"Social science isn't about having the 'right' answer in a notebook," Mrs. Ivanova continued, closing the book. "It’s about understanding the world you live in. If you just 'spishu' (copy), you’re letting someone else do your thinking for you. And in the real world, there is no answer key."

When the room cleared, she pulled out a worn, printed sheet from her desk. It was a printout from Spishu.ru from 2019.

The next morning, the classroom was silent as Mrs. Ivanova collected the assignments. When she reached Maxim’s desk, she paused, her glasses sliding down her nose. "You’ve been busy, Maxim," she noted, her voice unreadable.

For Maxim, a student who preferred sketching street art to memorizing the branches of government, the upcoming midterm was a nightmare. His teacher, Mrs. Ivanova, was known as "The Iron Lady of Social Science." She could spot a plagiarized thought from a mile away and had a particular disdain for "lazy minds."

Instead of reporting him for academic dishonesty, she gave him a choice: an automatic fail for the term, or he could redo the entire chapter—orally—in front of her the following Monday.