Age features of the development of children's memory. Tenacious children's memory What helps to develop memory

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I was 1.5 years old when the war began, and 5 years old when the Victory came. Children's memory turned out to be tenacious to some events and - especially - to the state in which civilians were when they met the enemy.

My roots are in the Kuban, in the Abinsk region of the Krasnodar Territory. My grandfathers, great-grandfathers, parents lived there. In the same place, in the village of Mingrelskaya, I was also born (as written in the documents). More precisely, the maternity hospital was in the village of Abinskaya (now the city of Abinsk), and my grandmother lived in Mingrelskaya, to whom my mother came from Leningrad before giving birth.

I was born on January 10, 1940 in the Krasnodar Territory, and soon my mother left with me for the city of Krasnogvardeisk (now Gatchina) near Leningrad, where my father Kravets Alexey Grigoryevich served since 1938. Mom, Kravets Efrosinya Mikhailovna, arrived there in 1939, rented a room, got a job as a teacher in kindergarten No. 4 and entered the evening department of the Leningrad Pedagogical Institute. She went to give birth to my mother and now she has returned. I found a nanny - a girl of 14 years old. Mom worked, studied, raised me. Dad served in the Red Army, he was already the commander of the 2nd division of the 94th IPTAP (anti-tank artillery regiment). I grew up as a healthy strong child.

But in May-June, I fell ill with a then intractable disease - dyspepsia (now called dysbacteriosis). She was in the hospital for a long time. And suddenly this terrible war began. I, like other similar children, was discharged as hopeless. What was the mother's despair! Dad, at her insistence, turns to a military doctor, and he decides on a bold and risky method: full direct blood transfusion from donors, if any. Dad turned to colleagues: volunteers are needed. Many responded. The doctor selected four and performed this operation in a military hospital. Everything worked out, my blood was replaced with a donor one, and I started to recover. So death passed me by for the first time.

The Germans were advancing rapidly and within a month they were on the outskirts of Leningrad. A hasty evacuation of state valuables from museums, as well as factories and industrial equipment, began. Residents were not evacuated, because. there were not enough trains. Many people left and left as best they could. Mom, having taken a certificate that she was the wife of an officer, with incredible persistence made her way through the cordoned off platform to the already crowded train, holding me, one and a half year old and weak, in one hand, in the other - a bundle with clothes and crackers. She managed to give me and the bundle to the people through the window of the car, and then - to break through the besieging door and squeeze into the vestibule and the car, to find me. The train was already heading to the Volga, to the east. We were lucky, we did not fall under the bombing, as my mother's younger brother Zhora got and was mortally wounded. My mother and I “ran away” from the hostilities, but not from the war.

Then new difficulties began. Everyone was necessarily taken beyond the Urals, and my mother decided to get to her home, to the village of Mingrelskaya. We left the train before the Volga. Along the river, on passing boats, barges and so on, bypassing control posts in every possible way - only military cargo and soldiers were allowed to go west - we nevertheless reached Stalingrad. Further, also on hitchhikers, we got a month to my grandmother's house. They ate - as they had to, soldiers and other people they met helped. And I was saved by crackers and water - there was nothing else to eat. The pain went away and hasn't returned. This overcoming - the way home - was my mother's victory in the war, her feat. She saved both of us.

We lived in the village of Mingrelskaya with our grandmother Polina Ivanovna, treated ourselves with home remedies, gained strength and did not yet know what lay ahead for us.

We hoped that the war would end soon, we were waiting for a meeting with dad. We did not know anything about him, because. he defended the city of Leningrad, which was under blockade. The mail didn't arrive. Anxiety for him, for my mother's brothers who fought: Sergei, Gabriel, Nikolai, Zhora was constantly with us. But the war did not subside, the Germans approached Stalingrad and captured the North Caucasus.

Since the autumn of 1942, we also fell into the occupation. Life immediately turned upside down: my mother has no job, no money, the necessary products could only be exchanged for other products or things. Adults tried to make supplies from the garden and orchard, carried the harvest to the market in the village. Sometimes my mother got to the market in Krasnodar. There, one day, my mother got into an “action” - intimidation of the population for sabotage by partisans. It was a raid - the people surrounded in the market were driven with dogs to the parked cars - "gas chambers". People already knew that everyone who got into them was suffocated with gas. Then they were taken straight to the pits, where they dumped everyone, people were already dead.

Mom miraculously escaped this fate by falling in this run. German soldiers and dogs ran past. She was often exposed to such mortal risk.

For a whole year we lived in occupation. Probably my earliest memories are from the autumn of 1943, when I was about 4 years old. Two episodes I remember connected with my strong fear. We have always been afraid of the Germans. After all, in our family there were six men with a partisan grandfather who fought in the Red Army. Such families, especially officer families, if the Germans found out, could be arrested, taken away and even killed. Here was the case. Grandmother went to the market, and she locked me and my mother in the hut, hanging a big padlock so that it could be seen that there was no one in the house. Suddenly we hear voices breaking the door. My mother hid in the bedroom with me. They climbed into bed. I was under the covers, and my mother put a wet towel on her forehead: she pretended to be sick. The Germans entered the kitchen and began looking for food in the stove. They pulled out cast iron with boiled corn, cabbage soup. They ate everything and went into the bedroom. We were taken aback, did not expect to see anyone. Mom explained with signs that she was sick, at her own peril and risk. After all, the Germans were very afraid of getting infected and, if they suspected cholera or plague, they burned houses along with people. But God kept us. Mom and I are alive again. The Germans just left.

There was another case. I, having heard the barking of neighbors' dogs, hung on the boards of the gate, curious about who was walking along the street, usually deserted. I look, men are coming: young, cheerful. Approaching. Suddenly, the thought flashes through my mind: “These are the Germans!” Head over heels I fly off the gate and run - into the shelter, under the lilac bush. She froze. Passed by. But fear settled in my head, and for many years later I dreamed at night that the Germans were coming, and I had to run, hide. War is scary!

