Russian certified cruelty

Having just translated a Russian Federation academic certificate and its accompanying transcript, I got a glimpse of how merciless a supposedly bland certificate can be, at least to American eyes.

To explain, I am a graduate of an American university, UC Santa Cruz, affectionately known as Uncle Charley’s Summer Camp, as well as an English institution, Leicester, quaintly pronounced lester.  I even have official graduation diploma to prove it. On these hallowed pieces of paper, my name, degree, subject and year of graduation are listed. What they prove is subject to debate but it is safe to say that I proved that had enough patience and discipline, not necessarily intelligence, to “meet the academic requirements for the degree.”

Of course, the diploma itself does not state how long I took or how well I did or even what at what age and which date I began my studies. As an illustration of the possible variations, during the Vietnam era in the United States, since college enrollment could be delayed by being drafted, one way to avoid serving in the army was to stay in college. Doonesbury’s classic character (whose name escapes me and Google search) gave new definition to the term 10 year plan as he kept on changed major just before completing the last course until he distressingly discovered that there were no majors to switch to. So, most diplomas merely inform the reader of the completion of the requirements.

I am aware that the Latin term cum laude does occasionally appear on Western certificates but I apparently hanged around the wrong group of people. My brother got this supplement while I did not receive it, deservingly so. In any case, I always had the impression that the term was used by owners of dogs named Laude to get them to go home after a walk. As Tom Lehrer would say, but I digress.

By contrast in that merciless motherland that is the Russian Federation (aka Soviet Union and Russia, by generation), students have no secrets. All of the embarrassing facts appear on the certificate leaving the student nowhere to hide. First, the critical eye notices that date and particulars of the previous academic degree. So, if you went back to college some ten years after high school, you have a lot to explain. Then, the certificate viciously informs the reader that the program should take x amount of years and this particular student took y number of years. That could really raise a red flag among employers, not a good thing. The most damaging detail on a Russian academic certificate is three nasty letters before the certificate number: всг and вса. These translate as Russian Diploma of Specialty without Excellence and Russian Diploma of Specialty with Excellence. In other words, at a glance, without even looking at your transcripts, the employer can tell if you enriched the university or the university enriched you.  Try explaining that away.  Alas, students are held strictly accountable. Such cruelty!