Associate Professor Do Van Dung's silent space for his teacher in Russia

"Some people say I'm "crazy", some say I'm "superstitious", but I just smile. They don't know that to me, my teacher is not just a portrait, but a second father who gave birth to me once more", Associate Professor Do Van Dung said.

EDITOR'S NOTE:

There are teachers who not only teach lessons in textbooks, but also light up in students the belief to move forward, stand up from failures and find their own path. With the series "The teacher who changed my life", VietNamNet brings true stories about devoted, tolerant teachers who silently sow seeds of kindness and make great changes in each person's life.

In the article below, VietNamNet reporter recorded the story of Associate Professor Do Van Dung, former principal of Ho Chi Minh City University of Technical Education.

Meeting the teacher of my life in Russia

Every time November 20th comes, I feel a deep longing for teacher Fesenko - Michail Nikonorovich Fesenko. He left me more than twenty-one years ago, but I still see him sitting there, silently looking at me like when I was a student at Moscow Polytechnic University.

45 years ago, when I first came from my hometown Phu Yen to study in Russia, I met him - one of the most outstanding scientists in the automotive electrical industry. In Vietnam, there were only two people who had studied with him: Dr. Dinh Ngoc An - Hanoi University of Science and Technology and me.

Associate Professor Do Van Dung took a photo with Mr. Michail Nikonorovich Fesenko and his wife more than 40 years ago. Photo: NVCC

In the field of mechatronics, automotive electricity, especially tank electricity, Mr. Fesenko has about 150 patents. He is not only good at theory but also a master of technical innovation. However, because most of his research is in the military field, many of his inventions were not allowed to be published until they were outdated. I was fortunate to study with him in Automotive Mechatronics and was directly supervised by him for my doctoral thesis in the 1990s.

His wife was a doctor serving in the war. They got married during the war years but had no children. So during the years I studied in Russia, he and I were like father and son.

He once told me: “A teacher is only truly successful when his students are more passionate than he is.” That saying has followed me all my life, in every lecture and every step I take on the podium. When we parted ways and returned to Vietnam, I promised to welcome him to visit my homeland. But that promise never came true, partly because of life and partly because communication at that time was too difficult.

Keep a small corner for the teacher for 20 years

Since the day he passed away in 2004, I have kept the small altar in my office. Every morning before starting work, I bow to him. Occasionally, I light incense for him, sending my prayers for his peace in the faraway land.

In 2018, when I returned to Russia, I went to look for my teacher’s grave but could not find it. The only thing I still kept was his image in my heart. He taught me to love my profession so much that he was willing to burn his life to pass on the fire. And perhaps that is why I have never felt like I “worshipped his image”, but rather kept a spiritual father always present.

Today, thinking about my teachers, sometimes I feel really scared. I am afraid that one day the young generation will forget that behind every degree, every project, every step of success are the sweat, tears and silent sacrifices of teachers who burned their own lives to light the way.

I fear that one day, few people will remember their teachers. No one will keep a small corner in their hearts to “worship” the person who has guided them through their growing up years. On November 20th this year, I would like to send my silent prayer to a faraway place. On November 20th this year, I quietly arranged flowers, lit incense, and said softly: “Teacher, I am still trying. I am still passing on the fire that you once passed on to me.”

In the Eastern tradition, the way of being a student is never just about learning words, but learning to be a person. Therefore, respecting a teacher is not a formality, but a deep gratitude. Teachers give us eyes to see the world, wings to fly and a fire to overcome the darkness.

But today, when all values ​​can be measured in money, knowledge can also be valued in points, tuition fees, and diplomas. People forget that teachers do not sell knowledge, they give their whole lives. When students call their teachers disrespectfully or see them as “knowledge sellers,” the sacred bond between teachers and students is severed. The sad thing is that this decline is not the children’s fault, but because adults forget to teach them gratitude.

The relationship between teacher and student is not about scores or diplomas, it is about the teacher burning himself to light up the student's future. But students sometimes grow up and forget that flame.

On November 20th this year, I just hope that young people try to call their teachers just once to say: “I miss you”. Visit your teachers without gifts, just sit and listen to old stories. If possible, please set aside a small corner in your heart to “worship” the person who has guided you. Only when we know how to keep that flame, the morality of “when drinking water, remember its source”, “respecting teachers and valuing education” will never be extinguished.

Source: https://vietnamnet.vn/pho-giao-su-do-van-dung-noi-ve-nguoi-thay-dac-biet-nguoi-cha-thu-hai-2464174.html