Someone said in film reviews that your life has been changed by your teacher. I don’t have one, but I know that some people’s lives have been changed by Teacher Keating. As for me, I have probably been changed. In the third year of high school when it was incompatible with the real ideal, my Chinese teacher stood on the podium and said "Tolerance" and Kafka. He occasionally watched almost everyone under the table doing math learning problems. Including me.
Later, I watched this well-known "Spring Wind and Rain". Seeing the teacher humming a small tune into the classroom, teaching them to tear up the introduction of the book, the children's eyes were lit up for an instant. I thought of my senior year in a daze. In fact, I really want to say sorry to that teacher, I can even think of the wry smile on his face. He told us at the time, what is the problem, in fact, these questions are not difficult at all. He often makes senseless complaints about some questions, and our brows will be frowned at this time, and our urgency for the correct answer has reached a morbid state.
Or any place in the world, the role of the school is similar. Send good kids to good schools, pick out bad kids and throw them out.
Schools, it is always difficult to become a true pursuit of excellence, even though all schools use this as a advertised place. It makes me feel sick when I see certain sentences. For example, "Today you will be proud of XX, and tomorrow XX will be proud of you". Because I know they will never really be proud of us, they are just proud of prestigious schools or high salaries. In fact, it’s true. We are just “materials” that can be accepted by others because they are useful. Even those books that guide life tell us that no one will keep you with dignity.
I have been studying for many years since I was young. Both top and poor students have been in different subjects. When I covered my face and wiped my tears for a certain score, I wondered what I must do to be like a person?
Yes, I just want to find the only answer that the school wants.
May I ask you educators who have spent a lot of time, what can I do to be more like a person?
When Keating got into the classroom, there was still a thick stack of books on the children's desks. Their minds are full of things like triangles, chemistry, and Latin. They also eagerly recorded the sentences the teacher said on the paper, as if remembering that they would get all the benefits in the book, it was no different from us who were pecking at the rice back then. But the teacher told them to sip the essence of life. Don't reach the end of life and realize that you have never lived.
He said, CARPE DIEM, because you will also turn into dust.
He took the paper basket to collect the forewords thrown away by the child.
He asked all the students to call him "the captain".
He asked the children to write their own poems.
He forced Todd to recite his poems in a daze.
He told them that there was a "Death Poetry Society" in a cave somewhere.
I was watching the teacher's spring and rain with a smile. I thought this teacher could change something like this.
Then, Charlie blatantly opposed the school rules and was taken to the principal's office for punishment. He said he was a fighter, Nuwanda. He grabbed the poetry that we all wanted to grasp, tried to fight the world with this kind of thing, and hit the south wall with his head. Keating walked over and advised him not to be choked by bones while sipping the essence of life. I can see the confusion in his eyes. We all know that such a person is being pulled at both ends. On the one hand, he agrees with the children, and on the other hand, he wants to protect them from being destroyed by the storm as an adult.
Afterwards, Neil argued with his father because he appeared in Shakespeare's comedy "A Midsummer Night's Dream", and found out that all the methods he thought could solve the status quo were futile, and then he raised his father's pistol. He opened the window before dying, put the crown of thorns on his head, and ended his life.
The poetry of their sipping became the reason why the school hurt them.
These children also feel that they just want to live, want to do what they like, want not to be defeated by reality, want to pursue the girl they like, want not to betray themselves, want to stand on the stage Perform a play of your own.
But even these are extravagant hopes.
In the end, the school desperately needed a scapegoat, and they chose Teacher Keating. Finally the teacher left sadly, and the children of the poetry club stood on the table and read what they had heard in the teacher's class, "Oh, captain, my captain", even though their captain fell on the deck.
When Baofeng Yingyin jumped out of the screen, I thought of Hesse's "Under the Wheel" again. The children inside also fell into the river because they understood what a real life was. People like Teacher Keating are always out of the ordinary. He eagerly hopes that children can truly see life and understand the poetry of life while running a bank and becoming a doctor. He sharpened all their sense of touch, allowed them to touch life and sipped the fruit of life, but at the same time, he must endure the confrontation of reality, even the betrayal of reality. So Neil died.
So, oh captain, my captain, can you tell me, what on earth can I do to be more like a person?
Oh, captain, my captain, what can I do to avoid the fate of being under the wheel and escape the ending as a victim?
Oh, captain, my captain, why does the crown of thorns bring us not the real crown but death?
When I was young, I hope someone can give me a questionable and convincing answer, and then I will walk all the way to the dark, all the way to death. It was later discovered that this answer does not really exist. You must really feel the pain before you know that it is called an injury; you must really feel the pain before you understand that it may be life. No one can really guide others' lives. All life mentors are bullshit.
