As a typical American teenager, I learned about and believed in the tenets of freedom, democracy, and the American Dream.  I felt that everyone should discover them as well.  So as the summer and my trip to China drew closer, I began formulating a plan to introduce these values to the students of China.

            Months before my expedition, I had already begun preparations: a proposal, a resume, lesson plans, and more.  It seemed as if nothing could go wrong.

After arriving in China, I immediately began contacting local schools, presenting them with my proposal.  To my surprise, every school rejected my ideas.  I was shocked—how could this be happening?  I had already created and run several successful activities back home—the Volunteer Service Group, the Tai Chi Club, the school Chemistry Olympiad team—so it couldn’t be a lack of experience. 

Desperately trying to understand how I failed, I collected suggestions from relatives.  Piecing together all the information I had gathered, I realized my mistake.  The cultural differences between our two countries were huge, yet somehow, I had forgotten to factor this into my plans.  In addition, I was in a rural area, which remained steadfast to its conservative beliefs.  Maybe they were worried about my changing the status quo, encouraging revolution to overthrow the government, or something even more nefarious.  To overcome these obstacles, I compiled a list of issues I needed to consider. With the help of my relatives, I carefully developed a new proposal to address these concerns.  Even so, the principals’ suspicions were still clearly evident and the next schools I contacted all refused me… except one.  That school granted me only one session, so I was more determined than ever to make it a success.  Filled with excitement, I threw myself into my work once again, devising a more effective plan for the meeting.  And the night of the meeting came…

A classroom full of students, staring expectantly up at me.  Using the strategies I had prepared, I quickly got the students involved.  They were truly interested, making insightful remarks and asking intelligent questions, such as:

“Can people actually criticize the government?”

“Do students really have the freedom to choose their classes?”

“How do you apply for American colleges?”

All too soon, the meeting drew to a close.  Disappointed, the students and I tried to stay longer, entreating the teachers for a couple more minutes, and a couple more after that.  When we finally had to leave, we parted reluctantly.  I returned home, feeling regretful that I would not be able to meet the students again… or so it seemed.

A couple days later, the school invited me back for additional meetings.  Thrilled, I eagerly jumped at their invitation and scheduled more sessions, as successful as the ones before.  During the last meeting, emotions ran high.  We all wanted to do something more, a collaborative effort to commemorate our time together and help the rural school, which suffered from a lack of resources.  Finally, we decided to build an English library. 

Returning to America, I immediately began working on this project.  I held several fundraising efforts to purchase books, shipping them back to the students in China.  This fulfilling, gratifying experience clearly proved that cultural differences and political disparities do not have to be barriers to cooperation among willing minds. 

Through this process, I realized that despite China’s political repression, the students harbored the same inherent beliefs and values as I did. I speculated that this might hold true in other countries as well; everyone may believe in basic American ideals, but politics, religion, and other factors stymie their open expression. One small opportunity could spark a deluge of support for freedom. Perhaps the key lies in the unanswered question: how do we unlock these restrictions to let our truest thoughts flow free?

微信ID：ivytrack

欢迎加入常春藤之路教育群 （扫码参加）

北美最大的教育微信群

[版权所有，如要转载， 不得更改或删去落款

本文原自常春藤之路（www.ivytrack.org)]