为方便读者的阅读，《立场—教育对话》网刊现于2009年1月搬迁至新的网站，并使用新的电子信箱接收来函来稿。特此通知，请大家注意，并代为宣传、转告为谢。具体信息如下。

Please be informed that the website and the contact email of the online journal, Positions: Dialogues on Education, has been move to the following new addresses as of January 2009.

Thank you for your attention!

《立场—教育对话》新网站主页

New Website Address:

www.lichang.org

新的电子信箱地址

New Contact Email:

info@lichang.org

目 录

i 刊首语

1 速度还是质量：乡村课堂的文化冲突 (英文) 王丹

22 教师的游戏观与儿童的自由

—- 城乡幼儿教育比较中的启示 车艺 鄢超云

30 民工子弟学校教师—等不到花开的园丁 马丽

34 有关日本教育改革的现场报告 平馆英明 王宗瑜 译

47 苏霍姆林斯基教育思想专题征稿启事

（征稿延期至2008年12月31日）

49 本刊征稿启事

Table of Contents

i Preface

1 Speed or Quality: The Clash of Cultures in Rural Classrooms (English)

WANG Dan

22 Teachers’ Views on Play and Children’s Freedom

– A Comparative Study of Rural and Urban Kindergartens

CHE Yi, YAN Chaoyun

30 Teachers of Migrant Schools: Gardeners Who Never Get to See the Flowers Bloom

MA Li

34 Field Reports about Japanese Educational

HIRATATE Hideaki

Translated by WANG Zongyu

47 Call for Papers: A Special Topic on Educational Thoughts of V. A. Sukhomlinskii (Submission Deadline extended to 12/31/08)

49 Positions: Dialogues on Education Call for Submissions

刊首语

本期收录了两组稿件。一组文章介绍了2003年日本教育改革广岛试验对教师的一些影响，考虑到读者有可能对日本国情不熟悉，我们在文章前面特意加注了编者按，所以这里不再重复。另一组的三篇文章则围绕农村孩子的教育展开。王丹的田野调查从乡村教师的视角又一次确认了正规学校教育与乡村生活方式之间的矛盾。她没有急于在文化冲突与教育不平等之间划等号，而是在教师的课堂活动和学校的课程安排中耐心地追索文化资本的差异是由于哪些机制而转变为教学效果的差距。车艺和鄢超云的论文以一所乡村幼儿园的日常安排为引子，对比城乡教师的游戏观，从幼儿最平常的游戏活动追问现代教育对人的控制。其中援引的教师们的评论，例如幼儿园与小学是性质截然不同的教育机构，幼儿应以游戏为主，小学应以教学为主等，从侧面揭示出一些有趣的教育观念，启人深思。马丽的田野手记把我们的视线转移到城市的民工学校。她描述了城市民工学校的教师面临的现实困难，从而把民工子弟的教育问题从道德层面的讨论引向了具体的制度困境。

虽然三篇文章的角度各不相同，但共通之处是作者们进入到学校和教学活动的内部，从教学活动最琐碎细节处反思教育政策和制度安排，进一步质疑隐藏在这些制度安排背后的观念和思维方式。读者当然不必要认同作者们的立场和分析，但是文中对于教师、学生、家长和具体事件不同程度的描写，或多或少地再现了研究和观察的现场，为读者形成自己的解读敞开了一定的空间。这也是我们收录这几篇文章的用意之一。

《立场》自年首诞生以来已近一年。过去的近一年中，《立场》得到了许多教师、教育研究者和其他人文社会科学的学生学者的热情支持，来信、投稿、建议或者只言片语的回馈，对我们都是莫大的鼓励。

创刊之初，我们已经预料到经营一份不知名的杂志会面临的艰难。最大的难题自然莫过于缺乏稿源。当时，我们也半真半假地说过，有稿件一年四期，稿源不足则两期三期亦可。没想到，戏言成真。本期杂志即为三四两季合刊。

另外，为扩大受众，我们承诺接收中、英、日三种语言的稿件。然而，实际操作中，选择刊发原文或者译文却并不那么容易，这里既有读者群也有工作量的考虑。本期首次刊发英文原文稿件，效果如何，是否应该翻译，我们也很难决断。希望读者给我们提供反馈意见，帮助我们改进编辑工作。