My toys during the war were multi-colored glass from bottles and jars, some boxes, wooden blocks. I hid all this “wealth” under a lilac bush. There was my "home". I had a rag doll sewn by my mother with a celluloid head and a pre-war bear trimmed with blue fabric. I learned about sweets and white rolls much later, after the war, in 1946.

When in the fall of 1943 our army won in Stalingrad, surrounding the German army of Paulus, the Germans fled. They rolled back from the North Caucasus beyond the Don, fearing encirclement. And the Germans somehow suddenly disappeared from our village. None of the local residents then knew what was happening, everyone sat quietly and waited a day or two. Suddenly, other Germans appeared - in black uniforms. They fussed, looking for something and quickly, finding nothing, left. Much later it became clear that this was a punitive SS unit, and they were looking for prepared lists of people to be shot. But it turned out that they were carried away by the retreating units. These lists were found later by villagers. Apparently, the Germans left them and other documents on the road when they fled. Our family, as it turned out, was also on these lists. So, once again, death passed me and my mother by.

When the war ended, the soldiers began to return to their families. And we were waiting for dad. But when he finally arrived, this is what happened. I see the military uncle has come. Everyone is happy to meet him, treat him. But not me. I observe from a distance, I am surprised, I hide. This uncle says to me: “I am your dad!” I didn't know him, so I didn't believe him. I say: “You are not my dad, I have a different dad” and ran away. Everyone is perplexed. And I took from the chest of drawers the only photograph of my father, a small one, he is there with a beard. I carry it, I show it: “Here is my dad.” Everyone laughed, and I was offended and cried.

Dad brought me a gift, some kind of white object. Gives, and I hide and ask: “What is this?” "Bulka, eat!" So I first saw and tried white bread.

It was 1946, and dad, a soldier, came only to take us to him, to his place of service - in the city of Omsk, in Siberia. We got on the train, and everything was unusual.

At first we were settled in a woodshed, in a fenced-off room. Then we moved to another room - in the basement. We lived in a real dugout. Once there was a heavy downpour, and we were flooded. It was both scary and interesting at the same time. Later we were given a tiny room on the third floor of a 3-storey building in a military camp. I slept on moved chairs, and when sister Lyudmila appeared, she was sleeping in a trough. For the summer, dad took us "to the camps." This military unit went to the exercises.

In the winter of 1947, in Omsk, I went to the first grade of an elementary school in a military town. After the 2nd grade, we moved to the Far East, to a military camp near the city of Iman. There, in 1950, my brother Zhenya appeared. In the town, I graduated from elementary school, and in the 5th grade, in secondary school, I went to the city of Iman. We were taken there every day in a large military vehicle with a canvas top. And a year later - another school again.

In 1952, my father was transferred to serve in the GDR. They didn’t take families, and my mother went with us, 3 children, to her homeland, to Krasnodar. She rented a room in a private house, placed me in a girls' school, in the 6th grade. Soon we had to change the room and the school. After the 7th grade - moving again. In the GDR, servicemen were allowed to bring their families. I studied in the 8th and 9th grades in Stendal. Despite frequent moving, I always studied well. I attended a photo club, a dance club, went in for sports, read a lot ... My parents decided that I should finish the 10th grade in Russia in order to go to college later. Therefore, the last year I studied in Krasnodar. She graduated from high school with a gold medal.

In 1957 she entered the Moscow Power Engineering Institute. She graduated from it in 1963. During her studies, she married a student of the same institute, Ivan Ivanovich Tatarenkov, and in 1962 gave birth to a son, Alexei.

My husband graduated from the institute with honors, and he himself chose the place of distribution - the city of Serpukhov. He worked as the head of the boiler room at the MUZ plant (assembly units and blanks). Later, the plant became known as KSK (Building Structures Combine). Here, to my husband, I came in 1963, after graduating from the institute. In 1964 our daughter Tatyana was born. Now our children live in Moscow with their families.

From 1963 to 1998 I worked at the Metalist plant. She worked for 22 years as a design engineer, then as a team leader, head of a bureau, head of a section.

She was always engaged in social work: trade union group, wall newspaper, participation in tourist meetings. For the last 15 years at the plant, she was the head of the culture section at the party office. I went to seminars on cultural issues in Moscow. Conducted classes with political informants of workshops and departments on all types of culture: art (literature, music, fine arts, cinema), family and child rearing, relations in society, in the workforce. She was a lecturer of the society "Knowledge". She gave lectures on art in workshops and departments, in dispensaries, at propaganda sites, in courtyards. For 10 years she sang in the choir of the Teacher's House under the direction of Inna Evgenievna Pikalova.

After finishing work at the plant at the end of 1998, social work continued in the House of Veterans, in the Mashinostroitel club. From 2000 to 2007, she was a member of the Council of Veterans of the Metallist plant, and since 2007 I have been the chairman of the Druzhba club.

The material was provided by Tamara Alekseevna Tatarenkova.

The material was processed by Olga Anatolyevna Bautina.

Decided! You are going to the theatre! At first glance, everything is quite simple. The choice of children's performances is tempting and varied, and now your smart preschooler is proudly sitting in the front rows of the stalls ... Take your time. A theater for a child is not just another "object" in a series of various cultural entertainments, and buying a ticket for even the most "fashionable" children's performance does not always mark the birth of a new avid theatergoer. The teacher of RAMT A.E. tells about how to make the first meeting with the theater meaningful and memorable. Lisitsina.

