On becoming a school instructor, because you were, inspired to, translated…
Over a Decade Later, I’d Turned into a Teacher Too. I’d Come to Understand, that Teachers aren’t Born. It’s, Just that Some of Us Can Fight Off Our Own Evils, Some Can’t. Some Knew to Keep the Cruelties We Carried Wrapped Up, and Some of Us, Couldn’t…………
I still remembered her name.
We would be reassigned to new classes every two years in the elementary years, she was, my third grade homeroom instructor, with curly short hair, she’d dressed up in this loose, orange top, she’s about forty, looked just like any ordinary middle age woman.
In the first class, she’s, smiled on so radiantly. Later I’d found, that she smiled, very kindly, toward everything.
She’d worn her smiles, and told us, that she’s an advocate of “Educating with Love”.
She’d split up the whole class into seven separate groups, and assigned roles of a mother and a father to the two outstanding students of each group, while the rest of the other students became “children”. Hack then, I wasn’t as dumb as I’d, become right now, I’d passed the GT exams in the first grade—I’d still recalled one of the questions back then, using the terms the test administer to make a sentence, the terms were, “dusk”, “television”, “watermelon”, etc., etc., etc. I had no idea what the “dusk” was, and I’d, made used the term as a proper name, and turned in the sentence of “Ying and her sister, Dusk watched T.V. and ate the watermelons together.” The administer of the test gave me a ZERO, but I believed, that that was the test question that, proved that I was, genius.
My parents wanted me to have a happy childhood, I’d gotten into the gifted-and-talented program, but didn’t attend the classes, I’d, stayed in the regular elementary school, and met her. In her classifications, I’d, leapt into the “mother role” in the Penguin Group. The “dad” of the Penguins, was a boy, Yo, who loved history. As school began, Yo and I, would often read the bulletins posted on the back of the class, and used the stupid and quickest methods, to discuss history. All the knowledge, was from what I’d read up on in the book series, “Important Historical Figures”, as I’d told him of things he’d never heard of, he’d, nodded his head hard, and, just, brushed by the topics, then, switched to another discussion topic we can both talk about. Yo would always rubbed his hands, and commended me, “Such a genius! You’re, so very, outstanding!”
illustration from the papers online
The children are selected by the “mom” and the “dad”. And, the groups took turns, fighting for the children, those who made better grades, and are better behaved, are chosen first, leaving behind, the trouble children, and, as the moms and dads frowned on a long time, the lists still got, split just the same.
The teams of mom and dad must lead their children to glory. Located on the right side of the blackboards, was the animal symbol each of our team had, and, there were, the points given, for being quiet in class, cleanliness, answering questions correctly. Every once in a while, she’d, tallied up the points, those who had accumulated the most points of the class would get gifts such as stationery sets, or snacks. And, the group competitions, roused up our senses of honor—or rather, our senses of shame, as every one in the class, fought hard for honor, to avoid the shame.
The top scorers were mostly the elegant groups, the “Swans”, the “Dolphins”, but, we were, never last, because the last were always, this group of four “special needs” children who sat on the front rows—they were, the bottom fours, and, were led, by only one girl, sat, right in front of the board, to receive the basic educations that they needed.
As she’d announced this, I’d felt, that she was, such a kindhearted woman, how she’d, refused, to give up the rights for the special needs children, to receive an education. She had done, a ton of things, that looked out for the children with special needs all right, for instance, there was, a dirty girl, before we go out on our class trip, she’d told us, “this student was from a poverty stricken background, but she’d wanted to go with us too, on our class trip, can we all, chip in, to make her dreams come true?” We all wanted to become, kindhearted like her, and so, we’d, soon made the full amount, and that girl smiled on, more radiantly, as she stood up, to thank us all.
Because my teacher used loved to educated, she’d, favored a few kids, mostly were those who are from rich backgrounds, with parents who wouldn’t mind, coming to class to help out, or those who’d, become the teacher’s favorites. One of these students was, Ya-Ya (ahhhhhhh, she’d, given her the nickname too!), she was, very rude, wasn’t at all, popular. As we’d picked the heads of the class, she’d found, that Ya-Ya had never been called on, she’d asked, “Nobody want to nominate Ya-Ya?”, everybody remained quiet. As we were, picking our second-in-charge, someone in the class got too loud, she said, “everybody quiet down, we’re done, selecting today, we’ll, do it another time”, and on the following day, she’d, announce to the class, that Ya-Ya won.
She’d focused on rewards, reinforcements, but, she’d, punished us all, with more care and concerns than ever. Those who didn’t like listening to her in class, she’d, repeated herself again and again, with her smiles, until all the words would, get into all our ear canals.
