Mahmoud, 17, struggles to focus on his studies while fretting about the family he left behind in war-torn Syria Maths is the first class of the day. Only two students, who are clearly aces at maths, are raising their hands to answer the teacher's questions.Almost everyone else is dozing off. But Mahmoud, seated in the first row, appears to be wide awake. He does not, however, raise his hand. It's not that the maths being taught is too difficult. It's just that he is shy. He's also struggling with the German language and the teacher's Bavarian accent.Mahmoud's mere presence here in a German school is an experiment. He does not stick out with his cool horn-rimmed glasses and trendy haircut - the sides cropped short, the top long.story_article_left1And yet, he is different from all the others. Mahmoud, 17, is an unaccompanied minor refugee from the Kurdish region of Syria. He is one of about 70,000 refugees under the age of 18 who fled to Germany without a parent last year. And Germany is supposed to provide him with an education.The education level of incoming refugees is often a topic of hot debate. Officials, like the general population in Germany, are torn between a culture of hospitality and scepticism towards refugees.Some claim they are generally illiterate, only shepherds, people who cannot be taught. Others talk about refugees as if they are all heart surgeons and their offspring extraordinarily intelligent. Neither portrayal is accurate.Integration doesn't work by itself. It never has. You only have to look at how much the third generation of some migrant groups is lagging behind to understand this. There is no easy way "through" the educational system, even for skilled refugees like Mahmoud.Mahmoud was a good student in Syria. His parents believed in the importance of education. His father died when Mahmoud was young but the family were financially stable because they owned a patch of land and received income from renting out the property.German authorities try to take special care of unaccompanied minors. They are not placed in typical refugee homes. Mahmoud stays at a facility run by the Roland Berger Foundation in Ingolstadt, a southern German city also home to the Audi car company.block_quotes_start I was a student. Being a student was my job, not killing people. I could never do that block_quotes_endThe facility has social workers, lecturers and mentors who tailor strategies for each refugee to ensure their wellbeing and to help them prepare for the future.Like most refugees of school age, Mahmoud went to a preparation class when he first arrived in Germany. That was when his main caregiver noticed how gifted Mahmoud was, particularly in maths and physics. "That's when I thought Mahmoud should be at school," says the social worker.Mahmoud says: "[Maths] formulas are the same in every country."So while he tackles equations and sonnets, others in the same house take part in classes that are supposed to prepare them for the working world.The official report on Mahmoud's abilities, which was compiled after his arrival in Germany, reads like a school report: "Mahmoud went to school continuously since the age of six and is able to read and write in his native Arabic tongue. He was familiar with the Latin alphabet when he arrived in Germany. His English is very good and he has very good general knowledge and a quick mind."Mahmoud's room demonstrates the clash of cultures he experiences - a photo of German footballer Mario Götze and a Syrian flag are right above his bed.story_article_right2Mahmoud's home town is in the northeast corner of Syria which meets Turkey and Iraq. It is at the heart of the conflict as it's prized by Kurdish people, rebels and Syrian troops. It's also eyed by Islamic State militants, who got within 20km of the city border."Everyone is fighting everyone else," says Mahmoud. The peaceful city of his childhood suddenly became a different place, where grenades were tossed up to the family's balcony and the military knocked on their front door to force Mahmoud to join the fight. "I was a student. Being a student was my job, not killing people. I could never do that," he says.His mother urged him and his brother to flee. "If you stay here, you'll die," she told them. The brothers travelled for six months. First through Turkey, then by boat to Greece after turning to smugglers for help.Mahmoud does not like to speak of those six months and grows quieter. The official report only says that the police found him near Munich last year. He was registered as an illegally travelling unaccompanied minor so the child services agency had to care for him.But what now? Study? Work? It is not the trauma from his escape that weighs Mahmoud down but constant worry about his mother and sister. And his guilty conscience. The law allowing families to join unaccompanied minors who had arrived in Germany was scrapped when the mood towards refugees turned sour.He knows how lucky he is . Also that his family could be dead tomorrow...