What age of a child is favorable for systematic communication with the theater? The "age of the theater" comes when the need for transformation and imitation is manifested, when the child's ability to perceive theatrical conventions has already been trained in the process. Simply put, as soon as your child has started playing "princess" or "princes" and mother's hats, scarves, "heels" are used, you should think about visiting the theater.

In front of you is a theater poster. What to choose for the first trip? Of course, it is better if it is a children's performance of a traditional, academic theater. In Moscow, for example, there are few such theaters, but they still exist. Stop your choice at the Russian Academic Youth Theater (RAMT), which has been staging performances for children for over 80 years. Today's playbill for young preschoolers has two performances - "Dunno Traveler" (N. Nosov) and "Dream with Continuation" (S. Mikhalkov) based on the tale of the Nutcracker.

If you're lucky, you can get to the "Spectator Initiation Celebration", which takes place 3 times a year during the school holidays. As a rule, in the autumn and spring holidays there are two, and in the winter - three or four such holidays. Then a special exhibition exposition is set up for children - "Magicians creating a fairy tale". On it, small guides (children from the audience) talk about the creators of the performance, show the scenery, lighting installations, costumes, make-up, props. And in the auditorium, just before the start of the performance, the leading artists of the theater play the interlude "Initiation into the Spectators". Such holidays leave vivid impressions in children for many years and provide an opportunity to touch the secret of the creation of the play.

If you did not manage to attend the holiday, there is another opportunity to make your visit to the theater unforgettable. The theater has spectator clubs for children and teenagers. The smallest spectators come to the "Family Club". At the end of the performance, the kids, together with their parents, have the opportunity to take a picture (and then receive photos by mail) on the stage with the artists in the scenery, and after a short rest and tea drinking, the theater teacher unobtrusively, in a playful way, will help you and the children to understand your impressions and pay attention to the main thing in the play. Children will be happy to draw the brightest and most memorable images of the performance for the artists. Such a first visit to the theater will not be forgotten!

But, perhaps, you did not manage to get either to the holiday or to the "Family Club". How to get your computerized, TV child interested in theater? What questions to ask to arouse interest and imagination?

The most common parenting question is: "Did you like the performance?". As a rule, children unequivocally answer: "Yes-ah-ah!". And this answer no longer requires discussion. But a topic for conversation can be found after any performance.

The very first question that the director asks himself when starting work is: "What will I stage this performance about? About friendship, love, loneliness, justice?" Ask this question to the child, and immediately there will be a reason for the conversation. I will allow myself to give you a small list of questions that are universal, suitable for any performance, hoping that you yourself will choose the right direction for the conversation.

• What is the name of the performance? What is the name of the main character in the play? What are the names of the main character's friends and does he have enemies? Who would you like to be friends with?
• What act of the main character did you like (did not like)? Who was sorry?
• What would you do in a similar case?
• What was the hero (anti-hero) like at the beginning of the performance and what did he become by the end? Did the clothes of the characters in the play change?(This can be associated with the characters of the characters and their change.)
• Who, besides the actors, is involved in the play?(Look at the program, select, for example, an artist.)
• What colors in the costumes and scenery of the performance do you remember, and why are they like that?
• Did colors affect your mood? And the music? How did they influence?
• Do you think the name of the performance is correct, or could it be called something else? How? Which of your friends would you recommend to watch it?

You can talk about all this on the way home. During this time, the performance will "ripen" in the soul of the child. And at home, all your impressions can be translated into drawings with paints, pencils, crayons. Invite your child to draw the hero he likes and at the same time remember what clothes he was wearing and what color. Or maybe you will try to come up with a poster for this performance together? Or do you want to make a gift to your favorite hero with your own hands? And what? After all, it can be transferred to the theater. And how proud your baby will be!

Many parents have another question: do you need to prepare your child to watch the play, do you need to read or re-read the fairy tale you are going to see? If this is for ballet, then, yes, it is necessary, there is a special "language" here - the language of dance. A dramatic performance, for example, in our theater can be watched without any preparation. In conclusion, I want to remind you that a child is a tireless researcher not only in life, but also in the theater. And if he asks you a thousand "why" and "how" questions, then he wants to study theater theatre.

• 27.04.2015

Galina Alexandrovna Nevolina is a remarkable Russian playwright and theater teacher. She created and since 1982 has been permanently directing the youth theater-studio "Generation", for which she was awarded the title of Honorary Worker of General Education of the Russian Federation. Galina Nevolina is the author of the books Notes or Advice from a Practicing Director, Theater at School, and Playing for Finding, and her plays are successfully staged in many children's theaters in our country. Today Galina Alexandrovna is visiting our literary portal

