Chatting and taking a day off
Let me talk about my current situation first. I have been suffering from a serious disease for a long time, but I still have some confidence.
I went for a physical examination some time ago and found that a lot of unsatisfactory things happened. In other words, it added a little bit of leverage to an already bad situation.
Hmm... The diagnosis of vitiligo only made my appearance unsatisfactory, but it was still a deep blow.
This is not a problem, I don’t care much about my appearance, or I have never cared about it.
It doesn't matter if my face becomes so ugly, as long as my eyes remain gentle.
Then on a whim I called a specialist in the physical and mental health department. Well... the situation worsened a lot.
I won’t mention the specific circumstances, because they don’t seem to bring much meaning. There are thousands of miserable people in the world, and I am just one of them.
One thing I realized very early on is that pity is the most tragic emotion.
When pity becomes the dominant emotion in contact, all other emotions lose their possibility of germinating.
This involves another story, and I don’t mind sharing this story with you.
......
It was more than ten years ago. I can't tell whether it was thirteen or fourteen years ago, but there is one thing I can be sure of.
Those years are probably the ones that have always shone brightly in my life to this day.
A teacher that I can't forget, a girl who gradually transformed from a favorite girl into a muse in my heart... a lover? perhaps.
It is easy to find a Confucian teacher, but it is difficult to find a human teacher.
Although let me tell you what method that teacher used to educate children like me, I'm afraid it's hard for me to explain clearly.
But there is one thing I firmly believe in! That is the beating of that heart that seems to be closely related to us children.
The teacher is a somewhat strict type. Of course, this is contrary to the education method advocated in today's society.
But now I can understand the meaning of severe and corporal punishment.
It is true that when a teacher teaches meticulously, the children's hearts will be touched. As long as they are not hard-hearted, they will be touched.
But the emotions of being touched, moved and grateful are not the best ways to make a person completely change himself.
Especially for a class teacher.
Of course, she does not lack these cares and gentleness, but no matter what, it is impossible for one person to give the same love to more than sixty children.
If we want to change the problems of our children, it is definitely not enough to follow the "advocated" education method.
I can say that my teacher spent most of her life on us children.
Even she gave me something that my parents could not give me, that thing is called dignity!
I am a frequent visitor to the teacher's office. There is my name on the side of the teacher's desk, and there are three and a half "正" characters after the name.
Every time I go to the teacher's office because I made a mistake, a stroke will be added to the end of my name.
Now when I think of it, a smile will appear on my face unconsciously.
At that time, I was often punished and had dozens of chow hands eaten in a row. One hand was swollen like a pig's trotter, but I never complained about the teacher in my heart.
That is a very strange feeling, and of course it is not in line with common sense.
But I am not the only "bad" student who feels this way, my good friends also feel similar to me.
That is, even though I can still recall the pain in my hand, what I also recall is the teacher’s haggard face.
I can no longer recall the true face of the girl I have always longed for, but for my teacher I can still remember her footsteps and her powerful but slightly sharp voice. The voice, and her face.
To be honest, we children will certainly be afraid when facing teachers.
But what she did and showed when she treated us, now I can understand what it is.
That’s respect!
That is not the respect an adult has for a child, but the respect a natural person has for another natural person.
In the eyes of teachers, teachers and students are responsibilities, and there is no gap between teachers and students.
What she teaches us is just because she is a teacher, so she should punish students for their mistakes.
But when the teacher treats us, he treats us the same way one person treats another person.
She called each of her children by our names solemnly and earnestly, without any other changes except the name.
Like the teachers I met later, she would not call her students with professional titles such as "monitor" or "XX committee member".
Just calling her name seriously is the only teacher I have in my short life. And this is just the tip of the iceberg of respect she has for us.
My childhood was somewhat unfortunate, and if I had to use words to express my emotions, I would not be able to express the things I had experienced.
I can only express these things in words, so I was touched during a composition assignment and wrote down all the misfortunes I had experienced and my complaints about the suffering.
So in such a situation, what should an excellent teacher do?
Is it a soft-spoken inquiry that shows you care? Or do you use the clumsy method that has been experienced so many times to enlighten you?
I can tell you for sure that a good teacher should keep these things a secret and keep silent about it!
That is talking, and everything you talk about should not be used as casual conversation material by others.
I am still grateful to her for this, without any special treatment, without that annoying and disturbing look of pity!
All I have is a hundred thousand respects! Just the respect an adult would give a child who is about to mature the way he would treat a natural person!
I am still grateful for that.
When I started writing this book, it was shortly after I resigned from school.
I hope I can be a teacher like her and do my best to give all my students due respect.
It was during that time that I truly understood everything that I had to face as a teacher.
When a teacher stands in front of students, he needs to separate everything about himself from the identity of "teacher".
All the sufferings in life will only exist in me as a person, not in me as a teacher.
The pressure was unimaginable and even made me breathless (of course, it was also due to my asthma).
In the end, I chose to resign because of my health.
This is my second formal job. My last formal job was as a reporter...
Well, the pressure brought by this kind of work that requires conscience is indeed very great. And more importantly, both jobs have a common problem, which is leadership.
When I was a reporter, my direct superiors and senior teachers were all very good people. They were real and straightforward, with beliefs and beliefs as well as their own temperament.
But that's not the case for the top leaders. The smell of bureaucracy and decay is disgusting. (That leader was recently investigated and even made the local news) Laugh.
As a teacher, the principal is a good person, the kind of good person who has responsibility, dreams, beliefs and outstanding abilities.
Energy and leading by example.
But unfortunately, my immediate superior is not like this. He has a strong aura of the world.
Brothers are loyal and good at grabbing credit and shirking the blame... I don't like this way of getting along, even though I kept silent about it most of the time, I finally chose to leave my job due to my health.
The leader between my direct superior and the principal is the bridge between an idealist like the principal and the secular world. Although I don't like him very much, it does not affect my opinion that he is very good.
Both jobs were not smooth. When I chose to write a book, I felt like I had everything in my hands for the first time in a long time.
Until you are wasted... yes "wasted".
I’m not sure what caused my mental deterioration, but I think it probably started with “lack of freedom”?
As a natural person, I don’t even have the right to choose? This is not normal!
All I want is to make a decision on my own, a decision that does not violate morality, and naturally does not violate the law.
But such a simple choice is like a chasm for me.
The accusations and abuses are the same as before.
Tears, complaints, pouring out endless garbage, just like before!
Love, affection, and endless reasons are just like before!
When can I live according to my own wishes?
Only at this time, only when I slowly tell a story, can I "live" according to my wishes.
Even if it is another struggle, even if it is the most decisive struggle in my life, I will not give up the only world I have.
That's all, that's all I have...
The world pieced together by words is everything to me, and the increasingly ugly appearance is just the reason for my rejection.
I will keep writing until it wilts.
I will give the story an ending and give the world I created an ending.
Then reopen another world only for me.
Words will never end, at least those are the countless worlds I have nurtured.
I will be okay, if only for the world in my hands.
The sun is still bright and still warm.
Sincerely
Salute
The author pauses.
(End of this chapter)