements that have been playing on TV and the internet. Titled “My First Time—Only For Love,” this series of campaign ads feature young, beautiful Russian women going to the doctors or a fortuneteller to discuss their nervousness about their “first time.” Ostensibly, the fresh-faced female is talking about losing her virginity. The doctor or the gypsy or whoever tells her that it is normal to be nervous, but if it’s for love—then the camera pans to a shot of Putin’s face on a magazine or calendar or fortunetelling card—then she will be safe. The next scene the girl is eagerly striding into a polling booth. The whole concept, and the fact that it’s an acceptable campaign for a presidential candidate, makes me sick.
In contrast, these ads actually makes me appreciate the billboards for the ultra-nationalistic, “clown” Zhirinovsky, that simply state in dramatic red letters on a large black background: Zhirinovsky or it will get worse! But I forgot, we’re not supposed to be talking about the election today.