— Please, tell us about yourself, about your childhood, about your parents. And about how your love for beauty began.
— I was born in 1957 in Ufa. Southern Urals. The city in which my parents ended up by distribution, in which my brother Zhenya was born three years earlier than me. Our other relatives lived far away. This is probably why I learned to make people around me feel like family. In the concept of a friend, I have much more than is generally recognized. And I learned to appreciate my roots for life - the pedigree. I wrote about this in the afterword to the play "The address for letters is the same."
I think we get a lot from our parents. And the older you get, the more you understand it. Perhaps that is why I want to say a few words about them: with age, I realized that they determined a lot in me, although it seemed that there was no special spiritual closeness.
My father fought since 1943, was shell-shocked, fought again, demobilized from Berlin only in 1947, he was 21 years old ...
What is a young man at 21 now? Very often an ambitious dependent creature, stuffed with "info", with headphones in his ears and a tablet in his bag!
All my father's friends gathered at our apartment for "bachelor parties". Oh, if only I had recorded all their stories from beginning to end! But still, I remembered a lot, and these memories formed the basis of my plays about the war. And so, it was the atmosphere of these memories that remained. My father learned to play the trophy accordion, graduated with honors from the Gnesinka and the Faculty of History of the Bashkir University. He taught at the 1st children's music school in accordion class. My brother, a musician, and I also graduated from it. And although I didn’t continue my musical education, it helps me a lot in life, sometimes I insert my songs into performances.
And during the war, my mother studied at the Tashkent Institute, while working at night at a military plant, she took radio operator courses. I keep all documents, including her certificate of paratrooper cadet, reserve officer. She took flight courses, jumped from the wing of an airplane, and with long jumps, although she did not take part in the hostilities, because the war ended. Mom was "distributed" in Ufa. At the age of 28, she became the head of a spinning factory, organized DOSAAF in Bashkiria. She was a woman of strong will, sometimes it was hard for me when I was little - I lacked affection, mother's warmth, which I, as a girl, needed more than my brother. Her determination, will and diligence were transferred to me. She dedicated herself to her work. Mom worked like, probably, no one else. Therefore, dad took us children fishing for a week or two - the only one of all the men in the company who went through the front. It taught me not to whine, not to be capricious. Such a desire in my girlish head simply could not be born!
From the age of 4 I lived with him in a tent, slept in a sleeping bag. Once, when a heavy night rain soaked the tent, dad took me to a pioneer camp, to the children's building. And when he returned, he saw that the tent was crushed by a huge birch tree, which had fallen after a lightning strike.
On these trips, I have learned a lot. I fell in love with nature: for two or three weeks only lakes and forests. And the water is so clear that you can see the pike under your boat. They even tried to catch her with their hands! My brother and I took rubber boats from adults, my brother tied one to the other: at the age of 8 I had little strength to row, and sailed far, far away. I am absolutely a city dweller, but it was then that I learned how to chop wood, make a fire in such a way as to cook fish soup, dry clothes, make tea from herbs, and even at night so that it would not be cold to sleep by the fire. I fell in love with silence: only we and nature. Modern children are not able to live without a mobile phone. Its absence causes panic if there is no connection. (The next children's comedy should be written about this.) And even more so, they forgot how to listen to the forest, the field. Probably, from the ability to notice the nature around, from this feeling, I wrote the fairy tales “Ulya the Snail” and “Dandelion”.
None of my father's friends were surprised when dad took us with him. It was surprising that we NEVER heard a single obscene word. Isn't this a lesson in education! No, once, when we were approaching with my brother through the forest, we heard a man's conversation in a language I did not understand: if only those who fought did not master it perfectly! I immediately began to ask my brother what certain words meant. To which he told me that I was a fool. A couple of times, when I heard something from the boys in the yard, I asked what it meant, but they laughed at me. But I have repeatedly come across the fact that swearing can occupy a certain niche in linguistic communication, like Grigory Gorin:

I am deeply convinced that it is possible and necessary to do without a mat in literature and art!

— Can you call a screwdriver obscenities?
- Not!
What if she got lost?
- Now, if she was lost, and even at the right time, then, of course ....

- And how do you feel about profanity, especially if it is used in the theater or in literature?
— I am deeply convinced that it is possible and necessary to do without obscenities in literature and art! My passion and hobby is black and white films about the war of the 1950s and 60s, very truthful, sincere. They were filmed by front-line directors, and without obscenities. Yes, and the epic film "Liberation", a film in which they tried to get as close to history as possible, was shot without a mat. Therefore, I do not agree that the mat should become the norm when playing certain scenes, supposedly "for real." Realistic! It's just that the level of master artists is such that it does not hold out.
We grew up at a time when most children were left to their own devices. Especially if it was time after kindergarten or school. This is how all the children from my environment grew up: they ran around construction sites, pits or landfills, independently traveled by tram or bus to any part of the city. My brother and I were generally very independent and played a lot on the street: hide-and-seek, Cossack robbers, war (namely, war, not war). They were scouts, they wrote some “documents” on cardboard boxes, carried homemade weapons, “took” snowy mountains. Although the Southern Urals, but the winter was in the winter up to -40, the snowdrifts were huge. I don't remember the slush. And there were no clothes made of bologna jacket fabric, so after many hours of festivities on the street, the clothes were covered with an ice crust, and we were not allowed to go home until we beat off all the ice from it in the entrance. None of the parents followed the preparation of lessons. And self-esteem did not allow to study poorly.
I was left to myself all my childhood, this determined a lot: at first, the inability to organize myself: try in the first grade to force yourself to learn lessons when you don’t understand the meaning of the dial? I studied second shift. I was given three alarms: when to study, when to eat, and when to go to school. Therefore, in the first two classes, I studied quite average: there was no perseverance. But the further the better. Self-awareness grew.
I was sent to the most prestigious school, but this was only because my dad worked in the next building, and my mother across the intersection, so it was easier for them to send me to school. But that is why I often felt out of place. Most of the children who studied there were not from ordinary families, many already had nannies or non-working grandmothers, so these children studied better in primary grades, were neater dressed, although we all wore the same school uniform. I understood that I was lagging behind them, but it took me enough time for me to organize myself and change for the better: I became diligent and accurate, began to study well, despite the fact that I had a “break my head” ...
Then there was no preschool education, few of the children knew how to read before school, including me, except that I wrote in block letters “mother” and “dad”. And after graduating from the first grade, due to her slovenliness, she read slowly. I was teased by the parents of successful students, and I began to experience an inferiority complex, which was exacerbated by the fact that I lagged behind in English as well. The school was elite.
Mom never took me and my brother to the seaside or somewhere else on vacation, but sent me to a summer camp for two shifts, or to my grandmother.
When did you get interested in literature?

