"(...)This forest school completely redefines our understanding of “education” !
At this school the children have designed, built, and decorated their own campus — without adult supervision! They cover the entire high-school math curriculum in one year and get official Master's degrees by the time they are seventeen. They cook their own meals, do the administrative work, and write their own textbooks. These students come and go as they please and their parents pay no tuition fees!
Megré describes his first visit to Tekos…
“… A narrow gravel road led from the main highway into the forest, to a valley nestled amidst the mountain peaks. The road soon came to an end in front of a most unusual two-storey mansion. It was still under construction. From one of the still frameless window openings wafted the sounds of children’s voices singing a Russian folk song.
“This building was part of the vision Anastasia had showed me back in the taiga forest, but now it was an altogether real experience.
“Without a word to anyone I made my way through various construction materials to touch this mansion with my own hands.
“As I approached, I saw a little girl, about ten years old, climbing deftly down a ladder. She went over to a pile of river pebbles and began selecting and dropping stones into an old herring tin. When she started back up the ladder, I climbed up after her, in the direction of the alluring music pouring forth from above.
“There on the second floor I watched as a group of kids like her, some a little older, were taking smooth pebbles out of a box and attaching them with a cement mixture to the wall, making an amazingly beautiful pattern. Two little girls at once carefully washed off each newly attached stone with damp rags. They set about their tasks in earnest, singing as they worked. No adults were present.
“Later I found out that the whole foundation, indeed, each brick of this structure, had been laid by a child’s hand. The children had come up with the whole design by themselves, including every corner of their building.
“And this is not the only such building on the little campus. In this amazing setting children are constructing not only their buildings, their campus, but their whole future in the process.
“And they sing! Here a ten-year-old girl is capable of building a house, doing splendid drawings and cooking meals, not to mention knowing ballroom dance steps and mastering the fundamentals of Russian martial arts.3
“The children of this forest school are acquainted with Anastasia. They themselves told me about her. Three hundred pupils from different Russian cities study here.
“At this school children take but a year to master the whole ten-year public-school maths syllabus, along with studying three foreign languages. They neither recruit nor produce child prodigies. They simply give the kids a chance to discover what already lies within.
“Academician Mikhail Petrovich Shchetinin’s school comes under the Russian Federation’s Ministry of Education. It charges no tuition fees. Even though the school does not advertise itself, it has no vacancies. Indeed, there is already a waiting list of 2,500 hopefuls for an unexpected opening.
“It is hard to find words to describe the joy on these children’s beaming faces…
Megré talks to one of the students:
“One gets the impression that each brick of your building here is filled with the bright energy of a great power.”
“Yes, that’s true,” answered an older, red-haired girl. “So much depends on the people who touch them. We have done all this with love, we are trying with our mental attitude to bring only what is good and happy to our future.”
“Who designed this building, the columns and paintings?”
“This was the result of our united, collective thinking.”
“Does that mean that while each one is outwardly working on their own individual task, in actual fact it represents a collective thought?”
“That’s right. Every evening we get together and plan out, or visualise, the day ahead. We come up with the images we want to see expressed in the design of our mansion. Some of the pupils here take on the role of architect — they give specific form to our common work, tie it all together.”
“What image is expressed in the room we’re standing in now?”
“The image of Svarog2 — the primordial element of heavenly fire. You can see him here in the symbols, in the pebble amulets.”
“Does your group recognise one of its own as a principal or superior?”
“We do have a leader, but by and large it is the collective thought that is at work here — lava, we call it.”
“Say that again — thought is lava?”
“That’s right — a state of mind, an image, a desire.”
“Do you all work with such great delight, everybody smiling, everybody with such sparkling eyes — everybody so cheerful?”
“Yes, our life is like that, since we are doing what we want, doing what we can, doing what we love to do.”
“You said each stone has its own pulse and rhythm?”
“Yes, and this pulse beats once a day — just once.”
“Is it like that with all stones, or do some beat twice a day?”
“Every stone’s pulse beats once a day.”
“Doesn’t it seem to you that your mansion is something like a temple?”
“A temple is not a form, but a state of mind. For example, the cupolas — they simply help you access a particular state of mind. The form is moulded by feeling. And it is not by chance that the form of a cupola or hipped roof came to us — they represent our aspirations for heaven and the descent of Heavenly Grace.”
“This building, where every stone is laid with a good thought, is it able to heal?”
“Of course.”
“And does it heal?”
“Yes, it does… (...)
Our collective ancestral memory has knowledge of the laws of the Cosmos, as well as techniques for living in the cosmic space. So it is very important to reject any suggestion that there is something they don't know. If one of those doing the explaining entertains such a thought, his pupils will not know it. The explainer's basic task is to enter into a relationship with his pupils focused on solving problems, then the learning process takes place all by itself. So as not to distract them with attention to the actual learning or memorization. The thought of somebody out there teaching has to be rejected. As they work together, the consciousness of a dividing line between teacher and pupil is obliterated.
It is important to be in an atmosphere of sincerity, with no feelings of being offended or irritated. That's wrong is a phrase we never use. In the Old Russian language there is no stoppage of motion and no bad words. In ancient times people, no matter what their ethnic affiliation, never used a bad word in reference to anything. It simply doesn't exist, so why pay attention to it? What is bad does not exist. If you find yourself at a dead-end, then the words you would use to get out of that dead-end would be phrases like: turn right, turn left, climb up — hinting at which way one should go, but not snapping, 'You're standing in the wrong way. (...)
Each of them held one hand raised in the air, palm out-turned in the direction of the departing vehicle. I knew what they meant — Shchetinin had explained it to me earlier. It signified: "We send you our rays of good, may they follow you wherever you go." And once more I felt fired up with the thought, "What do I need to accomplish to become worthy of your rays? (...)"
Our collective ancestral memory has knowledge of the laws of the Cosmos, as well as techniques for living in the cosmic space. So it is very important to reject any suggestion that there is something they don't know. If one of those doing the explaining entertains such a thought, his pupils will not know it. The explainer's basic task is to enter into a relationship with his pupils focused on solving problems, then the learning process takes place all by itself. So as not to distract them with attention to the actual learning or memorization. The thought of somebody out there teaching has to be rejected. As they work together, the consciousness of a dividing line between teacher and pupil is obliterated.
It is important to be in an atmosphere of sincerity, with no feelings of being offended or irritated. That's wrong is a phrase we never use. In the Old Russian language there is no stoppage of motion and no bad words. In ancient times people, no matter what their ethnic affiliation, never used a bad word in reference to anything. It simply doesn't exist, so why pay attention to it? What is bad does not exist. If you find yourself at a dead-end, then the words you would use to get out of that dead-end would be phrases like: turn right, turn left, climb up — hinting at which way one should go, but not snapping, 'You're standing in the wrong way. (...)
Each of them held one hand raised in the air, palm out-turned in the direction of the departing vehicle. I knew what they meant — Shchetinin had explained it to me earlier. It signified: "We send you our rays of good, may they follow you wherever you go." And once more I felt fired up with the thought, "What do I need to accomplish to become worthy of your rays? (...)"
NOTES:
1. Mikhail Petrovich Shchetinin (1944 — ) Director (principal) of the Tekos School near Gelendzhik. Originally a music teacher by profession, Mikhail Petrovich has had a long and distinguished career in experimental education. The recipient of several awards, in 1991 he was honoured with the title Akademik (Academician) by the Russian Academy of Education.
Retirado do livro Space of Love de Vladimir Megre
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