Make small talk and take a day off

Style: Science Author: Looking southWords: 3235Update Time: 24/01/18 10:08:58
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 a few days ago, and a lot of unsatisfactory things happened, or it added a little bit of leverage to an already bad situation.

Well... being diagnosed with vitiligo, although it only made my appearance unsatisfactory, it was still a deep blow.

It's not a problem, I don't care much about my appearance, or I never have.

It doesn't matter if my face becomes so ugly, as long as my eyes remain gentle.

Then I called a specialist in the physical and mental health department on a whim. 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 early on was that pity is the saddest emotion.

When pity becomes the dominant emotion in contact, all other emotions lose their budding potential.

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... 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 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 methods advocated in today's society.

But now I can understand the meaning of that kind of harshness 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 definitely be touched.

But emotions of being touched, moved, and grateful are not the best ways 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, it was impossible for one person to give the same love to more than sixty children.

And 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.

She even gave me something that my parents couldn't give me, that thing is called dignity!

I was a frequent visitor to that teacher's office, and there was my name on the side of the teacher's desk, followed by three and a half "正" characters.

Every time he went to the teacher's office because he made a mistake, a stroke was added to his 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.

It was a very strange feeling, certainly not in line with common sense.

But I'm not the only "bad" student who feels this way. My close friends feel the same way.

That is, even though I can still think of 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, her powerful but slightly sharp 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, I can only now understand what it was.

That's respect!

That is not an adult's respect for a child, but a natural person's respect for another natural person.

In the eyes of teachers, there is a responsibility between teachers and students, and there is no gap between teachers and students.

Her teaching to 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 as one person treats another person.

She called each of her children by their names solemnly and earnestly, without any other changes except the name.

She would not call her students with professional titles such as "monitor" or "XX committee member" like the teachers I met later.

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 describe the things I experienced.

I can only express these things in words, so I was inspired by it 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 a good 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 in other people's mouths.

I am still grateful to her for this, without any special treatment, without that annoying and disturbing look of pity!

Some people just have 100,000 respects! Just the respect an adult would give a child who is about to mature the way he would treat a natural person!

I'm still grateful for that.

When I started writing this book, it was shortly after I resigned from school.

I hope to be a teacher like her and do my best to give all my students the respect they deserve.

It was also during that time that I truly understood everything I needed 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 great, and more importantly, both jobs have a common problem, that is, leadership.

When I was a reporter, my direct superiors and senior teachers were all very good people, they were real and straightforward, they had faith and belief and their own temperaments.

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.

Energetic 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 passing the blame... I didn't like this way of getting along, even though I kept silent about it most of the time. In the end, I chose to leave because of 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.

Neither job was 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 just such a simple choice is like a chasm for me.

Accusations and abuses are the same as before.

Tears, complaints, pouring out endless garbage, just like before!

Love, affection, and endless reasons are all the same as 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 truly 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 paused.

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