And then I remember. I remember why I’m still teaching. It’s the children. They’re more important than a lifetime filled with quiet evenings and more valuable than a pocket filled with money. The world of noise, pronouns, accent and homework is my world.

 

Promises to Keep

By Kris Hamm Rose

     I’m a teacher. But there are days, like today, when I wonder why. It’s been a tough¹ day.  The results of an English quiz taken by my seventh-graders made me depressed. Despite my best efforts, the world of pronouns remains a mystery² to them. How I wish there is a way to make the study of our language as exciting as a computer game, so the glazed³ looks would not appear in their eyes at the mention of⁴ the word “grammar”.

     I wanted to spend my lunch period thinking of a way to enrich the next day’s lesson, but a child became sick and needed me to gather her assignments⁵ while she waited for her mother. It took longer than I thought so there wasn’t time for lunch. Then an argument broke out at recess⁶. Angry boys needed to be calmed and hurt feelings soothed⁷ before we could return to the classroom. We were all emotionally spent and found it hard to⁸ return to the open text-books.

 

    Hunger had given me a heavy headache, lingering⁹ long after the last child filed out¹⁰ for car pool¹¹. Now, hours later as I sat on the bus, rubbing aching temples¹², I remember my husband’s words, delivered¹³ like a lecture, after other days like this. “Why don’t you quit? You’d probably make more money doing something else, and you wouldn’t have papers to grade¹⁴ every night.”

     This late afternoon, I’m considering the wisdom of his words. I have a stack of¹⁵ papers to grade, which I promised my seventh-graders I would return tomorrow. But tonight a friend, whom I haven’t seen in a year, is visiting from Belgium, and I told her I would keep this evening free.

    

    Frustration¹⁶ builds as traffic slows, and I realize it’s rush hour¹⁷. No matter how hard I try¹⁸, I can’t seem to get out of my classroom ahead of the traffic. The world of my profession, a world filled with children, requires so much time. After school today, we had a faculty meeting¹⁹. Events had to be planned, problems solved, new ideas discussed. So many details to remember. Just when I thought my day was over, a student peeked²⁰ her head into the classroom to remind²¹ me I had promised to help her with a difficult assignment. The building was empty when I returned her to her waiting mother and wearily²² walked to the bus station.

 

    Sitting in heavy traffic, it’s hard not to replay the day and revisit the tension²³. The driver turns on the radio. There comes a familiar song. I close my eyes and lean²⁴ against the chair, hoping the comfort will ease my frustration and aching head. But the last notes of the familiar melody²⁵ are interrupted by news from the real world. Stock prices are down. Crime²⁶ is up. The sound of gunfire fills the car as a broadcaster reveals²⁷ the horror of life in a distant country. A strained²⁸ voice reports the body of a local youngster, missing for weeks, has been identified. Too much real world has invaded²⁹ my space.

    This missing child has had a profound³⁰ effect on my seventh-graders. Every morning since she was first reported missing, my children have discussed news reports about her and prayed³¹ for her safe return.

 

    Their concern was not only for her and her family but also³² for themselves. After all, she was one of them. A child believing herself to be safe and secure in her own neighborhood. My students, only one year younger than the tragic³³ victim³⁴, wondered, “If it happened to her, could it happen to me?” Their thoughts and fears mirrored my own as I tried to find the right words to calm anxieties hoisted³⁵ upon them by a world seemingly³⁶ gone mad. There were no easy answers to quiet their apprehensions³⁷. How could I help them make sense out of senseless things and restore³⁸ security³⁹ to the small world of our classroom?

 

    My children, ever wise with the innocence of youth, had found the answer themselves. They got out their pencils, markers and palette⁴⁰ and made cards. Cards written with words of compassion⁴¹ and love for a mother and father they didn’t know. Cards that spoke of faith and the promise of peace. Cards adorned with ruby red hearts, golden crosses, spring flowers and rosy-cheeked angels. No grammar book, no lesson, could ever teach the beauty of the thoughts drawn and expressed by these children. Their cards, intended to comfort others, comforted the children themselves by leading them past the anxiety, back into the world of security that should be theirs.

 

    As I sit in my car inching⁴² through the fumes⁴³ of evening rush hour, I reflect on the strength of my students as they sought⁴⁴ to right their world in the one way that made sense to them. I find myself smiling in spite of⁴⁵ the heat, the traffic and the pile of ungraded tests. The rules of grammar might not have been learned today, but something bigger and better happened in my classroom. I just didn’t recognize it at the time.

