My name is Xia Wu, and I am a psychology teacher in a merit-based school.
When there was a knock on the office door, I was immersed in the pot of silver fir.
"Please come in."
A boy was leaning at the door, his school uniform was loose, and his eyes had a premature sophistication: "Teacher, hurry up in class." He paused, and the corners of his mouth curved in a warm arc, "Anyway, we don't jump off the building."
My hand holding the pen paused slightly. Two weeks ago, did that girl in Class 5, Grade 2, use the same tone?
The sun shines on the silver fir leaves, and the shadows cast are suddenly a bit dazzling.
Wrong.
The words were too light and smooth, like a well-remembered line.
Maybe it wasn't right from the beginning.
Purpose: social criticism
Under the pressure cooker of elite education, psychological viruses are more destructive than performance rankings
Deconstruction of human nature
Game of Thrones in Teenage Hidden Battlegrounds: How the Disciplined Become the New Butchers
Come on(???????)