Don’t know why, she’d, disliked Yo and me, during the class meetings, she’d mentioned us. She said, “Although, Jie Yang makes good grades, she’s, very selfish,” she’d had that unwilling smile on her face, with her hands on her waist, articulated the words, and, would sometimes, gestured to us with her fingers, and, poked us both severely, in the air. And, the lessons would, normally end there, then, she’d, started giving the two of us the moral education we were desperately in need of. Today, tomorrow, the next day, and the next, she had, never-ending patience, feared, that we don’t know, that being selfish was, bad for us.
As she’d, ranted at us both, everybody else fell silent. The students who were, horse-playing stopped, everybody, became frozen, in that, awkward atmosphere, like everybody was, hearing everything, and that, nobody was, hearing a single sound, like she was, telling us all, a joke that wasn’t, funny at all.
And Yo and I, at that very moment, would split up—Yo, with his soured face, with that scent of coldness about him, while I’d, forced that smile on my face, and, apologized daily to her.
Yo knew hate, and I, knew to hold it all in. What we were internally, were, exactly identical, it’s just, I hadn’t, known it back then. I’d felt, that so long as I smiled at my teacher, she’d, stopped getting so angry at me, like, I wasn’t, hurt anymore. If I didn’t appear hurt, the hurt, wouldn’t have, such an, adverse effect, right?
When she wasn’t scolding Yo and me, as “mom” and “dad”, we’d, scolded our “children”. We’d, duplicated what we’d learned from the adults, Yo was like a father in the traditional Chinese societies, taking care of the bigger matters, ignored the smaller, details of things, and I’d, become watchful over every single item.
At the age of nine, I too, was still, a child, how would I come to understand the concepts of “teaching based off of learning styles”, and what was, “developmentally appropriate”? The boys were especially naughty at that age, as they started up, I’d, threatened them, and if they still misbehaved, then, I’d, spanked them with the rulers, the louder our “children” laughed, the harder, I’d, hit them. Once, I’d used too much force, I’d, made a such bang, and that boy raised up his textbook high up in the air, and, hid in the back during the entire class period, he’d started, sniffling. I couldn’t bring myself to apologize to him, told the other children to ignore him, ignored how he was, feeling.
After our scheduled exams, the teacher allowed the children to recommend their “moms” and “dads” as model parents, and, if we were selected, we would, get rewarded, as a tiger mom, all my “children” hated me, they’d all complained, “Jie Yang was mean!”, “She’d hit us a lot!”
The “dads”, seemed to have, vanished, the other children of the other groups however, all enthusiastically recommended their “moms”. I’d realized, that I must’ve, done something wrong, and started, observing other “moms”. I’d found, that they were, all like my teacher, using love to educate, always smiled. And so, I’d, started, becoming loosened in my discipline, and started, laughing with my “kids”, and in that environment, I’d, become liked by them more, and, I guess, I will, like myself, a little bit, better too.
The kids forget their hatred very quickly. By the end of the next exams, as the model parents were, nominated, before it came our group’s turn, the “children” already, became rowdy to, nominated me. As our teacher heard, she’d said, “the Penguins were, getting too loud, NO model mom for you guys!”, at another time, the classmates nominated me for the model student, and this time, everybody was, quiet, she’d automatically, denounced me, “Jie Yang is too selfish in nature, unfitting to represent us as the role model of our class.”
Up to date, I’m, an adult, and became, a truly, selfish person. I couldn’t understand, what was it, that was, so selfish about me in the third grade, that I don’t, deserve the kindness or the attention? I’d, never hurt anybody back then, at most, some of the classmates may have complained to her on how stingy I was, that I wouldn’t, lend her my eraser, could it be, that my refuse to lend my classmate the eraser, that I’d, gotten, shot down by my teacher?
It took me a very long time, to speculate the matter. And, as I grew up, I’d become, more and more, selfish, and can, understand how I’d, turned into the person that I turned out to be, the conclusions I came to was—another girl, whom our teacher favored, Jun, always scored third on the exams, because Yo and I took the highest and second-highest scores from her. She’d, hated Yo and me, because, we caused Jun to not be the most excellent student in class?
What was weird was, although she’d, talked down to us every single day, it seemed, to not have an effect on the other students of my class, Yo and I were, never singled out, maybe, it’s, because, in the dog-eat-dog world, Yo and I, scored, very high grades? Or maybe, back in the third grade, we still, had yet, to learn that we have the rights, to HATE someone?
That was in the mid-90s, before the terms of “monster parents” had been, coined, the teachers had, absolutely powers, the concepts of respecting our instructors, became matter-of-fact in my coming-of-age. I’d never discussed this matter with any of my classmates, I didn’t even, DARE hating her in my mind. I only felt, that day after day, forcing my smiles in her class was, too hard.
