How did you come here? Did you always want to come to America?
Rhonda
No. It’s a long story.
When I was seven, my father managed to get me into School #5, although technically I was supposed to go to School #2. But School #5 was much better, with a focus on math, and my father wanted me to be a mathematician. By the time I hit high school, it was clear that mathematical specialization wasn’t for me.
Student academic competitions are very big in Russia, as big as the high school football is in Texas. The school had a high profile and I consistently placed in top three in municipal student Olympiads in biology, chemistry, geography, history, etc. Curiously, I was disqualified from a literature Olympiad, because they were sure I plagiarized my short story. They didn’t know where from and they couldn’t prove it, but they were sure that a 14 year old couldn’t have written it. I thought my poor teacher would have an aneurysm on the spot. She had watched me write it. I kind of didn’t care about it, because as my father frequently explained to me, “Писанина никогда тебя не покормит,” which translates to “Scribbling will never feed you.” He claims to not remember this.
It got so bad that when a competition was coming, they would just stick me in there without even asking. But when I went to a math Olympiad, I drew a blank. There were about 7 or 8 problems and I solved none. Zero. When the teacher in charge of it was discussing results, he said, “Some of your solved everything and some of you solved none.” And then he looked at me. I was so scarred by the experience, I still remember his face as he said it. 🙂
My mother quickly realized that I was hitting diminishing returns. She would watch me study and study and study, and the best I could manage in math was a B. The school had just implemented a new class specialization with a focus in Biology and I said I wanted to transfer. My mom was all for it. My father pitched a huge fit. Words like “Over my dead body” were said. Curiously, he doesn’t remember this either. Mom eventually wore him down and I transferred. It was so easy, I can’t even explain it. I breezed through my classes.
At that point, somehow the teacher in charge of biology program became connected with Western Carolina University Chemistry department. She was tall, statuesque, long hair, attractive, spoke English well, and so WCU decided to sponsor a group of five students and five teachers to come to US and visit them during their special summer camp for young scientists, or something like that. Sorry, it was long ago, and my English wasn’t good back then. Basically, they marched high school kids into the mountains, showed them dried up pine trees, and talked about acid rain and effects of pollution.
So there came a time to select the students for the trip. The first student was the son of the biology teacher’s friend. He spoke English well and was a spoiled kid. The second, and his name was Herman, and I don’t know why I remember that, was the son of the warehouse supervisor who sponsored the trip. The third was a good looking blond kid who was good at sports. I don’t even remember the fourth one. But basically when they got down to the final spot, they realized that they needed a girl and someone who would actually answer if a scientific question was asked. I fit the bill.
They asked me if I would go. I said yes. I came home and told my mom about it, and she laughed for like 5 minutes. When she was finally able to talk, she said, “Honey, people like us don’t go abroad.”
In two weeks I brought home the visa application and a packet of forms. My parents finally realized it was for real and promptly panicked. My dad ran all over town and flew to Moscow to get me a passport and a visa. Mom frantically tried to scrape together some money to buy валюта, foreign currency because they couldn’t send me there with nothing. Things were sold. Decent clothes that wouldn’t embarrass the family were purchased. I had never had so much attention lavished on me by my parents in my entire life.
Finally I joined the student group and we flew to US. We went to Washington, walked around, almost saw President Bush Senior, who at the last moment decided he was too busy and informed our teachers that he had to spend his time serving Americans rather than meeting Russians. That was a quote. 🙂 Finally we flew to NC. As we were driving around in a van, we ended up stopping at a private school in Georgia, Rabun Gap Nacoochee, where a former student of the WCU’s Chemistry Department head worked as a chemistry teacher.
We toured the lab building and I got really sad. It was so depressing. They had tables. They had Bunsen burners, and sinks, and real laboratory equipment, and chemicals. The only reaction we have done in Russian school was mixing CuSO4 + BaCl2 → BaSO4 + CuCl2
It forms a white precipitate. ::waves a little flag:: Wooo. So Mr. Mallot, who was the chemistry teacher, came up and asked me why I was sad. I tried to explain it to him in my broken English and then I pulled out a notebook I took with me, because I had expected chemical questions, and showed him all the theoretical equations for the reactions and told him I had no idea what any of those compounds looked like.
