I had decided I wasn’t going back to teach in China. Two years seemed like it was enough of the smog, the food, and unfamiliar culture. But in the days leading up to my departure, I saw how much that place, and more importantly it’s people meant to me:
Biking one Sunday afternoon, I greeted students as I rode, stopping for some and shouting out to others. I knew I would miss them once I left. I went to meet a student who had asked for a higher grade in my class. I told her I would not give her a better grade, but I was happy to meet with her to talk. As we chatted, more students joined us. I took a picture with Sunshine, a student I run into almost everyday. Each day, she’s been an unexpected joy to see, especially as I walked to tougher classes. I chatted with Happy–yes that’s the name his dad gave him–about the significance of ending his first year in college, and how he felt about the next three. Julis, who had just finished his soccer game, was all excited about the goal he scored–even though it was on his own team. The last students to come by were the students I was having dinner with that evening. They were the first students I felt comfortable with, and with whom I could talk about deeper, and more important things. I wished I had invited them over sooner. I knew I would regret cutting those conversations short…
Because of days like this I have decided to teach another year in China. I am not ready to give up on those conversations just yet. I’m not ready to say goodbye for what could be forever. That day will come–it’s probably coming soon–but not now. I’m going back to teach in China so I can ride my bike and greet the 600+ students I’ve met over the past two years. I’m going back so I can tell students I won’t give them free grades, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I’m going back so that I can have more laughs, jokes, card games, and conversations with the students I care for so much. I am both terrified and delighted to say, “I’m going back”.