《立场》不只属于我们，更属于各位关心教育、关心中国的读者和作者。对于各位师友的爱护和支持，我们只能以更加勤勉的工作来作为答谢，为不同声音不同话语的交流，提供并坚守一个小小的开放的空间。我们真诚地邀请大家继续来函来稿，加入到对教育、对中国社会和对世界的思考和对话中来。

《立场》编辑小组

2008年10月

Speed or Quality: The Clash of Cultures in Rural Classrooms

速度还是质量：乡村课堂的文化冲突

Dan Wang 王 丹

提要：本文是教育民族志《去政治化的工作空间 — 乡村教师的日常工作》中的一章。该研究考察了中国西南山区一所乡级小学—朝阳小学—的教师们的工作状况。这是一所“戴帽初中”，学校包含小学至处中九个年级。

本章分析的焦点是乡村教师们在实施“新课标”的过程中所遭遇的困境以及造成这一困境的结症所在。以“新课标”为指导的教材和教学组织方式对学生的学习自主性要求更高，而学习自主性的培养必须以扎实的读写算技能为基础，扎实的读写算技能的形成又必须依赖一套严格的学习习惯。一些最普通的学习习惯，如上课带纸笔、记笔记、保护课本、有条理地保存笔记和文具等，也许在城镇家庭教育中被视为理所当然。然而农村家庭由于受教育程度底，学校也没有着重强调学习习惯，导致绝大部分朝阳小学的儿童从小学一年级开始就落后于同级平均水平。随着年级升高，差距不但无法缩小，反而不断加大。原因显而易见。每一个学期、每一个年级、每一门学科都有固定量的教学任务，这是由教材和上级考核指标所限制的。教师为完成教学总量，不得不保持一定的教学进度，没有更多的时间为大批的掉队学生补习以前缺欠的基础。由于学生缺乏自学习惯和基本技能，初中年级的教师不得不在课堂上花大量时间清扫生字词句或回顾小学三四年级的数学公式，学生也没有能力进行有意义的课堂参与。某些科目硬要让学生课堂自主学习，无异于稀释教学质量。教师们在每一堂课上都在面临进度与质量之间的矛盾、平衡和抉择。

我认为，“新课标”之不适合农村教学，并不是教学内容对于乡村儿童的生疏，而在于教学量与进度超过了农村学生的平均接受能力。矛盾的根本是：当前的学校教学活动是以脑力劳动的生活方式为前提，而以体力劳动为主的农村家庭文化很难让儿童从小形成适合学校教学的性格和习惯，以至于乡村儿童从小学一年级就跟不上学校的教学进度，差距逐年加大，到高年级已积重难返。如果农村父母无法培养孩子正确的学习习惯，那么学习习惯的培养便应该正式纳入乡村学校教育的教学内容，分配单独的时间。这意味着农村学生在低年级需要比城镇学生更多的时间去形成正确的学习习惯和巩固基础知识。除非延长整个农村基础教育阶段的学习年限，否则该阶段的知识量和进度都有向下调整的必要。由于目前农村教学的瓶颈是学生的读写算基础技能，那么，农村教育应该花大力气加强而不是淡化基础知识和技能。继续在农村教育中推行“重能力，轻知识”的素质教育，其后果可想而知。

One night, a young teacher, Tian, came to my bedroom for a chat. A care-free and talkative young girl in her early 20s, Tian taught fifth grade Chinese class. I asked casually how many years she had worked as a teacher. “Three years,” she said. The next minute, she continued all by herself into her feelings about teaching:

“[Teaching] is becoming less and less interesting, unlike the days when I just started on the job. Now, every day is the same, the same teaching format, not creative at all. Every day is the same. The more I teach, the more upset (mao zao) I am. Don’t want to teach any more.”

“So, you did like teaching when you first taught?” I asked.

She nodded and said with a frown, “Right, I loved it, especially the first month as a student teacher. I felt so proud being a teacher! At that time, the [normal] school had multimedia equipment for us to prepare for classes. Other students helped me find all kinds of teaching materials. The content was rich and fun. After teaching, I had a strong sense of accomplishment. Now it is all gone. It is all the same each day. There is no sense of accomplishment at all in teaching, no creativity. I feel it [teaching] is so dull. I feel bad no matter students understand or not. I feel I teach poorly.”

“Do you mean the test scores are bad?”

