Disappeared on the way to school

“Little baby lang, carrying a bag to school. Not afraid of the sun, not afraid of the wind and rain crazy; I’m afraid my husband said that I am lazy. I have no face to meet my parents without knowledge. ”

The children’s song of 30 years ago suddenly woke up when I passed a primary school.

At 4: 30 p.m., the small street that was empty just now, like a life buoy inflated rapidly, was filled with all kinds of private cars and eager parents.

When the gate was opened, the little people filed out and the adults rushed in. In an instant, countless nicknames blossomed like cicadas singing, forming a hot cloud in the air. This exciting scene can only be described as “lost and found”.

At this moment, the song suddenly jumped out of memory, word for word.

I felt as if I had been slapped on the shoulder by something, and it played in my ear.

This children’s song called “Reader” accompanied me throughout my childhood and the red scarf season. At that time, it was almost my throat accompaniment, or mind music, on my way to school every day. There is a reason for this preference: it is not as “positive” as other songs. studying is not for “the four modernizations” or “successors to the revolution”, but for “sir” and “parents” … I feel fresh and inexplicably kind. When humming, I feel that I am the son of inside. Even think, if the teacher become “Sir”. Where is it? I don’t know.

That evening, when it suddenly played, I felt a schoolbag climbing up my back. I couldn’t help it, but I had the idea of jumping up and down …

Once upon a time, children on their way to or from school were a group of unruly sparrows.

No one to escort, no one to escort, twittering, cheerful, play through, play hungry and then go home.

Looking back, the greatest happiness of childhood is on the road, especially after school.

It’s a big stage with a variety of different styles and styles. It’s an incubator for faces, languages, accents, looks and stories. It’s the first step for a child to enter the world alone. It’s an open-air classroom for his spiritual development and a Lessons of the Playground for his life experience. Almost all the interesting and interesting stories of my childhood were met on the way from school. It is the most imaginable and expectant space, full of novelty and strangeness, and full of unknown possibilities every day. My composition inside’s “a meaningful thing” that is true or false is staged in it. Every alley and corner, every stray dog and wall cat, the bakery, tailor’s shop, bamboo ware shop, small mill, the small stove with tin pots, the shouting of selling Sugar-Coated Berry, the smell of popcorn, the clank of cotton bow, the sweetest apricot from the wall, the new bird nest built on the tree … will contact me at some time.

This is the most fertile soil for growth.

It is hard to imagine that if the page number “on the way to school” is removed, what about childhood Que Reste-t-il…?

As far as I am concerned, there is nothing left. I can’t even write a diary.

That evening, I suddenly felt sorry for the children in front of me-they would no longer have “on the way to school”.

They were packed into luxury cages and returned home directly, like valuable luggage.

Why do you lose “on the way to school”?

In my opinion, apart from the fact that the expansion of the city has made the journey far away and beyond my power, what is more important is that the “journey” has changed, and this road is no longer another one. Specifically, the disappearance of the “traditional block”-along the warm and interesting road, the space full of details and nourishing footsteps has disappeared.

What is a traditional block? What is it like?

“The city should be a small street for children to play in, a snack shop around the corner until midnight, a row of locksmiths and shoemakers, and a white-haired old woman peering out of the window on the second floor … the street should be short and corners should be easy to appear.” This is what Jane Jacobs said in “The Death and Life of Big American Cities”. I think it is the most vivid description of traditional streets.

Such streets are full of life, rich in information, and full of stories. They can provide the fullest pleasure, the most thoughtful service and nutrients for the growth of childhood. Moreover, they are safe and reassuring to parents and educators. Why is the accident risk of children in safe deposit boxes in inside higher than in the free-range era? Jacobs recalled an afternoon many years ago in this great book inside-

“Looking from the window on the second floor, what is happening in the street caught her attention: a man tried to let an 89-year-old girl go with him, while trying to coax him, he pretended to be ferocious. The little girl leaned against the wall and was very stubborn, just like when the child resisted … I was thinking about how to intervene, but soon found it unnecessary. A woman came out of the butcher’s shop in inside, standing not far from the man, with her arms folded and her face firmly fixed. At the same time, Cornacchia and his son-in-law in the nearby store also came out and stood firmly on the other side … locksmiths, fruit shop owners and laundries all came out, and many windows were opened upstairs. The man did not notice this, but he was surrounded and no one would let him take the little girl away … as a result, everyone felt sorry that the little girl was the man’s daughter. ”

This is the energy and meaning of the old street, and this is its magic and beauty.

Under the surface of loose and messy, it has an invisible comb order and maintenance system, with which life is warm, stable and kind. It does not search much for other people’s privacy, but when doubts and crises arise, all eyes are suddenly opened and all steps will arrive in time.

In fact, this is very much like a Chinese word, an ecological keyword: “neighborhood”.

Under such a background, should a child be worried about going to or from school alone?

Freedom originates from safety and trust. If the whole community gives people the kindness and familiarity of “home”, no matter how the child shuttles and wanders, the result will be a happy and fruitful return home. And all the interludes on the road, including those naughty, adventurous and out of line scolded, are gifts given to him by the world and are rewards and caresses for growth.

