Teacher's Day in Tianjin

I teach on the fourth floor of a four-story building. After my classes ended on a regular Wednesday, I was walked down the main staircase toward a large group of students. 

I didn’t think anything of the packed first floor lobby, until the 40-some students burst into applause. 

I was bum rushed by someone with a bouquet of lilies. A wall of teenage girls were flashing cameras and yelling “Chieza!” (the Chinese version of “say cheese”). Confused, flustered and clueless on how to gracefully behave, I finally got an answer to my internal question of ‘What the hell is going on?’

“Happy Teacher’s Day!” the students all yelled.

Teacher’s Day in China, celebrated every Sept. 10, is an official working-holiday to show appreciation and respect for educators. This year, the 24th anniversary of Teacher’s Day, President Hu Jintao traveled to a school for deaf students in Henan Province. Premiere Wen Jiabao dined with eight teachers in Zhongnanhai and told them, “Teaching is the most splendid profession under the sun.” Both stories made front page news (click on links for stories).

The reason for all the pomp and flattery is out of historical respect for teachers. Confucius, the father of all teachers, taught more than 3,000 students in spite of the turbulent Spring and Autumn period. During these times, Confucius traveled the warring states promoting peace by teaching the merits of a moral life and rewriting the ancient texts. 

These rewritten texts form the foundation of Chinese civilization. 

There’s definitely an air of reverence in my students’ rapt attention. They stand to answer in-class questions. When I speak rapid-fire American English, my students apologize for not being smart enough to keep up.

I read that Teacher’s Day originally fell on Confucius’ birthday, but was moved later to fit the government’s holiday schedule. In America, this would be the death of a holiday. Within four years, even the flower shops would forget to advertise for it.

But in China, gratitude for and pride in teaching is obvious. When I was struggling to open my apartment door that day because of the two cases of mooncakes and carnations my students gave me, I didn’t mind that I feeling like I’m Anna in "The King and I."