All For Our Students

My name is Simon Collins. I am the homeroom teacher of senior high school Class 7 at City No. 3 High School, and I also serve as the math teacher for this class. The bright red countdown clock in the top right corner of the blackboard was eye-catching—exactly eight months remained until the college entrance examination. Every day when I walk into the classroom, the steadily declining numbers remind both myself and the students that time has become so urgent that not a moment of slackness can be allowed. As the homeroom teacher, I want more than anyone for the students to achieve good results in this crucial examination and be admitted to their desired university. After much consideration, I felt the time after evening self-study should not be wasted, so I decided to add an extra practice drill class. This way, students can master more problem-solving skills and gain more practical experience; after all, every point in the college entrance examination may determine their future path. I truly believed this was a well-intentioned measure for the students, but I never imagined this decision would become the spark that ignited a conflict. That night, I was in the office grading a mountain of math homework when my phone suddenly dinged, the notification sound from the class group chat. I put down my red pen and casually opened it; a long message instantly filled the screen: "Teacher Collins, you are treating the children like college entrance examination machines!" The message was from Mindy Young, mother of the student Leo Carter. That message was like a stone tossed into a calm lake—the class group chat immediately erupted. "That's right. My son Henry Wilson stays up until one or two in the morning every day, and the next day at school, he is yawning constantly, utterly exhausted. His learning condition is deteriorating more and more!" Henry Wilson's father quickly voiced his concerns, his words full of deep sympathy. "We strongly demand an immediate halt to this intense practice drill routine and a return to a healthy learning environment for our children!" Tina Lee's mother immediately echoed him, her tone unwavering. "If the school does not promptly address this matter, we will file a formal complaint with the Education Department!" Mindy Young sent another message, her tone firm and unyielding. In just one hour, over twenty parents in the group had signed a joint petition, unanimously demanding the cancellation of the evening self-study practice drills. Some parents even attached photos of their children staying up late studying, accompanied by heartfelt words, which only intensified the emotions in the group chat. The news spread swiftly, soon reaching the principal's office. Early the next morning, Principal Wilson summoned me. "Simon Collins, your arrangements this time are indeed somewhat inappropriate." Principal Wilson sat on the sofa, his brow tightly furrowed, his fingers unconsciously tapping lightly on the desk, producing a dull sound. I stood in front of the desk, not daring to reply, waiting for him to continue. "The parents are extremely emotional right now. Some have even taken this matter online, with many netizens accusing our school of exploiting the students. The public sentiment online is very unfavorable to us." Helplessness filled Principal Wilson's tone. My fists clenched tightly without my realizing it; my nails nearly digging into my palms. "Principal, I truly want the students to learn more. The competition for the college entrance examination is so intense; every extra practice question means one more point of confidence." "I understand your good intentions, but the situation is unusual right now." Principal Wilson sighed, "To ease the tension and prevent further issues, you should temporarily yield to the parents' demands." I remained silent for a long while; only the ticking of the clock echoed in the office. In the end, I slowly nodded and said, "Alright, I understand." Stepping out of the principal's office, the sunlight outside was glaring, making it hard for me to keep my eyes open. Since they insist on "reducing the academic burden," I will give them a thorough lesson—so they can truly understand the consequences of such an approach. Perhaps only by experiencing this will they realize what is genuinely best for the children.