Yo and I, no longer discussed history between the classes anymore, plus, we had, a difference of opinions in managing our “children”, we’d slowly, become, aloof to one another, only when she’d, criticized us, we’d become, “connected”. And yet, Yo appeared, so cold, and we can only, shoulder our separate shares of the burdens together.
As I’d, managed, to fool myself, I couldn’t, fool my family. After I returned home from school, I always looked like I had a lot on my mind, especially before bed, thinking of how the following day I was, to go to school again, I’d felt, upset. I couldn’t see my own expressions, but my parents had. They’d, inquired many times, and I’d, never told. Until one evening, I’d, hung myself, onto the edge of the couch, just, stared into space, mom asked me again, and, I’d, squealed to them, more and more, although I’d felt, I shouldn’t, but, it was, as if, they really actually, wanted to know about it. There was, that small train inside of me, that, slowly, brought out the happening during the class out bit by bit, some had, rushed off the trains, run toward my parents’ embraces, while others, had stayed onboard, and, were, driven, into the blackhole of my mind.
On that very evening, it was like, I got, stapled to the couch, couldn’t move. I didn’t want my parents to see me in pain, for I’d, feared that they may, feel my pains, and that, I may, find even more, great pains, that were, suppressed even deeper in. After I’d, told the whole story, I’d, tried to, “disinfect” told them that I was, okay now, that it wasn’t, a big deal, but the second day my mother told me, to bring a letter written by her hand, to school, and, I kept, not wanted to.
As she’d read the letter, she’d called me to her desk at the nap hour, smiled that more gentle smile I’d ever seen her smiled, told me, “Jie Yang, it’s because of how outstanding you are scholastically, I’d wanted to, push you to be even better, to be more excellent, that was why I’d said what I said in class.” I’d actually, realized how she was, trying to, brush my parents off, to lie to me like that, but I’d still, smiled and told her I knew of her mind. I just, wanted to, end this conversation, before any of my classmates hear about it.
As I went home during those couple of days, I’d seemed to have heard my parents discussing transferring me to another class, or to another school, after all, they were, the milder, the gentler kinds of parents. I feared becoming singled out, and the days in school got harder for me, so I’d, strongly, told them it wasn’t, necessary. Later my parents found, that the original homeroom instructor got pregnant, and she was only, a sub, and only hired for one year, that we will have, brand new homeroom teacher in the fourth grade.
And so, that was, how that, ended. One day, I saw her call Yo to her too, for an entire afternoon, and that, was the very first time that Yo had, smiled at her. And, the secrets had, become, buried, between the three of us then. She’d, stopped calling Yo or me out in class again.
Don’t know if it was, because the school couldn’t, find us a new homeroom instructor, before the end of the third grade, the school announced, that we will all, go to different existing classes next year. And, as everybody felt bad, standing in place for the class photo, I was, the only one who felt, happy about it.
As I entered into the fourth grade, into, a brand new class, I’d, worked even harder, to become, a good kid. I’d become, the most personable, student who’d, made the highest grades in class, and, all the votes, I’d won, because, I’d, never acted, selfish again.
I never saw her at school again. But, I’d, often gotten reminded of her, just, never, missed her at all.
More than a dozen years later, I became a teacher myself. I’d, come to understand, that nobody was born, teacher, some can fight off the evils within ourselves, some couldn’t. Some knew to keep one’s own sense of cruelty in check, some couldn’t. Perhaps, she wasn’t, naturally, “evil”, I only hope, that she, wasn’t, teaching anymore!
Sometimes, I am unsure, of how the sense of suppression in my personality had been formed because of this past experience. But, it’s, no longer important to me, as I, came close to age thirty now. But, what was always on my mind was Yo, how did he grow up? Does he, still, wear his, lonely expressions on his face
My last moments of “intimately relating” to Yo was one afternoon, when we’d, stopped carrying on in conversations in between the classes, as our “children” hugged onto my thighs, and started, I’d screamed toward him, “Hey dad! Why don’t you come and discipline your children!”, Yo was busying on something, he’d, left it behind instantly, rushed in, and, successfully, ward off the “children”. At that very moment, Yo appeared as, this hero who’s, unfraid, strong.
And so, the teacher may have, gone overboard in expecting this female student to perform well, and, the teacher was, fitting this young child, into adult shoes she wasn’t, quite ready for, and she’d, suffered for it, but, after the teacher explained things, she’d, come to understand, and, the “trainings” that this person received in the third grade, had certainly helped her, to become, this easier to get along, this kinder person as she grew older.
Life, the Obstacle Course 