Joyce Wang

If you go to my middle school， you will find quite a strange sight—almost all the students （both boys and girls） have extremely short hair， baggy uniforms and thick glasses. This is because， according to the education department of our city， teenage years are not the time for looking pretty. As I entered an international high school， all my new friends asked me about my hair. Some thought that I went to a military school， others thought I was going for an androgynous1 style. Then， I dyed my hair blue. For the first time ever， I was not deemed shallow for caring about how I look. I felt free and beautiful. Standing on the crossroads of two hair aesthetics2， I was also experiencing the clash of two almost opposite school systems. Although the big gap in their principles did give me some hard time adapting， in the end， I feel very fortunate to have had the opportunity of integrating great values from both systems， and finally building a value system of my own.3

I have a typical background， in the sense that I am the only child in a family from a small city. I went to public schools， received standard education and followed rules that every other average Chinese student followed. A typical school day with a class size of 72 people lasted from 8AM until 6：30PM， with “optional”study hall after dinner. We were required to recite countless academic articles and theories， followed by mountains of homework that kept us up until after midnight every single day. People generally felt pressured not to pursue artistic or athletic interests outside of school because they were “too time consuming” and harmful for anyone who even “dreams of a brighter future in a bigger city.” In the last year of middle school， I gradually realized that I was not enjoying my learning experience as much as I should. Knowledge seemed to be a burden， not a source of joy. As someone who has a natural inclination for learning new things， I began to wonder whether this education is truly suitable for me.4

My new high school seemed at first to be the perfect solution to all of my problems. It is a multi-cultural community with students and faculty comprised of 100 nationalities. The school itself and the IB diploma5 are classic representations of a liberal Western education， offering many options for students to choose from and explore. The day I got my acceptance letter， I did not shed a single drop of tear—but I knew my life was about to change in very drastic6 ways and I was more ready than ever for the “happily ever after”.

However， my high hopes were not met. After switching to the international school system， for a while I found myself in a surprisingly similar dilemma7， which was and still is the biggest challenge I face in my education—the freedom to try new things. In the old system， I was strongly advised against trying new things because we were told to stick to what we were good at already—a logical fallacy， because how can one know what they are good at without trying it in the first place？8 However， in my new school， it worked the opposite way—we were strongly encouraged to try new things， be risk-takers and explore our possibilities. At first， it seemed so ideal. I finally had the chance to try things I had dreamed of before！ Little did I know that everything came with an opportunity cost9. As I was about to choose my classes at the start of the year， the idea of doing Philosophy intrigued10 me. It was a subject that didnt exist in my old school. Also， discussing different schools of thought and perspectives sounded very interesting and challenging. I thought that this was the kind of opportunity I came to this school for， so I took the course in Higher Level （which means more in-depth analysis， stricter assessment criteria and more class hours）， despite the fact that this was the course with a lowest ratio of Chinese students in my school. A few days into this course， I was already struggling—the English vocabulary that philosophers used was very difficult， and a lot of my peers seemed to be better acquainted with Philosophy. The heated discussions intimidated11 me and I barely spoke up in class.

It took me weeks of hard work to regain confidence and finally start to participate. My philosophy notebook was filled with questions to contemplate12 after each class. Finally， it paid off—the first paper that I wrote got an almost perfect score， and I was extremely happy for this achievement. On the other hand， for my friends who were a bit slower at adapting， Philosophy was a nightmare. They got unsatisfying grades， bad report comments， and when they tried to switch to another subject， they were told by the dean to “take responsibility for their risky choices.” His reactions really affected my opinion of the school. Now， when other interesting yet challenging classes or study programs are offered， I hesitate to take them and usually give them up in the end because of my fear to face the same situation my friends did. The teachers are not going to give me good grades just because I took on a challenge. The whole system seemed so self-contradictory： students are encouraged to try new opportunities， but if they fail， they are responsible because they put themselves in such risk. In the end， this seemingly liberating policy is just an illusionary choice， implicitly forcing students not to take challenging courses， which led to the same end result.13

