Campus Love Stories: “Hero” Lao Jiang
During the National Day holiday, I met Lao Jiang again, my high school history teacher. I wanted to invite him to a teahouse for a chat, but he flatly refused: “Why waste money on that?” He drove me to a suburban area with flowers and water and, like a magician, pulled out a folding tent and carpet from the trunk. In no time, he set up a “natural tea house.”
“Lao Jiang, what have you been busy with lately?” “Traveling around the world. Can’t you see my professional gear?” I thought he was joking.
Twenty years ago, when I was in school, Lao Jiang was a provincially recognized excellent teacher and a key faculty member at our school. Where did he find the time to travel? I asked him, “Do you still talk about life with your students?” Lao Jiang smiled wryly, “Kids these days aren’t interested in that…”
Once upon a time, Lao Jiang was the “spiritual idol” of students.
Elegant in demeanor, he had a naturally round face, but his eyes were sharp, and his voice was powerful.
He was our teacher but insisted we call him “Lao Jiang.” He was 20 years older than us but knew our slang and cheating methods. During class meetings, instead of the usual “three major disciplines and eight points of attention,” he would ask, “Ladies and gentlemen, please ponder, ‘Who are we? Where do we come from? Where are we going?'” He treated students as equals and enjoyed discussing philosophical issues with us.
For those of us in a small town who only focused on studying for college entrance exams, every class meeting with Lao Jiang was undoubtedly an “enlightenment movement.” We admired Lao Jiang immensely, each of us carrying a small notebook to jot down “Jiang’s quotes” verbatim, such as “Think ahead and take the initiative” or “The thing you least want to do right now is precisely what you need to do the most.” We could recite every word by heart.
Lao Jiang played basketball with the shortest boy in the class during 10-minute breaks; he suggested to the shyest girl, “Your voice is great; you should learn ethnic singing.” If he found a student reading a comic book during evening self-study, he would confiscate it but not punish them.
Instead, he would squint and say, “Go home and write an essay on your views about Japanese anime. If it’s good, I’ll let you off the hook.” Later, that student went to Peking University after the college entrance exam, and this essay became one of Lao Jiang’s favorite stories when educating students.
Before our graduation, during the last class, Lao Jiang wrote his phone number on the blackboard, along with the then-trendy “QQ” number. “If you go out there and have any issues, contact me anytime, but don’t embarrass me,” he said proudly. “My students may not be academic stars, but they must have some pursuits.”
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