According to Jacobs, the most profound relationship between urban people is “nothing more than sharing a geographical location.” She opposes taking only public facilities and housing as indicators to measure life. She believes that an ideal community should enrich the communication between people and promote the breeding of public relations, instead of cutting off life piece by piece, sealing off and breaking away in the name of “independence” and “private”.

This perspective is of great spiritual significance to mankind. Following her train of thought, you will soon find that the “home” and “hometown”-these location words full of body temperature and feelings, all of which are based on a good interpersonal relationship, familiar neighborhood contents, and a secure common life … the so-called “home” is not a simple physical space, but a spiritual concept in conjunction with the location, representing a group of people’s collective identification and mutual dependence on the place of life.

There is no “hometown” for a simple individual and no “home” for a simple portal.

Just like water, a lonely drop can’t form the meaning of “water”, it can only be called “liquid”.

I feel more and more that children nowadays, especially in Greater Downtown, are facing a danger: losing their spiritual places of “home” and “hometown”.

There is a friend whose son moved to another home when he was 6 years old and moved to another home when he was 10 years old for the simple reason that he bought a bigger house. I asked, does my son still remember his old home? Have you taken it back? Did he ask for it? No, my friend shook his head. He is just like staying in a hotel. He can go anywhere. He neither loves the old nor likes the new. I understand that the children are indifferent to the transfer of “home”. There is no touching feeling and no need for ceremony and handover.

Do you want the former children? I asked. No, there are children everywhere, and children everywhere are the same. Perhaps in his son’s eyes, children are a kind of “phenomenon”, a kind of “supporting facilities”, a shadow that moves with you in the sunlight, an anonymous shadow, not one who, another who … friend said awkwardly.

I am speechless. This is a generation that does not have a “small” generation, a generation that does not live in old streets, and a generation that does not have neighborhoods and old homes. They will keep moving, but not “moving.” “Moving” means the movement of memory and emotional place, the farewell of friends and the refreshing of the crowd, while they only move from one physical space to another with the change of parents’ wealth. The city is a huge commodity, and the residence is also a commodity, all of which are objects, only objects. Children just ride around on this object.

I asked a junior high school Chinese teacher, she said that the current composition topic rarely involves “hometown”, because children will be at a loss and at a loss.

Yes, can you make Beijing your hometown? Can you regard Chaoyang, Haidian or a commercial housing estate as your hometown? You will find that you are not familiar with it at all, have never had deep feelings and behaviors in this place, and have never had any important spiritual connection with the people in this place.

Oh, My Hometown is not an address, not the kind written on envelopes and mail. Hometown is a life history, a life file with body temperature, fingerprints and footprints-old objects, details, various Ichulsu Omnym Saram and events.

Still the same friend above, I once suggested: why not have a party to reunite my son with his former colleagues in the same courtyard and take a picture or something? This is helpful for children’s growth. It can make a child aware of his own growth from the changed other party. The friend was shocked and smiled shyly. In fact, his son only knew Sort My Tiles Kids Next Door, and he didn’t recognize all the toys on the same floor. Occasionally, he would think of a lost or damaged toy, rarely related to people. His happiness was given by game consoles, cartoons and piles of toys. It’s my turn to laugh at myself, what an inappropriate romance!

There is a cutting power in this era, which cuts life into individual rooms: adults and pets together, children and toys together. I used to rent in a residential area for 4 years and walked through it everyday, but I knew nothing about it. The day I moved away, I was a little lost. I wanted to say goodbye and say something, but I couldn’t think of who that person was.

That day, I suddenly received a text message: “Wang Kailing, your mother told you to go home for dinner.”

I froze, thinking it was a prank. But soon, I became affectionate with it. Thirty years ago, similar calls sounded countless times in the evenings, drifting across alleys and into my hiding ear, inside.

In traditional old streets, a playful child is wanted like this every day. Apart from the voice of his parents, Neighborhood and his friends will also help to shout.

Moved, I changed the subject of this text message to the names of my friends and sent it out. Of course, I only chose the generation with the same age and old street childhood.

Later, it was discovered that this text message originated from a famous network incident. One day, someone sent a post: “Jia Junpeng, your mother told you to go home for dinner.” In just a few days, hundreds of thousands of posters were posted, and everyone urged the disobedient child to go home quickly in their own voices. Don’t let mother wait, don’t let the food get cold, and don’t get scolded or beaten.

At the top of one’s voice, someone debunked the mystery. The great name resounding through China was virtual and was carefully planned by a website. I am not depressed at all, even moved by The Conspirators’s meticulous feelings.

One Jia Junpeng was silent, and ten million Jia Junpeng answered.

We all pricked up our ears and listened to the dandelion-like sound coming from afar …

Katinkas Kalas, your mother told you to go home for dinner.

I secretly rejoice for my childhood. If the generation in Jia Junpeng can be called outdoor childhood, wilderness childhood and old street childhood, then today’s children are greenhouse childhood, club childhood and toy childhood.

Faced with modern streets and roads, parents dare not hand over their children easily and do not allow any mistakes in childhood.

Like a kite, it is pulled down from the sky, cut off the rope and hung on the wall.

Don’t worry about being blown away by the wind and being caught by trees. Wings have become legends and memorials.

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