Chapter 3 Chapter 03

The principal of the Sixth Elementary School is a middle-aged man with a bushy beard on his cheeks; he is not tall, but rather thick, and looks like an inkpot from a distance; his eyes are turning around, as if a new change is produced every time he turns; The skin on his face is rough, like a seasoned detective waiting for someone's negligence.He has been the principal of the Sixth Primary School for four or five years, which means that he has enjoyed the property for four or five years.He tried his best to attract customers, and there were quite a few students; he also tried his best to reduce expenditure and increase his own surplus, so students only received a new writing brush every semester, and if the writing was broken, the parents would buy it again, otherwise they would be in the school. Practice calligraphy on the slate.Now that he hears that a new guy is coming, he can't help but feel a little worried: Even if the new guy can't help him run the business, at least he shouldn't be a hindrance to him, can this be fulfilled? ...

When Huanzhi saw the principal's face for the first time, he felt unfamiliar and disgusted. He never expected the principal to be like this.But when he stated that he was willing to be taught, he had absolute sincerity; he thought that he was completely inexperienced, and it was somewhat apologetic to partner with this veteran veteran of four or five years.From this, the headmaster felt relieved when he saw that the new boy was an easy kid to deal with. The school building is a gloomy and dilapidated temple.The main hall is a classroom, and each of the two verandahs is a classroom.The atrium is the playground.Under the two peach trees, there were a few wooden balls that fell from wooden dumbbells, and some bagasse.

In the three classrooms, the desks and chairs with black paint turned gray and white, and the blackboards on the walls showed horizontal cracks.Silent, dark, cold.Especially in the main hall, the high algae well is tangled with dust and cobwebs, as if a snake or a ghost may fall down at any time. Huanzhi looked at the classroom in the main hall suspiciously, thinking that this is where he will spend his energy and time.He thought that the school should at least have glass windows, bright light, and a preparation room where one can sit and read a book—how could it be a dream!Is life here worthwhile and interesting?He wanted to force himself to believe that there was, but he always felt that he was lying to himself.

He turned his head sadly, only to see the principal's eyes turned to him, like an owl hiding in the bushes.He thought to himself that this person was his working partner.He usually imitates the teacher's demeanor, thinking that he should always have a pleasant face.But the headmaster's face proved that his imitation was wrong.He also felt that he didn't have three words to talk to the headmaster. Discussion and discussion didn't seem like his favorite things.So, although there are three classrooms in one school, aren't they independent schools? When he bid farewell to the principal and went home, he felt wronged, he had nothing else in front of him but was ready to make a sacrifice, like a beautiful and chaste virgin marrying a frivolous girl against her will.In bed at night, did not sleep well in the middle of the night.At first, it was to manage the habitual complaints; later, it turned to be philosophical, thinking that a person is so insignificant, even if he sacrifices, it is nothing; at the end, he thought about the difference between life and death, the pond in the abandoned garden, and "Mahayana Awakening Letters" Argument"……

In the Spring Festival, the school starts.Huanzhi's first day as a teacher was a gloomy and rainy day.Walking into the temple, I saw many children running around in the courtyard.Wet clothes were scattered here and there, and muddy shoe prints were left on the brick floor one by one.Several fifteen or sixteen-year-old students, not much younger than Huanzhi, were standing up on the teaching desk and singing Peking opera that they couldn't sing. This was their New Year's fun. Introduced by the principal, Huanzhi met another partner.This man is a patient with the second stage of lung disease, his cheeks are sunken into two pools, his nose is like a vertical piece of wood, his forehead is shining with a dull pale light, his pronunciation is very low, hissing, and his throat is like a net mess. Silk.