“No,” she said, “I don’t measure [the quality of teaching] by test scores. I just don’t feel I am accomplishing something. I feel bad.”

Teaching in Chaoyang Elementary School was an experience of frustration. Teacher Qian was not alone. Many others also said that they used to have sincere passion for their work at the onset of the career, and yet, within one year or two, they soon burned out. Teachers with connections and other means already escaped Chaoyang to schools “outside” this mountain area. The remaining ones, especially young teachers, thought this place [Chaoyang Elementary School] had no hope.

What were the reasons that contributed to the current dismay? I brought the question to some of the veteran teachers and administrators in casual chats and formal interviews. They replied wittily: “Everyone knows the diagnosis, but nobody can provide the prescription.” Among the top culprits were poor student quality, absence of parental support, lack of administrative assistance, and finally insufficient in-service teacher training. Director Lin added another factor, the distrusting social atmosphere toward the school. Indeed, excellent schools may excel in different ways, but poorly-performing schools are usually poor in similar aspects – that is, falling apart in all aspects. This chapter focuses on the clashes between the rural lifestyle of students and parents and the school system. Chapter 6 will analyze the stifling internal administration and power relations between teachers and administrators/bureaucrats.

Coal Powders: the students

Teachers often complained that good students all left for better schools “outside” and those who stayed in Chaoyang Elementary School were mostly the poor performers. They thought that student quality was among the top reasons why the school had never succeeded in having even a single student being admitted into one of the key high schools in the county. Student loss usually concentrated at the time between grade six, the last elementary grade, and grade seven, the first grade in junior high. The elementary schools in adjacent townships were said to have not so much a difference than Chaoyang Elementary School. However, disparities in student achievement were believed to be enlarged in junior high grades, for which Chaoyang Elementary School had a notorious reputation among the villagers and parents. This was what Director Lin meant by a “distrusting social atmosphere.”

Junior high years were a crucial stage in deciding rural students’ fate in education. High achievers who managed to get into a key high school would enjoy a much higher probability of continuing on to college in the cities. Those that lagged behind would wind up their education at grade nine, or even earlier sometimes for those less patient ones. Most of these students would also march to the cities like their higher-achieving counterparts, not to the college though, but to construction sites or labor-intensive plants. Therefore, students who were serious in receiving a university education and who also had the means financially may well choose to transfer to a junior high school outside Chaoyang Township right after their graduation from the elementary school. Teachers reported that in 2006 over two-thirds of the top 50 scorers in grade six had transferred out. “Of course schools in cities or anywhere outside this mountain area fare better than we,” Teacher Huang said, “They had all the good students! Look at here. I am teaching math in the advanced class of grade eight. I guarantee you that one-third of students in my class cannot solve Math problems at grade four level. Come on! We are talking about students on the so-called fast track! Think of those kids in the slow class. Did you ever see people sifting coal lumps? Students in our mountain area are born disadvantaged comparing with the city kids. There is no large chunk of coal here in Chaoyang. Now, the relatively larger pieces are further filtered away. The leftover for us to teach are literally coal powders. And we are supposed to make them into solid chunks! That’s impossible!”

It was common to hear debasing comments on students of this kind among teachers’ casual talks. I even witnessed an old elementary teacher directly ridicule one of his students when the boy came to submit a form after the due time. The teacher said right in the boy’s face, “Late again! I tell you, that I am reputed for collecting junks. If I drive you away from the class, I am afraid no one else [teacher] would keep you in this entire region.”

It was hard for me in the beginning to accept harsh comments as such about students. Many times I suspected that teachers were making excuses for their lethargy and their failure in students’ achievement. Especially, they dismissed almost every educational innovation under Quality Education in method or in content as “unsuitable for students here in the mountain area.” When pressed “why,” they said, “the new curriculum (xin ke biao) is good. It puts emphasis on cultivating creativity, students’ independent skills of inquiry, habits of teamwork, emotional sensitivities. Those new textbooks are much better compiled than the ones used before, more interesting, with more pictures, diagrams, more flexible. Well, they are good, but they are not realistic. Maybe they are suitable for city students, but certainly not for students here.”

