My childhood was limited by my family's economic conditions. "Extracurricular classes" were not popular at that time, and I didn't get "special treatment", but I still had an "interest" forced by my father-practicing calligraphy.
Today, my writing level is still in the sixth grade of primary school. Although compared with most people, many people may not be able to surpass me in writing seriously, in this fastest-paced and most informative Internet age, a person can work without writing a word a day.
In my daily work, except writing the contents and plans of the day in my notebook, I hardly start writing, which may also represent the reality of many people today.
In other words, if you don't practice deliberately, you can't improve your writing level by taking dozens of notes every day. However, our generation (post-80s generation) has never heard of quality education in kindergartens, primary schools and middle schools, but after entering middle schools, all the writing is to get higher scores.
Even the teacher's requirements are simple. It is enough for you to read your font clearly. As for your writing, no matter how good it is, it can only have a slight advantage in the "neat score" of the composition, and the rest are useless.
This is why I said that my writing is still at the primary school level.
My father forced me to practice calligraphy since the second grade of primary school.
Father himself likes to practice calligraphy, and of course he writes well. At that time, I often heard my father say: words are like people, and the words written can represent what kind of people you are; Although a well-written person may not have a beautiful face, a graffiti person is certainly not much better than his own image.
It is my father's so-called "benefit" of practicing calligraphy, which also makes me have to practice calligraphy since I was a child.
At first, I was disgusted with practicing calligraphy. A playful and lively boy asked him to sit on a bench during the holiday, sitting at his desk with a pen filled with sky blue or black, and copying the copybooks one by one.
During the period, due to the hot summer weather in the north, 100% attention was absorbed when practicing calligraphy. Many times, my thin vest will be soaked with sweat, and even the palm with a pen will always have sweat sticking to it. From time to time, you should put down your pen, blow it with your mouth or throw it hard before you can continue to practice calligraphy.
At the beginning, in order to save paper, my father often took a cheap exercise book and drew Fang Gezi on it himself, and then asked me to practice according to Pang Zhonghua's hard pen copy. .
Later, I made a transition to using a separately printed "Mi Zige" exercise book, and there were many copybooks left by my father's calligraphy practice at home.
In my whole reading career, I was praised by my teacher several times, which is unforgettable. Once in sixth grade, once in third grade and twice in high school.
The praise of the primary school this time is because of the income from practicing calligraphy.
I don't remember which season it was, but I remember it was a sunny morning. The specific time was the last two classes in the morning (usually four classes in the morning, two Chinese classes or math English classes), which happened to be taught by our grade head teacher (two classes)-Chinese class teacher Zhang.
After his class that day, there was still nearly a whole class, and we felt that we had to arrange self-study again. Unexpectedly, Mr. Zhang said that he would start practicing calligraphy in the next few days, starting today.
In fact, the arrangement that the class teacher asked to practice calligraphy that day was not put forward. As early as the beginning of the sixth grade, Mr. Zhang gave everyone a calligraphy book, which was similar to what my father bought at home, and explained that calligraphy teaching and examination were expected to be arranged separately this semester.
So when the students heard Mr. Zhang's request, they all dug out the calligraphy books that had been kept for a long time from their desks. Then Mr. Zhang took out the Chinese book and asked the students to extract one from the book and practice calligraphy.
I really can't remember what articles I wrote at that time, or even what words I wrote. But the next scene is an unforgettable memory of my life.
When all the students began to write in their exercise books, Mr. Zhang sat at the teacher's desk as usual, with a big newspaper in his hand and a pair of reading glasses, carefully browsing the news in the newspaper and occasionally raising his head slightly.
The reading glasses under the bridge of the nose just didn't block his sharp eyes. On the contrary, because he looked up slightly and his eyes were upturned, his whole face did not move much. At first glance, he kept a posture. In fact, everything under the stage is in his hands. His sharp eyes are like a radar scanner, monitoring every move in the classroom.
After a while, perhaps tired of reading, Mr. Zhang got up and stepped down, and began to "patrol" the whole classroom, bending down from time to time to watch the students practice calligraphy.
When he slowly turned to my desk, he took back the steps he had to take. I can't see his expression, but I feel that Mr. Zhang has been standing behind me, with a pair of burning eyes staring at my desktop, and a smell of "killing" is constantly coming from him.
Mr. Zhang is an old teacher in his fifties. Because of his age, the hair on his head, in his own words, is "one side is in trouble, and all sides support it."
Although he usually smiles, once he gets serious in class, he is very serious and terrible. Moreover, he has his own stick education law, and students who are disobedient, late and have problems will inevitably have "skin pain". Almost half the students in the class have been cleaned up by him, even some "problem girls".
At that time, I was sitting on a stool, constantly feeling the pressure from behind. It is more appropriate to describe the feeling at that time with "on pins and needles". Even the hand holding the pen and writing is gradually sweating slightly.
Suddenly, Mr. Zhang said, "Remember Dongfeng, wait a minute, let me see your handwriting." I "hmm" all my life, so I quickly put down my pen, picked up a calligraphy book that had already written two or three pages, and handed it to Teacher Zhang.
He took out his reading glasses with one hand, and raised my notebook with the other. His arm was straight, and his eyes were unusually large under the refraction of reading glasses. The locked eyes felt like "Sherlock Holmes" found clues at the scene of the case, staring at the notebook tightly, and even his breathing seemed to disappear. ...
"Did you write all this yourself?"
"Well, yes!"
"yes! Well written! Have you practiced at ordinary times? "
Then I faltered and simply said that my father was forced to practice calligraphy.
Teacher Zhang looked at me with a very incredible expression and then at the calligraphy book. Then, to everyone's surprise, he raised his calligraphy book and said loudly to the classroom:
"The classmates, see yi dongfeng's handwriting. I think he is the best in the class! He also takes the initiative to practice calligraphy at home, and all the students here should learn from him! "
In the face of this sudden praise, I haven't recovered for a long time, but when my classmates turned their heads and focused on me, the whole person suddenly got carried away, which I have never experienced before. Looking at dozens of pairs of surprised and envious eyes of my classmates, I was at a loss and forgot to say "thank you" to the teacher. ...
I can't remember what happened afterwards. Up to now, the memory of that class will always stay on the picture of the teacher holding up the calligraphy book.
To be exact, this is the first time I have been so "grand" praised in front of outsiders since I was a child, and it is also a formal praise this time, which makes me begin to understand two life truths:
1 People need pressure. Generally speaking, "people are forced out." Often when you are in adversity or feel uncomfortable, it is precisely when you grow up.
Persistence is not necessarily successful, and giving up is bound to fail. Although being praised can't completely change anything, from the small matter of insisting on practicing calligraphy, I understand that many things will change qualitatively when they accumulate to a certain extent.