At first, we assumed the disruption would last a week or two.
Then another week was added.
And another.
Before long, it became clear that we were facing something far more serious than a temporary interruption to the school calendar.
What began as a local health emergency developed into a global pandemic.
Teachers began asking the obvious questions.
“When are we going back to work?”
“What happens to our salaries?”
“How are we supposed to support ourselves?”
The training centre had an online teaching platform, and teachers were invited to participate.
I was among the first to volunteer.
However, when the time came to sign the agreement, the conditions differed from those initially presented.
The arrangement would have tied us to the online platform as a separate entity.
I wasn’t comfortable with that.
So I declined.
For the next couple of months, I refused to participate.
Then I heard something that changed my mind.
Two of my students were struggling to engage with other teachers.
They wanted me.
One of them was a particularly bright but painfully shy little girl.
I knew her well.
And I knew how difficult she found it to express herself.
Eventually, I agreed to teach online.
During those sessions, something remarkable began to happen.
The little girl’s confidence grew.
She started participating more readily and expressing herself with greater freedom.
When we finally returned to face-to-face classes, I barely recognized the student standing before me.
She was still the same child, of course.
But the fear and hesitation I’d previously observed seemed much less pronounced.
She was more confident, more expressive, and more willing to participate.
I couldn’t know exactly which factors had contributed to her development.
Perhaps the online environment had felt less intimidating.
Perhaps familiarity had helped.
Perhaps our established relationship had given her the confidence she needed.
Whatever the explanation, the experience taught me something important.
The relationship between a teacher and a student can influence how comfortable that student feels about learning.
And children don’t always tell us how they feel.
Sometimes, we have to notice.
Looking back, this was one of my earliest meaningful encounters with the importance of responding to individual learning needs.
Meanwhile, another part of my brain was becoming increasingly restless.
Before becoming a teacher, I’d worked with data analysis.
And the analyst in me was beginning to see troubling patterns.
The prolonged disruption, combined with some earlier observations, suggested that the training-centre business model could face significant financial pressure.
I couldn’t predict exactly what would happen.
But I could recognize the risks.
So, I decided to swim before the boat sank.
I began looking for another job.
And, despite the ongoing pandemic, I found one.
In Xinyang, Henan Province.