I puzzled for quite some time about what was realistic and what was not since teachers hardly offered specific explanations. All they offered was the cliché arguments that students in rural areas were backward, of low quality, could not adapt to and master fancy learning methods, and the textbooks were too distanced from students’ real life experiences (they have never seen a li jiao qiao, overlapped highway bridges, for example), so on and so forth. Similar rationale of rural-urban differences has been publicized and upheld in scholarly and popular discourses about what rural students ought to or ought not to learn. Disturbed about students’ indifference to and devaluation of rural agricultural life, scholars question the necessity for rural students to know about the President of the United States or airplanes or bread and milk, rather than local history, corns, cows, or cabbages (Xiong et al., 2002). Textbooks become the means for cultural colonization of the urban lifestyle. The so-called Quality Education was utterly a luxury for rural students (Li, 1999). With due respect for people’s concerns about the continuity of local culture and self-esteem of rural people, I hold deep doubts about the specious divide between the rural and the urban in regard to pedagogical issues. If we treat students’ immediate physical life as the only “reality,” then escalation to theoretical abstraction and understandings of a larger world would be difficult to achieve, if not entirely impossible, through education. Not to mention that some seemingly irrelevant facts about a geographically remote land may well carry a significant impact on people’s everyday lives, especially under today’s globalized economy.

Teachers just stopped at the conclusion that “those contents and methods were good, but not suitable for students here.” Unlike scholars criticizing the textbooks, they never elaborated on safeguarding the local roots, the agricultural lifestyle, or rural communal values. Neither did they accept that urban students were inherently smarter than rural children in terms of intelligence. Then, what did they mean by saying “not realistic?” If they presupposed there were fundamental differences between urban and rural students, what differences did they indicate? Were they trying to defend their traditional rote memorizing and banking style? Or to justify their failure in teaching by placing the blames on students? There was no ready answer. I realized that with all the effort to answer my questions they had difficulty finding the language to summarize it.

I finally figured out the meaning of “not realistic” through teachers’ casual chats over time and through my own teaching experience. Specific problems with the new curriculum and textbooks were popular topics in teachers’ chats and discussions. The two collective offices turned out to be the best site for me to collect opinions of a majority of teachers through their casual talks. One morning in September, some junior high teachers came to the elementary teachers’ collective office after class. At one point, the conversation shifted from jokes and gossips to teaching. Teachers both old and young all considered the goals and requirements in the new curriculum (xin ke biao) a dramatic leap from the traditional way of teaching. The new curriculum heavily depended on students independent “exploration (tan jiu),” investigation, self-reflection, empathizing with literary figures, which teachers “didn’t know how to teach.” Those comments were repeated many times and did not allow me a concrete idea of the hardship teachers faced. Then, Chinese teacher, Xu, told his confusions:

“I used to watch a video of demo teaching [Chinese class], done by an expert. He divided the students into two groups, and then threw out a statement. One group was to support the statement while the other group went against it. So the debate began. Students of both sides drew evidence from the essay to support their own arguments. True, the class had successfully mobilized students’ initiatives and students had to master the text in order to make powerful arguments. Yet, one question remained after I watched the entire class: at what time in the class to deal with the basics, like new words, phrases, sentence structure, and analysis of passages?”

At that moment, the question struck me as reasonable but too plain to have any analytical value. I did not understand the significance he attached to the basics until a month later when I had some real taste of teaching in my politics class. Students lacked the training in basic habits of learning: they never prepared for the new content before the class; never reviewed the lesson afterwards; never took notes during the lecture if not told so; took notes on pieces of scrap paper which got lost the second day; often misspelled even the most commonly used words; did not complete homework unless punished. In the end, it was almost impossible for students to accumulate what they had learned over time. Soon, I found myself joining the teachers in complaining about students’ performances.

For subjects like Chinese, Math, Physics, and English, in which later advance heavily relied on early accumulations, the higher the grades, the more headaches did teachers have in dealing with the basics. “Junior high students could not even properly read and write or understand the basic meanings of the texts. How are you going to expect them to empathize with the author or the characters in the literature? The essays just had no impact at all on their feelings. They are just numb,” said Chinese teacher, Wei. I used to sit in her Chinese lecture for ninth grade, the fast class. She spent three periods on one classic essay by Mensius, I Like Fish (yu wo suo yu ye). The first period was completely spent on words and phrases, the second on the meanings of each sentence and paragraph, and finally the last period on the structure of the essay. There was no time, and no intention from the teacher either, to discuss the moral and philosophical significance of this piece of classic literature. Wei later said, “Normally this piece should be covered within two periods, according to the teacher’s reference book. I already allowed one extra period for it because it is ancient language and requires more time on the basics. Don’t expect the students to consult the dictionary for words and phrases before the class. They expect me, the teacher, to clear the basics for them in class. And that takes time.” Her experience was true to many Chinese teachers in the school across the grades. Teachers spent a big chunk of class time explaining meanings of new words and phrases. The majority of the students simply ignored teachers’ requirement on before-class preparation. However, in urban schools, students were expected to understand these basics beforehand by checking in the dictionary on their own, by grade three, according to an elementary teacher in the county. In Chaoyang Elementary School, even teachers in ninth grade still had to take up the tasks that should have been accomplished way earlier in elementary years.