Previously, children's literature was a state program

- After the first class, I was sent alone by train to Kazakhstan to my grandmother! Before that, I hardly remember her. They told me not to get out of the car. I don't remember why my brother wasn't with me then. And this is where the first turning point in my life began.
Grandma was strict! And I addressed her to you, like my mother and her sister. Why this was so, I did not think. My grandmother made me read, and there were a lot of children's books. At first I re-read the lightest, most colorful ones, and then I began to read more and more. It was a breakthrough.
Yes! The first books should be colorful. Separated from friends for three months, I began to read a lot. I began to read voraciously! From Chukovsky to Leo Tolstoy's children's stories. Russian fairy tales and epics were read by everyone! As a result, it was forever laid down in the subconscious that Good must always defeat Evil. When life unfolded in such a way that at 30, and at 40, and at 50 blow followed blow, I still did not lose faith, and thus supported others, saying: “Good will always defeat Evil!” And if you heard a bitter smile of despair in response: “Something doesn’t look like it!” And the circumstances, however, were such that it seemed that this was the end. I answered: "Be patient!" Yes, Evil can be stronger, and while it is, but until a certain moment, when its concentration becomes excessive, it will begin to absorb itself!
Fairy tales instilled this faith in the Good in me!
Tell us about your literary debut.
- She wrote her first fairy tale-play based on the folk Bashkir epic. The play "Akyal-batyr". The Ministry of Culture of Bashkortostan held a competition: the play received the State Prize of the Republic of Bashkortostan (II place) and was published. This was my first post. I did put it on. For the first time using computer light on the huge stage in Ufa, representatives of the Council of Ministers came and awarded me with a valuable gift. There was a series of TV shows about it. It was 1997. This is the official start of my career as a playwright. The plays written before that, I did not take into account.
- How acceptable is a sad end in the works of children's literature?
“I don’t know if I should, not necessarily, but maybe!” How else? And Korolenko's "Children of the Underground"?
I remember that my friend and I were crying over the tiny book "Cosette", and dad said that this was part of a big novel, and there the girl's fate was going well. And I wanted to grow up and read the whole novel as soon as possible.
Such works give rise to a feeling of compassion and mercy in children. If today's children read them, then there would be no such cruel children's fights with subsequent uploading of videos on the Internet. The end may be sad, but not hopeless, for example, Ilyusha Malyshev in the 9th grade wrote the poem “9 pages” about Tanya Savicheva, and with such sadness it brings life-affirmation! You know how modern schoolchildren love to read it. It's amazing!
What books did you grow up on?
- I really liked the stories of Lev Kassil, the novel by Ivan Vasilenko "The Life and Adventures of Zamorysh", "The Mysterious Island" by Jules Verne (I read it twice), books about the war. Together with her parents, she stood in long queues to subscribe to the collected works. And we always carried the entire library with us. My husband's family also collected books, one of his grandmother's beautiful libraries burned down during the war in Voronezh. The love of books brings us very close.
I still have a huge bookcase with children's books of those years in my dacha, my sons also grew up on them. These are priceless books of various kinds, but I keep them all, they are valuable in their difference (difference). In my grandmother's closet, among others, there was a "Book for Reading in the Gymnasium" (1908) with amazing illustrations, it is still with me. I was so interested that I did not notice that I read easily with the old “yats” and a hard sign at the end. And its first page is a lesson in mercy - the poem "The Beggar Woman" over which she roared for several days: the point is that the freezing girl dreams of a doll! She, hungry, had no money even for bread. But on Christmas Eve, an Angel flies for the girl and takes her to Heaven, and there the angels give her a doll. It is clear that the end is sad - the girl died of hunger, but how much compassion! And a program is being laid: help your neighbor, don't pass by!
When my first son was growing up, I subscribed to the magazine “Vesyolye” pictures, ”saved the number, where on the cover it was written “XIV” Congress of the CPSU! What could a child in this cover understand at 4 years old? It is unlikely that anyone from this would have added a sense of mercy.
At the age of 14, I took from my brother the magazine "Young Guard" (No. 1.1971), there were blockade diaries. I roared all night, it was forever engraved in my memory, since then I have been looking for blockade diaries, many materials were classified, and then, when the Internet appeared, I began to collect various documents that had previously been closed. Everything came together into a single whole, and she wrote the play "Blockade", only on the basis of documents. We recently met with the guys from Tomsk, who put on a play based on this play, it's very expensive.
We are raising a generation that knows nothing about it. Example: I enter the office, and children (5-7 years old) throw sweets. Then I agreed and instead of the next lesson on the big screen for all pupils of the children's center I showed the film "Winter Morning". Forgetting about their tablets, 250-300 children sat with their mouths open and watched this wonderful black and white film. And that's what needs to be shown. And not what goes on the TNT channel.
When in the 8th grade I saw the amazing film "Romeo and Juliet" by Franco Zefirelli with music by Nino Rota, I fell ill with everything at the same time: Shakespeare, read it in full, knowledge of historical costume, combat technique, learned about a dozen sonnets and "Romeo and Juliet" - completely . I began to read screenplays avidly, starting with Andrey Rublev, to learn how they are written. I decided that I would try to enter the directing department, if I didn’t do it the first time, then I would go to the Faculty of History. But she entered and graduated with one B in scientific communism.

Gerasim drowned a dog and for almost 200 years shocked children have been crying over it, and we are talking about 20 million dead and meeting absent eyes

What can be done to encourage children to read more?
“Before, children's literature was a state program. It seems to me that now this is not the case, therefore, books about witchers, elves, fantasy, often of the lowest level, flooded the shelves of stores. After all, fiction can be of different levels. Our generation read, for example, Bradbury, Lamm.
If they want science fiction, give them “Knights of 40 Islands” by S. Lukyanenko, this book has passed by many modern children. But in vain.
Give them an interesting and understandable book, at least Remarque's "Three Comrades" - modern teenagers practically do not know Remarque.
When I was little, the TV only showed movies 2-3 times a day. But among them was the heading "Screening of literary works", for example, "Taman", "Bela". My brother boasted, in a hurry to retell the end, and I was jealous, giving myself a word that I would grow up and read it myself! And in the second grade, she signed up for the library herself, got 12-15 stops on the tram, and could already take books that were not at home. Where is now such a mandatory program that would promote good literature? There is a program, but like Boris Vasilyev: “We devalue our own heroic history. Gerasim drowned the dog and for almost 200 years shocked children have been crying over it, and we are talking about 20 million dead and meeting absent eyes ", the mention of the Young Guard has disappeared from the school curriculum. Therefore, it turns out as in the poem by E. Yevtushenko:

And looks at the descendants playing the swastika, Karbyshev,
From shame and horror again glaciated.