If I were a student, I would also hope to meet someone like Mr. Keating. He will really tell you what the world is, what a person is, and what I must do to get close to life and live my life. Maybe some people can do everything well without asking the goal and the result, without asking the reason and why. They are strong. However, ordinary people will constantly ask questions, constantly think, constantly feel the impact of reality, constantly doubt and constantly deny, and finally establish a fulcrum that is sufficient to support life, and then take their own crown and embark on the road of thorns.
His answer is not the kind of disgusting standard answer, even full of loopholes, but it is worthy of your thinking, worthy of your doubt, worthy of your overthrow. Because it is sincere. He will tell us that there is another way of being. It turns out that I am different from others and it is not shameful. It turns out that this is the life I really want. I pursue the life I want, just what I should do, not wrong. He will tell us the poetry of life, tell me the earth of mankind, tell me that everyone is traversing the path in the forest, walking through the muds of life.
But everyone knows that this is unrealistic. We also need someone to tell me the answers to the papers in front of me, how to deal with the maddening essay questions issued by the Ministry of Education, how to deal with the endless blanks on the English papers, and how to learn from so many people. Got a letter of admission. Behind me are the eagerly anticipated gazes of the parents, the teachers tirelessly admonishing them, and the enrollment rate closely pursued by the school. I do not deny that the relationship between academic qualifications and abilities is almost zero, but at least this road of not tossing oneself is relatively short. I don't need to turn around to get the so-called place and small dignity. This world is so difficult, or it is very strong, or very numb, or it is impossible to survive. Keating taught them keenness, but they didn't learn to be strong, so Neil eventually died in the ice and snow below the stage. If the teacher has never told them what is true poetry, what is true love, or if Neil can live, even if he does things he doesn’t like and spends his life like a chess piece—it may not even be unhappy, because happiness is more than one. Kind of shape.
But why is it like a mistake to pursue what you like? Is it wrong to like what we like? Want to make choices like humans, instead of hunting for food by instinct like other animals, why has it become an extremely luxurious dream?
Like every parent's ardent expectation of us, the perfect us in their imagination has almost no intersection with what we think. Their experience is enough to despise our passion, their indissoluble love is the pressure we have to accept. Moreover, we have no a priori reason to reject parents with these experiences. We have been worrying them for so many years, we owe them hundreds of thousands, owe them unlimited favors, and owe a living life. They use reprimands and tears to tell you that the road ahead is not like you imagined. You are committing a crime now. I would rather let you cry now than in a few decades. I would rather owe you a childhood and give you an adult. In front of these things, how do you tell me to talk about my ideals, about my change of the world, about my bravery and persistence?
Why is this love so heavy? All people are kind, and all people are not happy. Or my thinking is simply wrong, life is full of suffering, don’t cry for part of life, don’t you see that the whole life is jerking to tears?
Sometimes I really wonder why no matter it is us, teachers, or parents, it looks like sacrifice on the altar. Some people say that it is a system problem, but the system is just a system. In any case, a system is needed. At least I can't find another way to solve the current contradiction. We are using the law of the jungle in the classroom.
Is it true that no matter how we do it, it will not change our destiny that is crushed by the times, whether we pursue poetry or pursue utter sage and abandon wisdom, we cannot escape the destiny of being sacrificed? Or is it just because I'm too stupid, smart people can always get a path of fulfillment that not only satisfies their dreams, but also satisfies the masses?
Is it because I'm not smart enough, I shouldn't pursue something that I don't have, and should embark on a safer path?
Between heading south and north, you always need to choose a direction. Some great people can always make a way in a maze that no one can get out of, avoiding all the rules, and heading all the way to the north, NB coax. I wait for ordinary people to just play stupid with the flow, and it's safe to be a SB. But NB is not capable, and SB is not reconciled. I don’t want to be a nerd, I don’t want to be an angry youth, I don’t want to be someone else’s negative textbook, I don’t want to give up my dreams, I don’t want to live just for money, I don’t want to make my parents sad, I don’t want to be a selfish person...
Oh, captain, my captain, why is this route so difficult? Which way should I go, and which direction should I choose?
Oh, captain, my captain, I don't want to be a SB, but I can't be an NB. Is it true that people like us should not pursue excellence, pursue dreams, and pursue a true and comfortable life?
Osamu Dazai wrote in the work of the swan, he was born, sorry.
Even if flowers and love poems can never beat planes and cannons, and cannot beat interests and power, after all, I still want something that can comfort a desolate life. Even if it sounds like a lie, I want someone to say "the third time she was given to choose the easy and the hard, she chose easy." Even though life is so difficult, I still want a little bit different from the happiness of the world Beautiful spring flowers bloom.
Oh, captain, my captain, can we live like people? I really want.
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