We left the school, and then a few days later, they sent over a full scholarship packet with my name on it. I won’t bore you with the description of the freak out that followed with my family. I only had a year to go in Russian high school. What if I went to US for a year and then had to come back and I would have to redo a year? What if I got pregnant? What if I got shot, because people randomly shoot each other in America? What if, what if?
Long story short, I ended up coming for a year, then the school gave me another scholarship fro the next year, but by that point they ran out of classes to give me. Through a complicated series of events Duke offered me a very good scholarship, not quite a full ride, but close. But WCU offered me a full ride and adults in my life talked me into going to WCU instead, because it was a smaller school and I wouldn’t fall through the cracks. I started in January of my senior year and met Gordon in the English class. Things took a sharp turn at the end of that semester, but that’s a story for another time.
And that’s how I came to America.
A short story in it self!!! Love it.
I remember when I was in fourth grade the Math Olympics coach wouldnt accept me as part of the team to compete with other schools. Because I’m a girl and surely could not beat his six grader boy pupil. I beat the poor guy twice in Dàmath (like a chess board but with math equations) while he watched.
I still did not get into the team. I hated math for a while after that.
We all leave the places we are belong to there! great story.
What a wonderful history. Thanks for sharing it.
Yay, Western Carolina University! My nephew graduated from WCU in 2018. And I’m so glad they corralled you for our side of The Pond!
Wait! I want to hear about the sharp turn! Cliffhanger in the personal story.
My life took a sharp turn once. His name is David and he’ll be 5 in October ????
That was just my assumption (which, yes, makes me an ass) ????
Wow. Great story. For those of us who love your books, we are very grateful it all worked out the way it did. Maybe a story for another time, but how did you turn to writing?? And, how did your family react to that??
Wow, thank-you so much for sharing that wonderful story. Can’t wait for Part 2
Do you have any siblings?
I read your blog but don’t post comments. I am making an exception for this post. What a wonderful story! I would have eagerly read every detail if it had been even longer. Opportunities in life are important, I tell my boys that and they don’t always listen. You took advantage of the opportunities offered to you and they led you to this wonderful life where people like me read every story you write and feel blessed that you are here writing those wonderful stories.
I also would love to read the story of how you became a full time writer and if you started out writing as a team or evolved to that. But that should be for a day where you aren’t processing edits or head down in writing a book.
Thank you for everything you do for your reading fans!
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Wonderful story! Thank you for sharing!
Wow! That’s amazing. A series of events leading up to a conversation with someone who cared and saw your potential :). Your story is heartwarming, thank you for sharing it 🙂
How fascinating!
Thanks for sharing
I was one of only three women in my college engineering graduation class and one of three women in my engineering masters class. As you all know we had to work twice as hard but we were twice as prepared.
Thank you for your scribbles! Looking forward to all the future ones….
Thanks for telling us that, I really enjoyed reading about your story!
I was one of 2. None of the guys would study with me. One of them said to me “Who would marry a woman engineer?” Someone smarter than him for sure lol!
Not to overlook working your tail off too of course 🙂
<3
That’s an amazing story! I love the picture of young Ilona. Beautiful.
I love this….what a very unique story!! All I can say is that it’s a good thing I didn’t have to rely on my brain power to be in this country. Blessed and happy that my ancestors chose to immigrate to the USA.
Looking forward to learning more about the two of you finding each other & discovering that you would have serious storytelling skills together!!
So glad you shared that bit if your history with us but I need the rest of the story! I’m also glad that you didn’t stay with chemistry but decided to do some scribbling! Lucky us!!
It’s delightful to get a peek at your past and how you wound up here and with Gordon. We are so lucky you looked sad that day, and that there was a teacher smart enough to recognize to your potential! I am so very happy that your scribbling both feeds you, and feeds our imaginations.
Neat! Plus, your picture, total looker!
I just loved reading some of your history. That was so meaningful on multiple levels. Thank you so much for sharing.
Thank you for this story. It put a smile on my face today.
Thank you for sharing that time in your life with us. I enjoyed it immensely!
If you were the science major and Gordon was the lit major I now understand why he is still sore you got better grade!
Bwaahaahaa ????
I feel your pain re being disqualified because you couldn’t possibly have written the short story you submitted in high school. Me, too. And like yours, my teacher tried to defend me.