Ask schoolchildren who General Karbyshev is. Can they answer you? We don't know our history. That is why we clone Western low-grade standards with such ease, and our education was amazing, and literacy is much higher!
It’s like Pushkin: “It’s not only possible, but also necessary, to be proud of the glory of your ancestors, not to respect it is shameful cowardice!”
I work a lot with teenagers (38 years old), write for them, stage performances, I think that I am well versed in their psychology, I had a theater for several years where "difficult" teenagers were engaged. One of the articles about this theater began with the words of one of the guys: “If I hadn’t met Galina Alexandrovna, I would have been in prison for a long time,” then this teenager became a professional director. And relatives and friends like to send their children to “live” with me. Then there are amazing metamorphoses for them: children without scandals begin to wash dishes, make something, cook, study well. Why? Because I speak their language with them, make friends and just do what I'm supposed to do. And they are happy to help me. I wrote all this in the book Notes or Advice from a Practicing Director. There's a chapter on "How to Raise Parents." And it turns out that children read the wrong books, watch the wrong films. I didn’t have hyper-custody in my childhood, and I tell my parents that they shouldn’t do it. All great people were not excellent students, but more often three students. In one summer, my grandmother taught me how to sew, clean, braid, iron, etc. These were not lessons, she just lived in such a way that she wanted to imitate her. And she gave a little hint. This is how I live.
I can’t consider myself an example, it was just so interesting for me: I read adult books in middle age. Including Makarenko "Book for parents". Sometimes you look at a whole generation of young, ill-mannered and illiterate parents, and you want to cry. Where will the children be raised from? Thank God there aren't many.

We don't know our history. That's why we clone Western low-grade standards with such ease.

- And yet, why exactly dramaturgy?
- It just so happened that for me literature is closely connected with the theater, primarily with dramaturgy. That's why I started writing children's plays and scripts because at a certain stage of time there was a failure in children's dramaturgy: in the 1990s it was impossible to find a good children's play. Only for the smallest, for example, "Cat's House", and everything else was about the pioneer link, competitions on the collective farm. Then the play “But still it spins!” A. Khmelika, perhaps, that's all. And I wanted to say a lot. This is how dramatizations began to appear, and then original plays completely based on my plot.
For example, the All-Union festival “Ecology. Creation. Children”, and each time I wrote a new play. I never noticed how they got into the collection. And then I found out that they are staged in other children's theaters in other cities: “The sky without patches”, “We will defeat the evil fire”, “How the animals saved the forest from garbage”, etc. Often there were composers who wrote music to the verses in these plays. Maybe I myself am such a person that I attract people to me, but creatively gifted musicians Timuk Anton and Timuk Pavel, Oleg Shaumarov wrote wonderful music for my performances absolutely free of charge, recording it in a professional studio.
We must try to load ourselves with positivity. How Eldar Ryazanov, left without a garage, made a wonderful film.
At the age of 50, I got behind the wheel for the first time, it was difficult. If in childhood there was not even a bicycle. Sometimes I wanted to swear at those who cut, substitutes on the roads. But I described everything in verse, all the problems, including potholes on the roads. Gouging in the construction of roads, all the laws that supposedly help eliminate traffic jams. I put a lot of love for Moscow into this text, knowledge of its history, all the streets and lanes, and the musical “Moscow Fairy Tale” turned out. Moscow, because there are many specific names and precisely the problems of Moscow, and the “fairy tale” - because by the end all the traffic jams “dissolved”. Sleek Foreign Cars are arguing with Trucks. Bikers break out of the traffic jam, Tramway and Trolleyus sing a touching ballad. An amazing Metro song sounds and during it children-wagons dance. And everything is told on behalf of a little girl and Bicycle. Composer Andrey Drozdov got sick with this text, together with Rinat Nasyrov, also a professional musician, they made crazy music. A show that turns everyone on! The text gave free rein to fantasy, Cork - rap, Foreign cars - blues. Bikers are hard rock. Adults laugh, and children, many come to the performance several times. Probably the most precious one for me. One song about kindness and friendship in the finale is worth something. Sometimes adult graduates - already professional actors - come running to play if the performance is on the stage of a professional theater. Once, on the stage of the Taganka Theater, a festival of professional theaters playing for children was held, ”and only two amateur groups: our generation theater and the theater from Saratov got there. This performance must be shown to the Moscow government without fail. Maybe even humor will help solve problems.
What would I wish parents now for their children to read? There are different methods, for example, our friend the priest has three well-educated children, but the TV in this family is almost never turned on, and the Internet is used as a last resort. Perhaps this is an extreme case. But the kids are reading! And not just the curriculum.
Or, for example, a girl from a very problematic family came to my theater. She was already in the fifth grade, but she could barely read syllables. And I wanted to play. I took on all the roles, and everything worked out, but in order to master the texts, I had to read. And such a breakthrough in six months! Everything began to learn instantly. He eagerly listens on any excursion, reaches for any useful information. It changes before our eyes!
I bring a bunch of prizes to the holiday dedicated to the International Theater Day and arrange a quiz on the history of the theater, just on history and literature, I also allow parents to take part. In the first year there was a complete stupor, no one answered anything, the next year they already wanted to receive prizes, they began to prepare, and now even the little ones, ahead of adults, will answer the question “Which princess was the first to stage Moliere’s play “The Doctor in Captivity”? (Princess Sophia)
Once, at the festival of children's theaters, they watched the performance of the Kirill Korolev Theater "with profanity." An argument arose. Adult leaders argued: “This is reality, why hide from it?” It’s hard for me from such rubbish, and the little one sitting in the front row will think that this is how it should be if half the performance is mate.

