Dr. Liu said, “When you encounter a problem, do you know what is on your students’ mind? Have you listened to your students?” When I heard her questions, my heart squealed.  Did I listen to my students?  Do I know what's on my students’ mind, and what they want to do?  A series of questions flooded into my mind.  After teaching for more than twenty years, I have always thought that I love my students and I know them.  I know what they want to do.  But do I really know?  When Dr. Liu asked: do you know what students call you when they don’t see you? At that moment, I don’t think I know.  For a long time, I have communicated with them as an authoritative figure, and guided from an adult's perspective.  There is an unequal power dynamic between us.  I always impose my thoughts and willingness on them, and never sincerely listened to what they thought or what they really wanted to do.  At the end of the workshop, when I reflected on my past experience, I felt deeply disturbed.  Do I still have time to listen to what my students think and what they want to do? (A junior high school teacher from Mengzi, Yunnan)

Our group designed a play based on a special child in my class.  I offered to play this special child because I knew his circumstances very well and I wanted to show it to other teachers.  At the very beginning, I was a little nervous.  But, as we progressed, I began to relate to the child's feelings, especially when his parents argued in front of him, and I could feel his anxiety and panic.  The teacher who played the child's mother threw a punch at me, and although the swing was not particularly realistic, I instinctively raised my arm to block it, and at that moment I understood his fear.  I felt as if the child had fallen into a dark abyss, surrounded by fear.  I wanted to cry.  Before I always felt that I understood him, but understanding and experiencing is not the same.  As teachers, we need a little more chances to feel.  This child once said to me: “I want to draw a black sun and give it you, and make you sad every day.”  For a long time, his words hurt a little, whenever I thought of them.  But after this role-play, that feeling disappeared.  I understood him and forgave him.  Although this was only an experiment, I did gain some new experience from this experiential activity.  This kind of insight, which is different from reading and discussion, plays an irreplaceable role in re-thinking our own teaching.  Lively people, say lively words, do things that last for a long time. (A primary school teacher from Changsha, Hunan)  

In the interactive relationship, we will be able to find out how and why educational practice actually occurs.  It is a process of life and generation of human inner-self.  It is also a process in which the vision of educator is shaped by the inner depth of life. The enlightenment from this path about the inner growth of teachers is related to the enlightenment of "education is memory" which we discuss in the philosophy of education.  Even if the participants did not learn profound theories, they still gain a profound educational understanding, because their understanding is not based on one thought, but from the inherent nature of life and “self-sufficient” characteristics. [......] I think instead of calling it knowledge, it is a belief in the development of human beings.  This belief run through ancient and modern times, even among the most humble, helpless, vulnerable, and most complex groups of people. When educators are deeply in the process of self-sacrifice, and humbly observing and pondering, those eternal revelations of life will show themselves. (A professor from a normal university in Changsha, Hunan)