But no dice. Man, it hurt at the time. But also like you, I found my right place eventually, and it was worth the journey.
I’m so glad! My reading life wouldn’t be nearly as much fun without you and Gordon.
Oi! Cliff hanger ending! Looking forward to hearing more about that semester! Cheers!
Love it! Especially your Dad comments. I am most impressed with your memory of events and people. Sometimes the most significant parts of my own story are hazy. I should have kept a journal!
I’m so glad you are here! ❤️
Can we get a Gordon POV for that story? 😉
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There’s a great book in there,,, 🙂
Make the teacher a shape-changer of some sort, throw in a shuttle to the space station, make Gorden an alien from somewhere unique,,, Voila!
Thank you for the back story. 🙂
Thank you for sharing ????
Thank you so much for sharing! It’s a fascinating story and your mother sounds really nice. <3
Ilona, you are an amazing woman. What you have done with your life is very impressive. The BDH is privileged to know you and the rest of House Andrews through your generosity in sharing the backstory with us. Thank you!
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What an adventure to have in high school. At a recent convention a guest said: “luck is just preparation meeting opportunity.” You are one lucky lady. Glad your path brought you to Gordon and the amazing writing collaboration, all our lives are richer for the joy your stories bring.
Thank you for sharing part of your back story!
Thank you for sharing, So grateful that you ended up writing, appreciate yours and Gordon’s talent!
WOW!!!
Thank you for sharing that story with us!
So interesting! Thanks for sharing your journey. Just love that Dad told you scribbling wouldn’t feed you. I’m sure it felt like that when y’all started, but I’m so glad you two stuck it out.
Fascinating story. Thanks for sharing! I’d like to hear more! If you get bored someday, please share the rest! Thanks!
That’s an amazing story! I love how much of yourself you share with us! I tend to share your funny posts about yarn with my mother (she loves to chrochet).
We (America) are happy to have you! And it’s very apparent your writing talents showed early if they thought you were plagiarizing because it was so good at 14!! Silly people.
This is a great story and I love your dad comments. LOL! Your mom must have been a saint! What a wonderful teacher to recognize your potential from a short interaction. I’m so happy you’re here and sharing your real and made up stories with us! Love the picture!
Lovely! But when did Gordon become a lion?
Love your photo too!
You two are the best!
Thanks, Tim
What a great story! So grateful you shared it. Loved the Pappy quote. And you were quite the looker!
Very cool; we’re glad you made it here.
Thank you I really liked reading this. Itsfunneh all of life’s little turns that take us on our journey.
This is an amazing story! Clearly you were (and are!) brilliant. So glad you ended up here, where I get to read your wonderful stories!
That was a great story. I loved it and would like to read the rest of the story. The picture was also great and you were really pretty. Still are. I loved how your parents just kind of ran around like chickens with their heads cut off but let you go to our great luck.
Thank you for sharing your story Ilona, it was very interesting and I enjoyed reading it. You don’t by any chance have that short story you wrote when you 14 do you?
Thank you for sharing that.
OM. What an amazing story. You had me in tears. We are all blessed to have you here in the USA. Regards
PS been a fan from the beginning..
Oh, yeah. The numbered schools and the fathers who believe that mathematics is the path to personal success.
I went to one of those ‘prestigious’ mathematics-oriented schools too (it was #71), and everyone was ecstatic when I passed the entrance examinations and landed in a class of a ‘renowned’ teacher (recommended by the principal as one of the best they’ve ever had). A year and a half later my parents had to hire a psychologist ‘nanny’, because something was clearly wrong with me, and then a while after that my working mother came to pick me up before the classes ended by chance, and happened to sit on a couch outside the classroom and listen to the teacher yell at us матом for the last fifteen minutes of the class through the door. Because that was what that teacher did every class, but she still was a very good friend of the principal and заслуженный педагог of one of the most prestigious schools in the city. At least my father didn’t care much anymore about what school I went to, so I got to leave ‘numbered public schools’ behind me after the second grade. (I did also still get to do the math and English Olympiad later though.)
Thanks for sharing your story. It’s always great to read about all the strange ways fates fall into place. A wrong turn here, a right word there, and BAM, who would’ve thought we will ever end up where we are, at the time.