Can't Cancel, Must Keep: Russia Decides on the Unified State Exam
In June, our cities are immersed in colors, nights become shorter than a sparrow's beak, and young people wander the streets, celebrating something endlessly. And yet, this is the time for a traditional Russian amusement, our national sport. In June, everyone criticizes the Unified State Exam (USE).
It is not entirely clear how it happened, but such is the etiquette of a modern patriot - first expose the machinations of the West, and then without taking a breath, vilify the Unified State Exam. All in one bottle.
Okay, let's assume that we no longer have the USE. What would the summer of an eleventh grader living in a village or a small town look like?
First, they would take their final exams at their school. It is a stressful situation in itself, but in a small town, it is even scarier. Let's say Mary Ivanova, the physics teacher, treats you well, but Peter Alexeevich, the math teacher, doesn't. Or worse, you have some conflicts with the school principal. Maybe ten years ago, you broke a window in the bathroom, and they haven't forgotten it. And all these things, as an eleventh grader, can be brought up during your final exams.
Alright, in a big city, you can change schools like gloves, although there are still problems there. But in small towns, you can't escape. The fate of a graduate will be decided by teachers from their school who have known them for many years. They can manipulate you by cutting your grade on a simple question, making fun of you, or intimidating you. There is ample room for manipulation.
There is no need to mention that corruption will instantly flourish at this stage, taking on the most intricate and lawless forms. And it's not because people are bad, but because a huge authoritative resource will be concentrated in the hands of specific teachers and school administrators.
Then, armed with this certificate, the young talent will travel to a big city where the university they dream of attending is located. Naturally, their family will accompany them. They will rent apartments or hotel rooms and spend money on round-trip tickets. The admission process lasts about a month - imagine the size of the expenses. An ordinary family will have to save up for such a trip for more than one month.
Then comes the new ordeal - the entrance exams to the university. They won't have much choice. Since we have returned to the Soviet system, we will submit documents to one and only one institution, even if there is a competition of a hundred applicants per spot. The price of not being admitted is a year of life.
Can you imagine how corrupt the entrance exams to universities will become if they become the only chance for a person to receive higher education? And again, it's not about specific teachers; they can be as pure as a baby's tear. It will be the parents themselves who will offer bribes, simply buying higher education. And the more prestigious the university, the scarier the price tag will be. Is this really what the patriots, who vehemently oppose the dreaded USE, want?
In the past week, my colleagues have been writing about eleventh graders who have just scored a hundred points in Russian, math, and physics. The geography of the country is diverse - Taishet, Revda, Samara Region. Now these students will easily get into the most prestigious universities in the country on state scholarships and pursue their beloved fields of study without unnecessary stress and expenses. Everything is fair. And all of this is thanks to the fact that personal factors, which the advocates of the old system are so eager to bring back, are.