With my wife and I having taught at the Anglo-American School of Moscow for 18 years, we were both truly saddened to hear of its closing. The school, the staff, the students, and Moscow played a huge role in our lives. For most of our time there, it was a fabulous place to teach and to live. The cultural life of Moscow was second to none. The Russian people we met were, for the most part, warm, interesting, funny and loving. We'd not trade those transformative, eye-opening and exciting 18 years for the world.
I wrote the "Anglo-American School Song" in 2000 at the request of the Parent-Teacher Organization there. They wanted a school song to go with the brand new school that had just been completed in Pokrovsky Hills in northern Moscow. A lot of students sang that school song for the opening and closing of each school year. I led the student body and faculty in singing it for 16 years and was always thrilled to hear from kids that enjoyed the tradition that song came to represent. That song, and the fantastic Procession of Flags (representing the 60+ nations attending our school) were staples of the school years' opening and closing sessions.
The tune from the AAS School Song is used at the beginning of this piece. While there were way too many 'golden memories' to mention in one song, I attempted to mention a number of them, in the hopes that listeners who were part of that school will be prompted to remember many more highlights and reflect on the very special institution that the Anglo-American
School of Moscow was. Thanks for listening.
Bruce W Nelson
(Lyrics below)
Anglo-American School of Moscow,
sadly we bid you farewell.
Too many memories to mention,
too many stories to tell.
In many cases, the years we spent there
were the best years of our lives.
Though you may close, you’d be wrong to suppose
in our minds you will not survive.
The sixty-flag processions, the morning coffee breaks,
the Earth Days and the Fun Runs, the room for lifting weights.
Assemblies, the student lounge where kids bounced after school,
the soccer fields, the softball games when spring was fresh and cool.
The smokers in the alley, the workers dressed in green,
the Maslenitsa ceremony few of us had seen.
The timeline in the Hall of Flags that traced our history,
the books and the computers, and art works from IB.
The cafeteria there that served delectable dessert,
the nurse’s office you could go whenever you were hurt.
The big bridge to the sports fields, the daunting sets of stairs,
the kids out on the playground, young skaters pushing chairs.
These memories will echo down each hall
and resonate in hearts of one and all.
Bruce W Nelson, 2023