As long as the Russian language is preserved, there will be great Russian literature

How much do children need political education?
- My grandmother was a believer, but at that time there was Khrushchev's persecution of the church, she secretly copied prayers from her grandfather, who was a party leader, an honorary pensioner of Allied significance. During the war he was a resident somewhere in the German headquarters, every evening at the same time he listened to the news at the receiver. And then he “chased” me and my grandmother with a test of knowledge of “political information”. I was 7-9 years old! But on the other hand, I received an inoculation to follow all the news, to be aware of what is happening in the country.
The first grandmother's husband died in July 1941, and the second, whom I considered my grandfather, she married at the age of 50. Before his death, he told what he had been hiding all his life, how he was tortured in 1937. I learned another truth.
Grandmother went to visit someone, met with elderly people, they had some conversations, I sat quietly and listened. It was very interesting to listen carefully to the stories of people who had seen a lot in their lives. The memory was tenacious. And I understood: you just need to remember it and keep it in yourself for the time being. I loved listening to old people. Where does it come from in me? Like Yevtushenko: And I love Russia ... her Pushkin. Stenka and her old people!
Here, we leave the guests, and the grandmother says about her friend: - Poor Tanya. After the swamps, his legs were taken away, and now he is sitting in a seat. That's all life. I ask - why? — I was in the camps. — What? And besides the German ones, there were also our camps, they don’t talk about it. And my file has loaded and lies until the time in my head. Somehow we meet a thin person, he gladly greets his grandmother: he almost kisses his hands. And when he left, the grandmother sighs: - He never recovered. Thin! Survived in the gas chamber. - How did you survive? I ask. “Like this… I peed into my clothes and breathed through them.” Then they threw it into a common pit, and crawled out at night. And then ours were imprisoned. - For what? - They thought that he had surrendered. I then fed him, he made a barn for me. In my head, the puzzle does not immediately add up, my grandmother will not tell more, I am small, I will suddenly chat, although not in 1937, but still. And I again file in the piggy bank for the time being. I could listen to old people for hours. I didn’t understand everything, but I remembered everything. Or here's another: - Panfilov was seen off from this station. More precisely, our Volodya. At night. They came as close as they could, and the military train, as their chief barked at us, the one with the mustache. Then only learned that Panfilov. And before that, a Kazakh division was sent, there was no one left of those at all. Therefore, the Panfilovites held out a little longer.
And I have a file in my piggy bank again. And then I inserted everything into the play "The address for letters is the same." In the anniversary year of the Victory, it was widely distributed throughout the country. They began to call, to invite to the premiere. I climbed into the Internet, to see where else it was put, I counted 16 cities. And I was so surprised when I saw the films on youtube, posted in 2014, that the performance was staged in Kharkov and Dnepropetrovsk. So, there were, probably, and there are people who care about this topic. And near Dnepropetrovsk, my own grandfather, my father’s father, died, my grandmother (father’s mother) didn’t even receive a pension, since a notice came “missing”, she raised five children herself, two died of starvation. So this play turned out to be the most demanded and expensive. She paid tribute to her ancestors. Once, my little actress asked: “Please write a play so that I play, and everyone around weeps!” And so it happened that everyone writes that both the actors are crying and the audience. And Gulya, who asked about it, works as a TV presenter. From my girlfriend's grandmother I got another book, the pre-revolutionary "Gospel". I was already in 8th grade. And few people wanted to sit with an old woman chained to the bed with a blue stick, probably, relatives were simply tired. And when I came, I sat with pleasure. I sat and listened to stories about another life, incomprehensible, but interesting. We were already on our way and had to approach communism, we sang pioneer, Komsomol songs. Even now I love to sing them with my friends: there is a bewitching magic in them, especially in the songs of the revolution - bravura, a sense of victory, heroism. And then ... stories that you can’t compose. It just WAS, but we were not told about it. So I got the picture that life is multifaceted. She gave me the Gospel, which I read easily, despite the fact that the style was different. I still don’t know what year the publication was, the paper is almost crumbling. It was the discovery of a new world, or rather, it was already in me, but I did not know the way to it. After that, other new editions were given as gifts, but I only read this one.
Teenagers who come to my theater become different, "head and shoulders above their classmates." We have in our repertoire the play “The Living Memory of Generations”, it has been played by many generations. From performance to performance, I change the text, as it is alive, and reflects what is happening in our country with people, with their souls. Only volunteers play there and the genre of this performance is reflection. And the graduates of the studio learn about the performance through unknown ways and come in order to ask for it and read at least a line there. The younger ones pout but give in. This is a sad performance, but the “battle” to get there is at least knowledge of the history of your Motherland, love for it. This year I inserted there documentary notes or poems of children that are in various museums in Russia. It is not true that young people are not interested in history, or that the topic of victory in the Great Patriotic War is not dear to them.
Parents come to see, and at the same time say that, they say, the child misses school a lot, and then they leave in shock and say: “What a blessing that the child goes here!”
Diaries, old letters are my passion. They have the whole story. A separate story - publications about the descendants of the Volkonskys, about Princess Elena Vadimovna Volkonskaya - the direct granddaughter of Stolypin, whose ancestors were Lomonosov, Lermontov, with whom we were acquainted. About Countess Ferzen, whose grandfather, the Governor-General of Moscow, was shot dead in the building on Tverskaya 13. These materials were published by the Bereginya magazine and Nikita Mikhalkov's magazine Svoi. When you personally know these people, you understand how amazing these people are, what a core they are, but the most stunning thing is their feeling of love for Russia, despite the fact that they lived their lives away from their homeland.

