Moral Character of Teachers

Author: Yang Wei
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-04-01
Features: Time flows like a river, and my teaching career is about to end. Counting the years, my first batch of students are now in their forties. Looking back, the past is vivid in my memory, and the older the event, the clearer the impression in my mind. The story of my first time stepping onto the teaching platform seems to have happened just yesterday.
I. From "Red Scarf Youth" to a Substitute Teacher
I remember it was an afternoon in early September 1972. I had been working as a "Red Scarf Youth" (hereinafter referred to as "Red Scarf Youth") in the countryside for over three years and was laboring in the paddy fields. Someone brought a message saying that Secretary Guo wanted me to go to the "Revolutionary Committee" (hereinafter referred to as "Revolutionary Committee") of the township immediately. I was skeptical because Secretary Guo was in charge of culture and education, not the Red Scarf Youth. What could he possibly want with me? Under the urging of the fellow villagers working alongside me, I quickly scrubbed my feet in the paddy field, put on plastic sandals, and climbed up and down the hills to the Revolutionary Committee five miles away.
When I arrived, I saw that the usually stern Secretary Guo seemed to be smiling, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I eagerly asked, "Secretary Guo, what do you need with me?"
"It's good news!" Secretary Guo said with a smile. "The Revolutionary Committee of the township has decided to let you teach as a substitute teacher at the township middle school."
I froze for a moment, then exclaimed loudly, "No way, I'm only in junior high school!"
Secretary Guo said seriously, "I've read the report you wrote about the heroic deeds of the advanced militia platoon. It's vivid and detailed, on the level of a senior high school student. Although you're only in junior high school, the township is using you as if you were a senior high school student." Seeing that I lacked confidence, Secretary Guo added, "You have to admit one thing—you're always better than your students."
With the faint confidence of "I'm always better than my students," I nervously stepped onto the podium. I still remember the first Chinese class, where because the textbooks hadn't arrived, I spent the entire lesson awkwardly copying Mao Zedong's "Shooting the Commandant—My Great Big Character Poster" onto the blackboard in a wobbly hand. I also remember feeling overwhelmed when teaching the difficult subject of scientific socialism in political class, yet feeling completely at ease when teaching the simple concept of the three elements of force in physics class. I remember the mischievous students calling the nucleus, cytoplasm, and cell wall of cells "yuzu (local term for pomelo) core," "yuzu seeds," and "yuzu skin" in agricultural science class. And I remember even more vividly how, during music class, I and the students sang "The Peony Blooms Red" with such passion that no one from other classes noticed we were still there after school.