Thus, it was natural to hear teachers from higher grades to blame the lower grade teachers for their failure to “lay a solid foundation” for students’ future learning. In the end, teachers in grade one or grade two would be ultimately held accountable, following this logic. Many teachers agreed that the lower elementary grades were most important to shape students’ habits and lay a good foundation for later advancement. Nevertheless, with the limited pool of faculty, the more capable ones usually had to be assigned to teach graduating grades or junior high grades, as explained in the previous chapter.

This year, joined by six graduates from two-year colleges, Chaoyang Elementary School made some changes in personnel arrangement. The grade one class in the central school for the first time had a Chinese teacher, Qu, who had a college education. Qu did make efforts in “laying the foundation” for the children. She spent much time in teaching pinyin, the Roman letter system of pronunciation, which was one of the two main indexes for entry search in Chinese dictionaries. Two months into the semester, I met her one day in the collective office. She told me with anxiety, “Kids don’t do homework at home. I already add an extra class in the afternoon for them to finish homework before going home. Their parents don’t care. Most moms and papas have left home for work in cities. The kids were left with their grandparents. The grandmas and grandpas cannot help at all with their coursework. One boy even told me that his parents told him not to do homework! So, I have to go very slowly. You see, I have spent one month and a half on pinyin, but half of the students still cannot master it. Supposedly there are only two weeks for pinyin. I have over 60 kids. That [the class size] slows me down as well.” She opened the textbook and pointed to her teaching progression in the Table of Content: “Half of the semester has passed, I only covered one-third of the textbook. How am I able to finish the book within the semester?”

Qu’s comments were typical among teachers in two ways. Firstly, although junior high grades put the blame on elementary grades, higher elementary grades on lower elementary grades, ultimately teachers of all grades would trace the roots of problems outside the school walls into students’ families. Partially, teachers’ shared discontent toward parents became a buffer among teachers of different grades, preventing bitter finger-pointing among the faculty. Second, in everyday work, teachers had to constantly strike a balance between students’ learning needs and the pace of progression required of them. The higher the grade, the more likely that the concern for “finishing” the book would overwhelm because exams were pressing and students’ ever-growing knowledge gaps increasingly made any thorough review impractical.

Low Quality: the Parents

Teachers held mixed feelings towards students’ families. On one hand, they sympathized with the parents for their poor “economic conditions (jin ji tiao jian).” Teachers estimated that half to two-thirds of the students had at least one parent, mostly the fathers, working as manual labors in the county or more distant cities. At least one-third of students had both parents working away from home in urban areas. Students lived with grandparents, many of whom were illiterate. There were no newspapers, books, or magazines at home, because of economic stringency and illiteracy of the adults in the family. Every year, a couple of parents came home injured, handicapped, or even dead due to accidents in construction sites and illegal coal mines. Teachers were usually sympathetic for such misfortunes. During my short stay in Chaoyang, the father of one girl in ninth grade died in a coal mine accident. Her family called the school, asking the girl to go home on the weekend to attend the burial ceremony. Teachers did not tell her the truth. In the collective office, the head teacher Han said, “I tell her that there is a big family gathering in the weekend. Many of her relatives will come to visit.” Teacher Peng added, “I know! She told me with excitement that all her relatives will come and it must be a very special family event. She is looking forward to it.” Han said, “Poor thing! I will escort her back home on Saturday and tell her the truth on the way.” Another teacher half joked, “Well, you treat her well because she is a girl and a high achiever. If this happens to a poor-performing boy, you must directly tell him, ‘Your dad died. Go home!’” Many teachers laughed. Teacher Qiu, a young man, couldn’t bear such a joke and disagreed slightly, “You guys are so cruel!” Peng raised her head and refuted, “Don’t be pretentious! You think we are all cold-hearted people?”

