THE BOOK WAS CALLED I Want to Go to School by Yu-pao Gao, published by the People’s Publishing House of China. I was eleven years old when I got my hands on it. My mother said that the book changed me. It was true.
The story was an autobiographical account. When Yu-pao was nine years old he wanted to go to school but he couldn’t. His parents were peasants and deeply in debt. They depended on Yu-pao’s labour. The family farmed on rented land and was barely surviving. Every morning while cutting grass and picking up firewood Yu-pao watched his neighbouring friends go to school. He was filled with envy. Sometimes he would sneak into the local temple where the class took place, peek into the window and listen to the class hours on end on his tiptoes. When the class was over he would practise writing using a twig to write in the dirt. One day the class was taking a field trip up to a hill. Yu-pao took his sheep and followed the class at a distance. During a break, the teacher, Master Zhao, gave the children a spelling quiz. No student was able to come up with a correct answer. Yu-pao, forgetting where he was and who he was, yelled out the right answer. Master Zhao was surprised. He called Yu-pao over and began to talk with him.
That night Master Zhao visited Yu-pao’s parents and convinced them of the importance of education. When he promised to waive the tuition, the parents gave permission for their son to go to school. There was a paragraph which described the moment Yu-pao learned the news:
That morning Yu-pao didn’t have much spirit while working in the fields and he didn’t collect much firewood either. He was depressed. When he got home, he unloaded the hay and firewood and sat down on the door-sill to take his breath. His sister, Yu-rong, saw him and ran out of the house. She shouted happily, “Yu-pao, you are going to school tomorrow!” Startled, Yu-pao said, “You must be kidding!” “Why should I? Go and ask Dad yoursef!” Throwing aside his sickle and rope, Yu-pao got up and ran into the house. His mother was putting dinner on the bed—the bed at meal time was used as a table. Yu-pao hopped on the table and pulled his mother’s blouse, “Mom, please tell me Yu-rong is lying! Am I really going to school?” The bowl of porridge almost spilled over her hands. Mother said, smiling, “Look at you, do you have a manner of a good student?” “You all are kidding me!” “Nobody is kidding you. Come, Yu-pao, eat.” Still Yu-pao couldn’t believe his luck. He crowded over to his sick father, who was lying against the wall. “Dad, is it true?” “Yes, tomorrow, your mother will walk you to the school. Don’t you misbehave. You hear me?”
After the meal, Yu-pao again didn’t feel real about the news.
He took Yu-rong aside and insisted on her reporting the details. He wanted to know how Master Zhao’s visit went and how the parents were finally convinced. That afternoon Yu-pao went out and continued collecting firewood. He hummed songs, chased dogs into the fields and hens up to the roofs. He didn’t stop until he collected bundles of firewood that would last for weeks and he collected a dozen bird-eggs while he climbed the trees …
Yu-pao’s dream of going to school didn’t last. Master Zhao was ordered by the town boss, a predator of Yu-pao’s family debts, to remove Yu-pao. I remember breaking down each time I read the departing scene. By the end, Master Zhao told Yu-pao never to give up studying and Yu-pao took the advice to heart—he became a well-known author after the Liberation.
I Want to Go to School had such an impact on me that I realized how privileged I was to be going to school, although I had trouble. My classmates laughed at me for I couldn’t afford fine clothes. I wore clothes with melted sleeves and missing buttons and shoes with holes in the soles. Nevertheless, I reminded myself every day that I was going to school.