By the close of the school year, many people long for a truly personal touch in education. Across the country, voices rise in frustration: some schools feel distant, teachers seem to overlook the unique struggles of individual students. With exams looming and annual grades due, not every family feels they have found their fit. Tears are shed, voices rise, and the chant of costs and demands echoes through hallways and classrooms.
The Federal State Educational Standard, or FSOS, is presented as a framework that promises differentiated learning, clear responsibilities for schools, and a commitment to addressing each student’s distinct traits. In practice, parents react to the standard with mixed emotions: relief that differences can be acknowledged, and worry about how it will be implemented. Even older students begin to weigh in, drawing attention to ways schools might honor individual needs, especially during spring when demands intensify.
Consider a mother who arrives after class and asks that a particular student, Olya, be seated near a small group because she struggles to engage in regular lessons. Or a father who visits the school a day or two later, arguing that modern life and a busy schedule should make flexible testing possible, even suggesting a test via messaging apps. These scenarios reflect a desire to balance tradition with new modes of learning and assessment while navigating the framework set by FSOS.
The core issue remains: there are no laws or standards compelling a school to abandon the traditional mass class structure. No rule forces a teacher to rearrange a timetable or modify a course load to suit one child. And no mandate requires shifting from full-time to remote education simply because a student needs it, without proper documentation. Realistically, such changes are not straightforward or universal in scope.
Critics may label the teacher as unsympathetic or detached, but the reality is that a single instructor cannot offer one-on-one consultation to every student in a 33-person class, given a packed timetable and competing duties. A weekly window for extra help is common, yet its timing and size depend on the teacher’s schedule, and it must be available to all classmates alike. The same challenge applies to students like Vasya, Olya, and their peers.
Many readers can picture a lonely classroom scene: a teacher, a hermit-like figure, dedicating only brief moments to each student as the clock ticks toward the end of a long day. The social pressure grows: some parents argue that teachers are preoccupied with money, or that the school fails to meet daily needs. Others push for more flexible arrangements, claiming that a student’s success should take precedence over rigid routines. And some families even question the fairness of repeated extra time for some children over others, especially when a formal diagnosis is involved.
There are pathways for individual routes and adapted programs. Some families pursue additional assessments through commissions and obtain certificates to support special arrangements. In practice, even when such plans exist, the consultations tend to be informal, and the visible outcomes are sometimes limited. A parent may arrive with a detailed explanation of why their child thrives outside the standard model, only to encounter a cautious response from teachers who must balance the needs of the whole class. The result can feel inconsistent, especially when a student receives different treatment and others do not understand why.
The very idea of adapting assessments and learning paths is framed by the FSOS as a recognition of how students think and learn differently. In simple terms, it means acknowledging that some students work at different speeds and requiring that accelerators or extra tasks be provided so attention remains focused. A shy student might be spared the pressure of presenting publicly, while a more energetic student could receive additional responsibilities to channel energy constructively. Yet the tension remains: many people resist what looks like uneven treatment, fearing unfairness or favoritism.
One clear question emerges: do people want a specialized service or a truly individualized approach? Some may crave what feels like a private, premium experience for their child alone, while others recognize that a public school must serve many with diverse needs under a single system. The goal of FSOS is not to create a separate class for each child but to integrate support within the standard framework, ensuring that differences are acknowledged without sacrificing equity for all students.
In the end, the author presents a personal perspective, a viewpoint that may not mirror every editor’s stance. The fundamental point remains: education policy aims to balance individual needs with the realities of classroom life, and families, teachers, and schools continually negotiate how best to do that within existing structures. The conversation continues as communities seek practical, fair, and effective ways to honor every learner while maintaining a cohesive educational system.