     And then I remember. I remember why I’m still teaching. It’s the children. They’re more important than a lifetime filled with quiet evenings and more valuable than a pocket filled with money. The world of noise, pronouns, accent and homework is my world. My classroom, a child-filled world of discovery, of kindness and of caring is the real world. And I’m so lucky to be in it.

    The traffic clears and I move past the stoplight, into the shady streets of my neighborhood. I’m glad to be home. It’s time to call my friend and tell her I can’t meet her tonight. I have promises to keep. She’ll understand. After all, she’s a teacher, too.

_______________________________________________________________

1. tough [tʌf] adj. 艰难的

2. mystery [5mistEri] n. 神秘的事物

3. glazed [^leizd] adj. 呆滞无神的

4. at the mention of 提到

5. assignment [E5sainmEnt] n. (课外)作业

6. at recess (学校的)课间休息，多用于美国，相当于 at break。

7. soothe [su:T] vt. 使……情绪平静，安慰

8. found it hard to 发现……很难做。it 在这里为形式宾语，真正的宾语为后面的不定式短语。

9. linger [5liN^E] v. 逗留

10. file out 鱼贯而出，列队行进

11. car pool合伙用车：几个参与者或他们的孩子安排好合乘一辆车旅行，分担费用，轮流提供车辆，轮流驾车

12. temple [5templ] n. 太阳穴。它还有“庙、寺”的意思。

13. deliver [di5livE] vt. 陈述；发表(一篇演说等)

14. grade [^reid] vt. 评分；评级。它还可以用作名词，意为“年级”，如Grade Two 二年级。

15. a stack of 一堆
16. frustration [frQs5treiFEn] n. 挫败；挫折；受挫

17. rush hour (上下班)高峰时间

18. no matter how hard I try 不管我怎么努力。no matter how 引导让步状语从句，在这里相当于 however。

19. faculty meeting 全体教员大会

20. peek [pi:k] v. 偷看

21. remind [ri5maind] vt. 提醒；使想起

22. wearily [5wIErEli] adv. 疲倦地

23. tension [5tenFEn] n. 紧张(状态)；不安

24. lean [li:n] vi. 倚靠

25. melody [5melEdi] n. 悦耳的音调

26. crime [kraim] n. 犯罪行为

27. reveal [ri5vi:l] vt. 揭示；暴露

28. strained [streind] adj. 紧张的

29. invade [in5veid] vt. 侵略；侵袭

30. profound [prE5faund] adj. 深刻的，意义深远的

31. pray [prei] v. 祈祷

32. not only…but also… 不但……而且……。连接并列成分作主语时，谓语动词的数的决定采取就近原则。

33. tragic [5trAdVik] adj. 悲惨的

34. victim [5viktim] n. 受害人

35. hoist [hɔist] v. 提升；升起

36. seemingly [5si:mINlI] adv. 表面上地

37. apprehension [7Apri5henFEn] n. 理解；忧惧

38. restore [ris5tC:] vt. 恢复；使回复

39. security [si5kjuEriti] n. 安全

40. palette [5pAlit] n. 调色板；颜料

41. compassion [kEm5pAFEn] n. 同情；怜悯

42. inch [intʃ] v. 慢慢移动；渐进。它还可作名词，意为“英寸”。

43. fume [fju:m] n. (浓烈或难闻的)烟；气体

44. sought [sɔ:t] v. seek的过去式和过去分词。意为“探索；寻求”。

45. in spite of 不顾；不管

 

 

 

有孩子、有发现、有善良和关心的教室就是我的世界，我想起来我为什么还在教书。那是因为孩子们。他们比一个个安闲的夜晚，比一把把钞票更重要。吵闹、代词、重音、作业就是我的世界……

 

有约在身

                                                             ■ 飞言   编译

    我是老师。总有些时候，我感到迷惑，就像今天。今天是郁闷的一天。一场英文测验，我的学生，七年级的学生，考出来的结果，让我情绪低落。尽管我已经费尽心思，“代词”的世界对他们来说仍然是个谜。我多么希望有一种方法能够让英语的学习像电脑游戏一样令人振奋，那么他们眼中的渴望与专注就不会在我提到“语法”两个字时，瞬间暗淡。

    我本来打算在午餐时间考虑一下明天的课怎么上才能更精彩的。但是一个学生病了，我得在她等她母亲来接她的时候，亲自去收她的作业。结果花费的时间远远超出了我的预计——我没有时间吃午餐了。然后，课间休息时，一场争吵上演了。平息了孩子们的愤怒，抚慰了受伤的小心灵之后，我们终于回到教室。我们都在气头上，根本无法静下心来，回到翻开的课本上。