Because of these experiences a question arose in my mind—is it a myth14 that international schools commonly seen as “education for rich spoiled kids”are better than Chinese school systems？ The answer is absolutely yes. In fact， both of the systems have taught me things which shaped me into who I am today. From my Chinese education， I learnt the importance of academics and hard work. By challenging myself academically， I was able to gain determination and persistence that helps me in my everyday life. From my international school education， I learnt that academics is not the only priority15 in life. I can also choose to spend my time socializing， exploring new things or practicing a musical instrument. It is so reassuring to hear teachers say that students are way more than a number grade. However， this is not the reason for me to give up on studying—the fact that academics is not the most important thing does not mean it does not have any value. Some weeks I would choose to do my math homework over going out for movies and dinner， because academics matters to me a lot. As time went by， I started to find my own balance. When my friends tell me to go easy on my test revisions or forget about that “useless” assignment， I remind myself of my roots and follow what my heart really says. It makes absolutely no sense that people are denouncing16 the traditional Chinese education so much because of the heavy study load—we are also learning more and at a much faster pace than the education I receive here in an international school. Although life could be stressful， it is no other than a different path of life instead of a way to “torture”17 the students.

On another note， as a Chinese person， I recognize the true underlying18 value of our traditional education system—equality. In a country with 20% of the worlds population， resources are scarce and opportunities are more than valuable. It is only fair that we use a tough education system to filter out those who are not as willing to work hard for their goals. There may be a lot of repetition， but that is the best way to measure hard work rather than simply intelligence （which can be a gift from nature）. Our harsh yet extremely just education system provides numerous opportunities for those who did not win the birth lottery to flourish in a way they could not have imagined before.19

In 2018， I organized a hair donation and fundraiser in my school， which sent donated hair along with money to an NGO in Shanghai where they make wigs for underprivileged cancer patients.20 For the purpose of donation and also support， I shaved my hair that finally grew as long as reaching my shoulders. In an international school， I have learnt that taking care of how I look is not a sin， and it also taught me that contributing however I can to my community and my society matters a lot more than my personal appearance to me. I came from having the same hairstyle to an eager self-expression. Now I am finally combining the two and taking up an initiative21 to show my community the values I stand for and hope to make a difference. I am tired of listening to other peoples often biased opinions and sick of complaining. None of the education systems in the world are perfect； they each have their flaws but we should always hold a positive attitude towards the opportunity to learn new things offered to us and make the most of what we have.

1. androgynous：雌雄同體的。

2. aesthetics： 美學，美的哲學。

3. 雖然適應這兩種教育制度的巨大差別對我來說非常難，但最終我感到非常幸運能有機會結(jié)合這兩個體系中好的部分，從而建立我自己的價值觀。

4. 作為一個天生喜歡學習新事物的人，我開始質(zhì)疑這種教育制度是否真的適合我。inclination：傾向，愛好。

5. IB diploma： 國際文憑。IB（International Baccalaureate）是一個極具水平的世界通用預科文憑。

6. drastic： 激烈的，猛烈的。

7. dilemma： 困境，進退兩難。

8. 在舊的體系中，我被強烈建議不要嘗試新事物，他們告訴我們要堅持我們已經(jīng)擅長的東西——但這是一種謬論，因為一個人怎么可能不去嘗試就知道自己擅長什么呢？ fallacy： 謬論，謬誤。

9. opportunity cost： 機會成本，指為從事某項活動而放棄另一項活動的機會，或利用一定資源獲得某種收入時所放棄的另一種收入。

10. intrigue： 激起……的興趣。

11. intimidate： 恐嚇，威脅。

12. contemplate： 冥思苦想，深思熟慮。

13. 最終，這一看似自由解放的政策只是一個選擇上的錯覺，潛在地導致學生們不去選修具有挑戰(zhàn)性的課程，最終導向的是和舊體系同樣的結(jié)果。illusionary：錯覺的，幻影的；implicitly： 含蓄地，暗中地。

14. myth： 錯誤的觀點。

15. priority： 優(yōu)先，優(yōu)先權。

16. denounce： 譴責。

17. torture： 折磨，拷問。

18. underlying： 潛在的，根本的。

19. 我們嚴酷而又極其公正的教育制度為那些沒有生于富貴的人提供了許多機會，使他們能夠以自己之前無法想象的方式茁壯成長。lottery： 趕巧的事，碰運氣的事（表示認為類似的情形不公平）。

20. fundraiser： 資金籌集活動；NGO： non-governmental organization，非政府組織；underprivileged： 社會地位低下的，弱勢的。

21. initiative： 主動權，首創(chuàng)精神。