Reflections on Teacher's Day

For quite some time now, I’ve felt this holiday having less and less to do with me—honestly, today’s date (September 11th) is far more memorable to most people. But this year, the sudden influx of holiday-related feeds caught my attention, putting me in the mood to reminisce about my past teachers.

Looking back, though the vast majority were mediocre and narrow-minded—especially during my childhood—there were indeed a select few who truly deserved the title of “mentor.” This was particularly true during my university years and after entering the workforce; ironically, the “teachers” at this stage of life are the ones who contributed most meaningfully to our personal growth. Being just a few years older, they shared their hard-earned life lessons with us. Despite the slight age gap and differing views on certain matters, their guidance was incredibly valuable.

Honestly, I don’t hold the teaching profession in high regard. The reason is simple: they are “tirelessly destroying” rather than “tirelessly teaching” (a pun on huiren bujuan). Low educational background, poor personal qualities, overly worldly-wise, and obsessed with petty office politics—this is my general impression of most teachers I’ve encountered.

Much like doctors, perhaps due to systemic issues in our society, our teachers are a far cry from what teachers should be. Combined with the traditional guild-like master-apprentice mentalities, it has made the education sector deeply unpopular. Looking at them, you can barely see any hope or future for society.

“Teacher’s Day Gifts”—this phrase has always rubbed me the wrong way. The very first time I stressed over this was the first Teacher’s Day after transferring to a new elementary school. Back then, because my classmates’ parents were either wealthy or politically connected, gifting teachers was treated like an absolute mission of utmost importance. I still vividly remember buying a thermos flask to give to the teacher. She accepted it without a shred of hesitation, yet her face showed absolutely no sign of gratitude or warmth. Looking back, I really shouldn’t have given her that gift, but in an environment so thoroughly corrupted by gift-giving culture, I simply had no choice.

I’ve been through many Teacher’s Days since then, and for the most part, I stopped giving gifts. I might have sent small tokens to a few teachers I had great relationships with, but I can’t recall them at all. What actually stuck with me were the warm moments we spent together. Real emotion is the true precursor to any gift; otherwise, even the most expensive present will eventually fade from memory, leaving you unable to recall the moment at all.

Fast forward to today, and my own child is already in preschool. Today, he came home and told us that the other kids brought gifts for the teacher, but since he didn’t have one, he felt left out and unhappy. This made me incredibly furious, instantly taking me back to my own childhood. Although the circumstances are different, the fact that a trivial holiday gift could make a child unhappy and cast a shadow of social exclusion is reason enough, in my eyes, to scrap this holiday entirely.

But if you think about it, neither the holiday nor the teachers are inherently at fault. It’s the hypocritical parents—who trash teachers behind their backs yet force their kids to present gifts face-to-face—who are to blame. Your gifts are incredibly cheap; their monetary cost is low, and their moral meaning is utterly shallow. It makes me wonder: aren’t these parents just like the sycophantic kids back in my childhood who presented gifts to curry favor?

Time marches on, and almost nothing is remembered. Even the most vibrant flowers wither quickly, blowing away in the wind, completely unnoticed. And what about those old classmates? They’ve vanished without a trace, or perhaps they’re still busy buying Teacher’s Day gifts for their own children now.

I have always firmly believed that idiots will always be idiots, and the children they raise will grow up to be idiots too. If they cannot discard these toxic social habits and their next generation remains just as ignorant as the last, why should anyone waste any sympathy on them?