Huanzhi couldn't help being shocked, and thought to himself: "Is this person also the teacher of the students! Although the theory of education is profound, it can be included in one sentence, which is to make students live. How can we give them the incarnation of death! But after reading this Temple, this person is worthy of being a teacher. Otherwise, it would be disharmonious. But I... have also become the incarnation of death!" Huanzhi was not sure about teaching on stage; although he had read some books on teaching methods, he had completely forgotten about it here.For several days, he could only watch and follow the example of his two companions.They taught classes by shouting at the top of their throats, and even the patient with lung disease actually entered and exited a fairly loud muted voice.Most of the shouts were questions.When asking questions, I didn't hesitate to repeat them again and again, and didn't stop until I heard the answers they expected.For example, ask: What do we eat every day?The answer was: porridge.So he asked again: "Besides porridge, what do you eat?" The answer was: Rice.So I asked again: Besides rice, what do you eat?The answer was: noodles, steamed buns, flatbread, fried dough sticks.So I had to ask another way: Don't we drink tea every day?He replied: Really, we have tea every day.This is considered satisfactory, and I started to turn to this topic and said: We will talk about this "tea" today.

Apart from asking, most of the time is singing.One Chinese lesson was just taught, and an algorithmic formula was taught. The teacher began to sing solo, and then the students sang along with the teacher, and then each student sang solo, and then all the students sang in chorus.The tune is a bit like monks and priests chanting scriptures, and it's a bit like the long "Hang Yu" sound of water workers.This is the "quintessence" of a school, and it has its own lifeblood; new teachers and students fall into its sockets as soon as they start singing, and they have absolutely no power to control it.

What else can Huanzhi do besides shouting and singing?But he really despised himself for doing so.At the age of nearly twenty, I thought I had never fallen, but now I started to fall.The blind girl who sells singing on the street, a beggar, stands still and shouts at people, and sings for one or two coppers.How is my own situation different from theirs!And they are worse than them; they may have one or two good accents, one or two moving lines, which can make the listeners nod and praise; but they have nothing to do with the small audience, and they are singing and shouting. I don't know what to say, and sitting and listening is like watching a gorilla gesticulating and howling.

He felt that those little audiences were too unlovable.What he taught was originally the lower grades, and the oldest student was only about ten years old. Compared with the thick and tall temple pillars, they are even more tiny.Children's loveliness, vivacity, and wisdom never seem to have sprouted in them. Some of them are treacherous, dull, and rough.Those street hooligans who wear their hats on one side, put their hands in the pockets of their jackets, turn their bodies sideways, clench their teeth, and prepare to spit out a vicious curse as soon as they let go, seem to be quite acceptable in them. Find a few.

Huanzhi also thought at first, don't worry about anything else, he is teaching the students, so let's find some comfort from the students.But it soon proved that this was just delusional.He told them to listen quietly, but they still talked, laughed and argued. He heard his own voice begging for help, accompanied by various noises, and even his own voice was drowned in the noise.He had no choice but to stop talking.The students felt strange at first, and stopped silently like Xia Yu stopped.But then there was a teasing laugh.This made Huanzhi angry, so he raised his pointer whip, intending to smack either of them (the two partners often did this, and it seemed to be quite effective at the time), but his hand was not in the habit of slapping it down. It seemed that it was not going well, and I shrank halfway.All that was left was to mutter indignantly and sadly: "You nasty little thing!"

