Chat and Take a Day Off
Let me talk about my recent situation first. I have been suffering from the disease for quite a long time, but I still have some confidence.
I went for a physical examination a few days ago, and a lot of things happened that were not satisfactory, or it can be said that the situation was not very good.
Well... I was diagnosed with vitiligo, although it only made my appearance not satisfactory, it was also a deep blow.
This is not a problem. I don’t care much about my appearance, or I have never cared about it.
It’s just that my face has become ugly, which is not important, as long as my eyes can still be gentle.
Then I went to see a specialist in the Department of Physical and Mental Health on a whim, and well... the situation has worsened a lot.
I won’t mention the specific situation, because these don’t seem to bring any meaning. There are thousands of miserable people in the world, and I am just one of them.
I realized one thing very early, that pity is the most tragic emotion.
When pity becomes the main emotion in contact, all other emotions will lose the possibility of germination.
This involves another story, and I don’t mind sharing this story with you.
…
It was more than a decade ago. I can no longer tell whether it was thirteen or fourteen years ago, but there is one thing I can be sure of.
That period of time was probably the shining light in my life that has been shining until now.
A teacher I can never forget, a girl who gradually became my muse in my heart from a favorite...lover? Maybe.
It is easy to find a teacher of scriptures, but it is difficult to find a teacher of people.
Although I am afraid that it is difficult to explain clearly what method that teacher used to educate a child like me.
But there is one thing I firmly believe in! That is, the beating of that heart 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 that kind of strictness and corporal punishment.
Indeed, when a teacher teaches meticulously, the child's heart will be touched, as long as he is not heartless, he will definitely be touched.
But the emotions of touch, emotion and gratitude are not the best way to make a person completely change himself.
Especially for a head teacher.
Of course, she did not lack these cares and gentleness, but no matter what, one person could not give the same love to more than 60 children.
And if you want to change the problems of us children, one person's "advocated" education method is definitely not enough.
I can say that my teacher spent most of her energy in her life on us children.
She even gave me something that my parents could not give me, that thing is called dignity!
I am a frequent visitor to that teacher's office. There is my name on the side of the teacher's desk, and there are three and a half "positive" characters after my name.
Every time I went to the teacher's office because of making a mistake, I would add a stroke after my name.
Now when I think of it, I will unconsciously smile on my face.
I was often punished at that time, and I ate dozens of handboards in a row. One hand was swollen like a pig's trotter, but I never complained about the teacher in my heart.
It was a very strange feeling, of course, it was not in line with common sense.
But I was not the only "bad" student who had such a feeling. My friends had similar feelings as me.
That is, even though the pain in my hand can still be remembered, what I recall at the same time is the teacher's haggard face.
I can no longer remember the face of the girl I have always admired in my heart, but I can still remember her footsteps, her powerful but slightly sharp voice, and her face.
To be honest, we children are of course afraid when facing teachers.
But what she showed when treating us, now I can understand what it is.
That is respect!
It is not the respect of an adult to a child, but the respect of a natural person to another natural person.
In the eyes of the teacher, there is responsibility between teachers and students, and there is no difference between high and low.
Her teaching to us is just because she is a teacher, so she should punish the mistakes of students.
But when the teacher treats us, it is expressed in the way one person treats another person.
She calls each child by our name solemnly and seriously, and there is no other change except the name.
She didn't call her students "class monitor" or "XX committee member" like the teachers I met later.
She was the only teacher in my short life who called us by name seriously.
And this was just the tip of the iceberg of her respect for us.
My childhood was somewhat unfortunate, and I couldn't express my feelings in words.
I could only express these things in words, so I was touched when I was writing an essay, and wrote down the misfortunes I had experienced and my complaints about suffering.
So in this case, what should an excellent teacher do?
Is it to ask softly and show your care? Or to enlighten in that clumsy way that has been experienced countless times?
I can tell you for sure that a good teacher should keep these as secrets and keep silent about them!
That is to confide, and everything you confide should not be used as a casual topic of conversation among others.
I am still grateful to her for this. There is no special treatment, no pity eyes that make people bored and uneasy!
There is only 100,000 respect! It is just an adult's respect for a child who is about to mature in the way he treats a natural person!
I am still grateful for this.
When I started writing this book, it was not long after I resigned from the school.
I hope that I can be a teacher like her and give due respect to all my students as much as I can.
It was also during that time that I really understood everything that a teacher needs to face.
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 beyond imagination, and even made me a little breathless (of course, it was also because I had asthma). Smile.
In the end, due to my physical condition, I chose to resign.
This is my second formal job. The last formal job was a reporter...
Well, the pressure brought by this kind of work that requires conscience is indeed very great, and more importantly, there is a common problem in these two jobs, that is, there are leaders.
When I was a reporter, my direct superiors and senior teachers were all very good people. They were real and straightforward, with faith and beliefs and their own temper.
But the top leaders were not like this. The bureaucratic atmosphere and the smell of decay were disgusting. (Recently, that leader was investigated and even made the local news) Smile.
When I was a teacher, the principal was a good person, a good person with responsibility, dreams, beliefs and outstanding abilities.
Energetic and leading by example.
But unfortunately, my direct superior was not like this. He had a strong underworld atmosphere.
Brotherhood, taking credit and blaming others... I don't like this way of getting along, even though I kept silent most of the time, and finally chose to resign due to my physical condition.
The leader between my direct superior and the principal is a bridge between idealists like the principal and the secular world. Although I don't like him very much, this does not affect my belief that he is very good.
Neither of the two jobs was smooth. When I chose to write a book, I felt that everything I had was in my hands for the first time in a long time.
Until I was worn out... yes, "worn out".
I don't know what caused my mental state to deteriorate, but I think it probably started with "unfreedom"?
As a natural person, I don't even have the power to choose for myself? This is very abnormal!
All I want is to make a decision by myself, a decision that does not violate morality and naturally does not violate the law.
But such a simple choice is like a natural chasm for me.
Accusations, abuse, just like before.
Tears, complaints, endless garbage, just like before!
Love, feelings, endless reasons, just like before!
When can I live according to my own wishes?
Only now, 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 determined struggle in my life, I will not give up my only world.
Only this, I only this...
The world made up of words is everything to me, and the gradually ugly appearance is just the reason for my refusal.
I will continue to write until I really wither.
I will give the story an ending and give the world I created an end.
Then restart another world that is only mine.
Words will never end, at least they are countless worlds that I have nurtured.
I will get better, even if it is only for the world in my hands.
The sun is still dazzling and warm.
Sincerely
Salute
The author bows his head.