On the other hand, teachers were sometimes furious for the lack of cooperation from students’ families. “You won’t believe it!” teachers told me, “Some parents never come to school [voluntarily]. Others come having absolutely no idea which grade the child was in or who the child’s teacher is.” I came across several cases when parents came to look for their children. Indeed, they would ask whoever they got hold of on the playground: “Do you know so and so [the child’s name]?” “No. Which grade or class?” “Oh, I am not sure.” “Who is the head teacher?” “I don’t know either.”

When parents did come to the teacher voluntarily, teachers were not happy about it either, because they came for troubles. One morning, Qu, the young first grade head teacher, met one mother right outside the collective offices. “I am looking for teacher Qu of grade one,” a short dark-colored woman in a yellowish T-shirt said loudly. It rained earlier in the morning. She wore a pair of black rubber rain boots, her pants rolled up half way of the legs, with a long black well-worn umbrella in hand. She complained to Qu that it has been a month into the semester but her son had not received the math textbook yet. Also, the desks of other children were brand new ones provided by the school free of charge (because of new government subsidies), but her son was using his own old desk bought from last year. In effect, the boy should be in grade two. Yet, after two weeks of the new semester, the parents decided to switch him down to grade one. It was a unique phenomenon in Chaoyang Elementary School that parents or students requested to change grade or class spontaneously and the school would not intervene as long as teachers involved agreed upon the new arrangement.

The mother pointed at Teacher Qu and spoke angrily: “I will go take away the desk right now! If you do not give my student a new desk, I will come back for you again! If you don’t give him the math book, I will come after you for the 60 yuan. I paid the money for my son to study here.” Her stress finally rested upon “paid the money.” Qu was just turning 20, a girl of small size and low voice. She explained slowly to the mother: “It is my fault that I forgot about the desk. You can remove your own desk, but wait till the end of this class. The class is still in session. I told the school leaders [ling dao] about the text book. The school does not have extra textbooks. He [the boy] may use his old one from last year.” The mother’s loud voice soon attracted eight or nine teachers out from the collective offices. They stood on the side of Teacher Qu in a half circle. Maybe, the parent saw no way to solve the problems immediately, or was intimidated by the sheer number of teachers. She started to step backward to the doorway of the school while repeating her complaints. Two steps backward, still unsatisfied, she would rush several steps forward again to Teacher Qu, pointing at her face and warning repeatedly: “I paid the money! You got to remember those things!”

I didn’t get to see the whole episode end because Principal Luo called me to his office in the midst of the drama. When I returned, the woman was walking away. Teachers still gathered outside the offices talking about the incident and ridiculing the mother. Teacher Peng was one of the most excited one: “Look at those parents! It is like teachers are indebted to them!” At my request, she recounted with victorious content and excitement: “Teacher Qu is too young to handle this type of parents. So I told the parent: ‘the head teacher has reported to the school leaders about the desk and the textbook. She should not be held accountable. You should talk with the principals.’ Of course, the parent was struck speechless and responded with anger: ‘I don’t know any of your principals! You think I want to come to your school? No! I don’t care to come if not for these troubles.’ I followed up immediately with smiles [and satire]: ‘Right, right, of course! Once you put your student in the school, good or bad it is all the school’s responsibilities. You don’t care to know in which direction the school gate is, who teaches your student, or who the school leaders are. Perhaps you won’t remember how your student looks before long!’” Peng continued with self-appreciation: “I caught her right there! She had nothing to respond. Finally, she had to manage a smile and said: ‘Of course I know how my student looks. I won’t forget that!’ At last, we directed her to the Vice Principal, Lu.” Teachers appeared to be amused by this unexpected instance. One teacher commented: “Teachers are already upset at such low pay. We are not going to be bullied even by parents.” Another teacher laughed, “Exactly! Good timing for an outlet!” Peng said, “Those matters are the jobs of the school leaders. Why come to trouble teachers?” Later, the teachers and I saw the woman following Vice Principal Lu into the storage room and coming out with a new desk and chair. She moved the desk and the chair into the classroom, all alone. No one offered a hand.