    饥饿让我的头如针刺一样的痛，直到最后一个孩子跨进了回家的车厢，这种难挨的痛还不肯离去。现在，我坐在公交车里，按着仍然作痛的太阳穴，丈夫的话像抑扬顿挫的演讲一样灌进我的耳朵，虽然已经时隔多日。“你为什么不放弃呢？你换个工作，或许还可以赚更多的钱啊，而且，你也不用天天晚上批改作业或试卷了。”

    这个下午，我开始考虑他说的话，似乎不无道理。是啊，今天晚上我又有一大叠试卷要批改，我答应了他们明天发下去的。今天晚上，一个近一年未曾见面的朋友从外地过来，我答应她今天晚上我有空的。

    车速变慢了，挫折感却越来越强了。我意识到现在正是下班高峰期。不管我怎么努力，我都不能使自己超越车流，离开我的教室。我的职业，一个充满了孩子的世界，需要那么多时间和精力。今天放学后，学校开了一次全体教员大会。许多事情要计划；许多问题要解决；许多意见要讨论；许多细节要记住。正当我觉得一天快要过完时，一个孩子的头在教室门口闪过，让我想起了我答应她帮她解决一个难题的。当我把她还给正在等待接她回家的母亲时，整个教学楼已经空空如也，我筋疲力尽地往车站走去。

    在这拥挤的车流里，很难停止对这一天的生活进行回放，再一次体味那种紧张。司机打开了收音机。收音机里播放的是一首我熟悉的歌。我闭上眼睛，靠在椅背上，希望这种舒适能减缓我的疲劳和头痛。但是，最后的音符被播出的新闻打断了：股价下跌了；犯罪率上升了；播音员为了印证一个遥远的国度生活的恐怖，让枪声响满了整个车厢；一个紧张的声音报告说失踪了好几个星期的本地少年的尸体终于被确认身份。我堵住耳朵，太多的真实占据了我的空间。

    那个丢失的孩子对我班上的学生产生了非常深刻的影响。每天早上当新闻广播她仍没有找回时，他们就讨论这条新闻，还祈祷她快点安全地回来。

    他们的关心和担心并不仅仅是对于失踪的她和她的家人，还有他们自己。毕竟，她是他们中的一员。孩子们相信如果他自己是安全的，他的邻居和同伴也是安全的。我的学生，比那个失踪的孩子仅仅小了不到一岁，他们在想：“既然这种事情可以发生在她的身上，那会不会发生在我的身上呢？”由于近乎疯狂的世界而引起的焦虑在他们心中升起，我试图寻找恰当的词来安抚他们，可是他们的想法却恰恰也是我的想法。我怎么样才能让他们排除外界的疯狂和焦躁，保持这个小小的教室的安全和宁静呢？

    我的孩子们，用他们年少的单纯和聪明，自己找到了答案。他们拿出他们的画笔、书签、调色板和颜料，做了许许多多的卡片。卡片写满了他们对不认识的爸爸妈妈的同情和爱，充满了对和平的信仰与承诺。卡片画满了红色的心、金色的十字架、春天的花朵和玫瑰色的天使。没有任何一本语法书，没有任何一堂课，可以教会孩子们画出如此美丽的思想。他们的卡片，本来是安慰别人的，却安抚了他们自己，做卡片的过程引导他们度过了不安的时刻，让他们找到了本属于他们自己的安全和宁静。

    现在当我处在拥挤的车流里，一寸一寸地在汽油味里前行时，我回想起今天课堂里发生的事。孩子们用自己的力量来试图纠正这个世界。尽管热浪袭人，尽管车辆堵塞，尽管桌上还有一堆不及格的试卷，我却发现我笑了。今天或许他们没有学会语法规则，但是一些更深刻的、更好的事情发生了。我只是当时没有意识到而已。

    然后我想起来了。我想起来我为什么还在教书。那是因为孩子们。他们比一个个安闲的夜晚更重要，比装满钞票的口袋更珍贵。吵闹、代词、重音、作业就是我的世界。有孩子、有发现、有善良和关心的教室就是我的世界。我很幸运拥有这样一个世界。

    车流终于通畅了。车驶过了红灯，终于进入了邻居家门口的街道，我到家了。现在到时候给我朋友打电话了，告诉她我今晚不能去见她了。因为我有约在身。她会理解我的，因为她也是一位老师。

                 

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