Yeltsin полностью

School No. 1, where Yeltsin moved in 1945, was better known by the second name, Pushkin School, appended to it in 1937 in observance of the centenary of the death of the national poet, Alexander Pushkin (1799–1837). Built by the potash combine in 1931–32 as a “model” (obraztsovaya) school for Churtan village, it was donated to the city when Berezniki was established. This was the school for the city’s best and brightest youngsters, and admittance was by examination. Its physical plant, in brick and with indoor plumbing and a gymnasium, outclassed the railway school’s. The teachers exacted more at Pushkin, it had a student orchestra and after-school activities, and it had an evening branch and a boarding unit for village children. Doing well was promoted by staff and at meetings between students and parents, where World War II veterans “spoke about the usefulness of being educated.” ⁵¹ Punning on the name, the Pushkin School boys were spoken of as pushkari—“gunners” or, as we might say, hotshots. Girls from Berezniki’s two ten-year institutions for females, the Gorky and Ostrovsky Schools, “counted it pure happiness to stroll with the gunners along the local Broadway,” the well-lit stretch of Stalin Prospect near the Berëzka café.⁵² Pushkin graduates could qualify for a post-secondary education and entry into white-collar employment. First they needed the diploma, and that was no sure thing. In 1948–49, Yeltsin’s final year, there were 660 boys in first through fourth grades, 214 in fifth through seventh grades, seventy-two in eighth and ninth, and a mere nineteen left in tenth grade. Five of the twenty-six pupils in his ninth-year class were not promoted to tenth grade, and two of the remaining twenty-one did not enroll in September 1948.⁵³

In this bracing environment, Boris Yeltsin thrived. Antonina Khonina, the young literature instructor who was his homeroom teacher in eighth through tenth grades, was a demanding educator who “treated all of us like adults” and would hear of no alibis for uncompleted assignments. She took a shine to Yeltsin, and he was one of her stars.⁵⁴ In ninth grade, he split seven 5s with seven 4s. In tenth, he improved to eight 5s and six 4s: 5s in the three math subjects (algebra, geometry, and trigonometry) and in biology, “The Constitution of the USSR,” geography, astronomy, and German language; 4s in Russian language, literature, Soviet history, world history, physics, and chemistry.⁵⁵

In the railway school, Yeltsin had been gangly and often sick, with nagging throat and ear problems for which his mother wound his neck in a coarse bandage. As an upperclassman at the Pushkin School, he was broadshouldered, hale, and the tallest in class by a head. He was long-waisted, to boot, possessing a torso that accentuated his height when seated. To some of the younger Pushkin boys, he was a ruffian. One who started first grade in 1948 remembers Yeltsin uncivilly barring him from the second-floor lavatory, which was unofficially reserved for the big boys.⁵⁶ Boris had grown interested in sports and especially in volleyball, a game in which Soviet athletes excelled. He was captain of the school squad, which played against students and adults. He and a cluster of friends bought their own volleyball and net and practiced serves and rallies in the schoolyard after hours. On the court, he was forward-leaning (napadayushchii), always scouting for opportunities to attack.⁵⁷ The team were city champions in 1948 and were all presented with wristwatches as prizes. “For postwar boys this was the same as if pupils today were given automobiles.”⁵⁸ Yeltsin in future, perhaps inspired by this generosity, was to make it a practice of giving wristwatches away.

Yeltsin’s influence with the others had only increased since the early grades. Khonina has left an affectionate cameo stressing this point:

Boris Yeltsin [was] a tall, dignified, and studious youth. His gaze was direct, attentive, and intelligent. He was a good athlete. He never violated any of the rules of school life. Boris did not tolerate lies and made his arguments animatedly and persuasively. He read a lot and loved poetry. When he answered [in class], he would furl an eyebrow and look out at you. He spoke with conviction, making his point without empty words. You could sense a brusque character, a torrid temperament. He was sincere and big-hearted toward his comrades.⁵⁹