When class was over, there was a teahouse-like noise in my ears, and there was chaos in front of my eyes, as if a martial arts drama was being staged.On a sunny day, dust flies into the mouth, and the upper and lower teeth grind, and you only feel the brakes and brakes; on rainy days, the mud from the road and the courtyard is brought into the classroom, and it is everywhere.There is simply no place to settle down!Let’s sit in the preparation room (actually it’s a back porch behind the two doors in front of the atrium, a long and narrow one, with a few boards nailed and a few windows opened, it’s considered the preparation room), and I’m afraid of listening to the headmaster recite the horse general card from the previous night , and people with lung disease gasping for breath.He and people from two countries who seem to have a language gap with them can't continue after speaking a sentence or two of everyday phrases with difficulty.It's not good to sit together and ignore each other, and I don't like to listen to their conversations, so I have to stand on the steps and count the corrugated roofs on the top of the temple. When the two peach trees in the courtyard were in bloom, the sunlight brought intoxicating heat, and this ancient temple was full of youth.Huanzhi looked at the splendid flowers with both eyes, his limbs were crispy and limp; suddenly he felt the shadows of the flowers and branches floating, tears oozing out. So he went to the hotel to drink alone.Every night I go home with seven or eight points of alcohol, eat dinner with restraint, and talk to my parents.As soon as he lay down on the bed, something seemed to cover his head, and he couldn't control it anymore. He always whimpered softly.While crying, he thought confusedly: "The bitterness in the world, the punishment of the crown, is the teacher's life! When will we leave? When will we leave!" He really didn't dare to say the word "separation" openly.The parents are reassuring that their son has a considerable career, so of course it is not easy to hurt their hearts by saying harsh words.In addition, it seems that I have taken a responsibility to someone, and suddenly said that I can't bear it, and my conscience is extremely difficult.So when the school year ended, he managed to change schools.He hoped that the new realm would be better. Although it was not a breakaway, it would not be as painful as sinking into that disgusting temple. But still the same!But the temple has changed to the ancestral hall, and the colleagues and students have changed to a group with different names. This year, his father passed away due to an old kidney disease.Heartbroken, burdened with family financial burdens, and unsatisfactory at work, he was haggard; the vigorous spirit of youth two or three years ago had almost disappeared.When I came home, I faced my mother silently, bowing my head and sighing. The situation was really miserable. After two years, he changed schools again, but he met a colleague worthy of admiration.That colleague is a simple person, who has been a teacher for six or seven years, and he does not have the quack spirit of ordinary teachers; he not only teaches students to read a few words, but also pays attention to every move of the students, as well as their physique and temperament; he is not like that. Banduo said that he just mixed with the students, laughed with them, and ran with them. Once, a student made the mistake of bullying a classmate and was quite stubborn. When the teacher asked him, he didn't admit his mistake, didn't make excuses, and just didn't speak.The teacher looked at him kindly, telling him to calm down and think about whether such a thing should happen.The student suddenly showed a vicious look like a hooligan and said, "I don't know! You can punish him however you want!" "Don't do this, or you will regret it later," said the teacher, holding the student's trembling hand. "It doesn't matter if you make a little mistake, you don't need to be strong; as long as you understand it, you will never make a mistake again." The negotiation lasted until two o'clock.As a result, the student cried, and since Chen repented, there were tears of gratitude in the corners of the teacher's eyes. Seeing this, Huanzhi couldn't help but tell the teacher that it was too hard to spend so much time dealing with a student. "It's not hard work, I like it," said the teacher with a satisfied smile. "And I'm grateful to him that he believed in me and ended up taking my advice." This seems to be a very common word, but Huanzhi, who has been a teacher for more than three years, has never heard it.Hearing this made his heart turn in a different direction. He thought he was sinking into hell, but who knew that someone decorated this hell and turned it into heaven.My youth is still there, my vitality is still rich, and I am sad in vain, what's the point!Even if it is hell, why not decorate it! So he checked out a few educational books he had read before, and bought some more; imitated that colleague's attitude in teaching homework and treating students; and often discussed educational issues and current facts with that colleague; From these he got a lot of fresh and strong tastes.It's like a couple who have been together for many years. They didn't agree with each other at first, but later the true feelings were triggered, and the love reached a feverish level. It was different from the good one at the beginning. Jin Shubo was Huanzhong's classmate in high school, and they got along quite well.After Shubo graduated, he went back to the countryside to manage the property, so the two rarely met.But every one and a half months I always reply to each other, which is no different from seeing each other often.At this time, the tone of Huanzhi's letter suddenly changed, from melancholy to glorious; the letter described many ideals, some of which were waiting to be done, and some of which were uncertain.When Uncle Shu read these letters, he naturally felt comforted, but he also thought of "Unexpectedly, Huanzhi is going to be an educator". Shubo's fellow countryman, Jiang Bingru, came back from studying in Japan, and he is from his old hometown. Although he has no name in the countryside, everyone admits that he has a special status.When the principal of the local public primary school left due to some business, he succeeded him as the principal.Why he is willing to become the principal of a primary school, of course most people don't understand very well, but they know that he will never work for a job, because he has land and shops, and there are quite a lot of them. At the beginning of this year, when the school wanted to hire a new grade teacher, Uncle Shu mentioned Huanzhi, and described his thoughts and actions in the past two years in detail and vividly.Bingru was very happy to hear that, and immediately decided to invite him; and urged Shubo to send a boat to pick him up, saying that this little obligation to the locality should be fulfilled.