War is won not by generals, but by teachers

What does it mean to be a good playwright or a bad playwright?
— It is difficult to answer. The main thing that carries the work of a particular writer. This is very important to me. "Genius and villainy are two incompatible things." And it doesn't matter how many plays this or that playwright has written. I care about his civic position. For example, in 1983, the play by Yaroslav Stelmakh was published in the Theater magazine.
“Ask Herbs Someday” is a reflection on the fate of the guys from the Young Guard. It took place all over the country, it is unlikely that any youth theater did not stage it. How many wonderful guys grew up on this material.
I have great respect for Elena Isaeva from modern playwrights, she is not only the author who is constantly staged, a wonderful poet, but also a very open person, constantly supervises some projects, for example, she promotes productions of young authors who write on historical topics. A very open, sincere person, ready to help all elderly authors through the Moscow Writers' Union. Amazing person.
— Do you refuse commercial offers?
Yes and no, depending on what you mean by that. For example, I write scripts for game programs on any topic that is asked, often in verse, children's fairy tales, etc., I publish at least forty pieces in the collections "Scripts and Repertoire". This is a small salary, though. But sometimes my former graduates offer to write something for the plot of a children's commercial film, and I really don't like the plot (for example, about a child's suicide, I categorically refused). Or they offered to remake my own play “You Just Live” into a film script, but in such a way that it would be filmed on a budget: not to invest, but then pay for everything - remove the railway station, for example, and replace it with two policemen running through the forests, etc. d. I refuse all this. But congratulations in verse or songs for anniversaries I write all the time. And I never wonder if they will pay me: in any situation I will make friends. And if they thank me with something - well, no, I won’t think about it.
- You have probably noticed how young people today distort their native language. This is especially noticeable on the Internet. What do you say about it?
- I have a bad attitude towards the distortion of the Russian language. It is clear that it is easier to write without quotes, now words such as “vapsche” are constantly “going” instead of “in general”, etc. But now, for the first time, all the vacancies of teachers are filled, which means that it is necessary to test the teachers themselves in the Russian language even more rigorously, schools will not be left without them, let them raise the level. I like that there is such an action as the All-Russian dictation in the Russian language. As long as the Russian language is preserved, there will be great Russian literature. The preservation of the language should be a state program. It should cover everything: for example, less such names as the restaurant "Uryuk", like "Killfish" - is that "dead fish" or "kill the fish"? We need to ridicule it, remove it from life. It started in the form of a game by Mikhail Zadornov. But this is a serious problem. Every day in the offices it sounds: “Xerox me” or even “Xerani me two sheets!” This is a catastrophe! English words creep in constantly, something cannot be changed, but something must be stopped. What does advertising do? "Like me."
Good films should be shown. For example, "Wounded Wounds". And show at a time when the children are at home, and not at 8 in the morning. The broadcast of "Clever and Clever Girls" is not only early on Saturday, when the children are either at school or sleeping off. Youth needs to be taken care of. Every adult should feel their responsibility. There is an expression that the war is won not by generals, but by teachers. And we, those who are connected with literature and art, are doubly responsible.

Interviewed Elena SEREBRYAKOVA

Quest Source: Decision 2450. Unified State Examination 2018. Russian language. I.P. Tsybulko. 36 options.

Task 15. Set up punctuation marks. Write two sentences in which you need to put ONE comma. Write down the numbers of these sentences.

1) The sparkling waves laughed mysteriously and ran ashore and broke loudly against the stones.

2) Keep quiet and hide and conceal your feelings and dreams.

3) The whirlwind raged for about an hour or an hour and a half and then suddenly subsided.

4) Children's memory turned out to be tenacious and the first meeting with the theater remained in her forever.

5) In his work, M. Voloshin tried not only to comprehend the past of Russia, but also to predict its future.

Solution.

In this task, you need to put commas in a complex sentence or with homogeneous sentences.

1. Determine the number of grammatical bases in these sentences: a simple sentence or a complex one.

1) Sparkling waves mysteriously laughing And ran up to the shore and loudly crashed about the stones. Simple.

2) Be quiet hide And thai and feelings and dreams. Simple.

3) Vortex raged about an hour or an hour and a half and then suddenly verse. Simple.

4) Children's memory is tenacious and first meeting with the theater remained in it forever. Complicated.

5) In your work M. Voloshin tried to Not only comprehend Russia's past but also predict her future. Simple.

2. Let's define the placement of commas in a complex sentence. Rule: a comma on the border of parts of a complex sentence is placed if simple sentences do not have a common minor member.

4) Children's memory was tenacious (,) and first meeting with the theater remained in it forever. Complicated, there is no common minor member, a comma is needed. ONE comma.

3. Let's define the placement of commas in simple sentences. Rule: one comma is placed before the second homogeneous member in the absence of unions, before a single opposing union, or before the second part of a complex union (both ... and etc.).

1) The sparkling waves laughed mysteriously and ran ashore and broke loudly against the stones. Homogeneous predicates are connected by a repeating union "and" (laughed, and ran, and broke). TWO commas.

2) Be silent (,) hide and conceal both feelings (,) and your dreams. Homogeneous predicates are connected by the union "and" (be quiet, hide and hide). Homogeneous additions are connected by a repeating union "and" (both feelings and dreams). TWO commas.

3) The whirlwind raged for about an hour or an hour and a half and then suddenly subsided. Homogeneous predicates are connected by the union "and" (the verse also raged). NO commas.