Rostov kindergarten teacher on work frustrations

A new project invites residents of Rostov Oblast from different professions to speak frankly about what frustrates them at work. To avoid consequences from their bosses, many agree to speak only anonymously. First up is a teacher from a municipal kindergarten in Rostov-on-Don.

«I came to work as a kindergarten teacher, you could say, by calling. My education has nothing to do with this field. The idea came after the birth of my second child — I wanted to work with children. I completed training, received the right to work, and quickly found a job. I honestly don’t know if there’s another profession where it’s so easy to find work: you walk into any kindergarten and they immediately offer you a position, asking you to start as soon as possible, because few people want to work for these salaries.

And the salary is the first thing that doesn’t so much irritate as sadden. A base rate of 15,000 ₽ (about $150 at current rates) is like being spat on once a month. Yes, there are performance bonuses, but the accrual system is unclear, nontransparent, and constantly changing. Somewhere it’s reviewed every three months, in some kindergartens — every six months. But even with the premiums, my own pay in the end doesn’t exceed 25,000–27,000 ₽ (about $250–$270 at current rates).

The staffing shortage is infuriating. We’re short of everyone: teachers, nursery aides; teachers of extracurricular subjects leave for private employment. The gaps are, of course, plugged by those working on sheer enthusiasm and love for children. We often have to work double shifts, filling in for the aide, the janitor, and the PE teacher.

I’m terribly annoyed by the endless patriotically themed assignments from management. Instead of letting kids be kids, we’re forever dressing them up as Yunarmiya (Young Army Cadets National Movement) cadets. The uniforms are one-size-fits-all and hang on them like sacks. They’d be better off kicking a ball and playing hide-and-seek, but they get hauled off somewhere to stand and march.

The thematic events calendar is painful to look at. Literally half the holidays are days of remembrance and mourning. Sometimes it feels like all we do in kindergarten is remember, mourn, and cut out paper doves of peace.

Parents who aren’t punctual are also irritating. You keep explaining that a kindergarten is a regimented institution — everything, starting with breakfast, is scheduled to the minute. You ask them not to be late because the kids have activities, but every year there are still those who bring a child whenever it suits them. And these people distract the teacher and the children sitting in the morning circle.

It’s frustrating when parents bring obviously sick children to kindergarten. To any remark you get the reply: “It’s just a ragweed allergy.” Sometimes it feels like ragweed blooms year-round in Rostov. You send a child home from kindergarten with a fever pushing 40 °C (104 °F), and two days later they bring him back with a note saying he’s healthy. I don’t know how that works, but when my children were little and went to kindergarten, they didn’t perform such miracles.

Elections. That really, really drives me up the wall. Every time elections start, I think it’s time to resign. Management always makes us call parents and ask them to register for the primaries, then to vote and send confirmation. Then we have to call parents to remind them about the elections and ask them to be sure to come. You’re not allowed to write to anyone so that, God forbid, no one can copy it and complain. You have to call. I refuse every time, of course — and then for several months the headmistress speaks to me through clenched teeth.

I’m annoyed by the pile of pointless paperwork and logbooks that we keep filling out, but no one ever checks them because no one cares. It’s as if they started keeping them back in the 1950s, and then forgot to say we can stop.

It’s irritating that the work laptop now only starts up every other time, but when you ask to buy a new one, the headmistress says there’s no money.

Unpaid subbotnik community work days scheduled on our days off are irritating.

In general, there’s a lot that infuriates me. If the children annoyed me too, then I’d definitely just quit. Besides wanting to work with children, there’s nothing else to keep you there».