Teachers wished that parents in “this mountain area” could cooperate in the way the urban parents assisted their children. Parents in cities, they said, sent their children to good kindergartens before school age, where children could learn pinyin, numbers, and simple poems, while parents in Chaoyang let their kids run wild in the mountains. So in the first grade of the elementary school, teachers and students were merely repeating and reviewing what had been learned in the kindergarten. No wonder they could lay a solid foundation! It was easier to teach in urban schools. However, in Chaoyang Elementary School, students lost to their city counterparts at the starting line. Plus, city parents were better educated than the rural parents. They were willing and capable to assist and monitor students to finish homework and to keep frequent contact with teachers to update with students’ behaviors in school. Here in Chaoyang, parents seldom showed up; when they did, often times they came to pick on teachers. Parents didn’t care about students’ learning. They kept kids in school for the purpose of babysitting. I happened to witness two grandmas begging a teacher to keep their grandsons in the school. Both in the slow class of grade nine, the students were caught stealing money to play computer games overnight on the street. One grandma begged the teacher, “His parents are away working in the cities. Grandpa and I are not able to discipline the kid at home. We have nothing more to expect. It is only half a year from graduation. Please let him sit through junior high and then he can go out to look for work in the city^[1]. If you don’t keep him, what are we going to do with him at home for this half year?” To sum up in teacher’s word: “the quality of parents is too low!”

These comparisons were employed by teachers to account for their hardship in their work. I understand there were multiple meanings behind the complaints about students and parents. When in contrast with reputable urban schools or teachers, deficient students and parents became a way Chaoyang teachers defended themselves. In absence of such contrast, students’ and parents’ quality were invoked to express teachers’ feeling of frustration. In addition, a boundary was clearly drawn between school and family in teachers’ comments. The school, and thus teachers themselves, were not in the position and not able to correct the wrongs in the family, which ultimately implied that the wrongs within the school were futile to combat. Interestingly, teachers without any knowledge about the theory of cultural capital had developed similar insights in their own language. Living with them and teaching the same group of students, I had to admit that their analysis was well-grounded and should not be dismissed as defensive excuses for their own failure in the work.

However, I did disagree with teachers in the conclusion. Where teachers saw “low quality” students and families, I saw the clash of the rural lifestyle and the city-oriented school culture. Usually, the cultural clash was widely perceived by scholars as the degree of familiarity with the specific content of learning. For example, rural students had more difficulties than urban children to learn about airplanes, NBA stars, or Internet search tools because these contents were disconnected to the real life experiences in rural areas—so went the received wisdom. In addition, it was said to be a “cultural deficiency” of rural parents that they often times did not attach enough significance to their children’s education. The cultural clash I observed was different from both interpretations above.

In addition to the disadvantages in economic means, like scarce access to computers, books, magazines, lab facilities, the Internet, rural students and parents were fundamentally disadvantaged, firstly, by the behavioral disciplines intrinsically associated with the way of learning centered around reading, writing, and logical thinking, and secondly, by the bureaucratic and age-based school organizational structure. Learning activities evolving around reading, writing, and reasoning required a particular set of behavioral habits, including the habits of sitting down quietly, concentrating when reading and listening, accumulating facts, practicing, writing with clear strokes, keeping books and stationeries well organized. In other words, learning needed a considerable amount of self-discipline, which did not come to children naturally. These basic behavioral habits ultimately would shape students’ characters as well as their academic outcomes.

For urban children, if these habits were not intentionally inculcated by their parents, most children were at least sent to the kindergarten as early as 3 years old. By the time they entered the first grade in an elementary school at age 6 or 7, not only had they already learned simple reading, writing, calculating, singing, drawing, dancing, even more importantly, they also became accustomed to the classroom order and the whole set of disciplines required by the school. The rural families, in contrast, often times could not afford or did not care to pay for the kindergarten while kindergartens in townships or villages were of much lower quality as well. Therefore, the task of students’ cultural assimilation into the school setting largely rested on parents for rural children.

However, I frequently saw rural adults sharing similar problems with rural children in regard to learning habits. Most likely, rural residents who could successfully adapt themselves to the school culture had already advanced into the workforce in urban areas through schooling. Thus, the rural society was left with a population ill-adapted to the disciplinary and structural culture of the school. Reading and writing used to be considered irrelevant to peasants’ life. As Director Lin recalled, when he was a primary school boy, his father would beat him up for writing homework instead of cutting grass for their pigs. That was the old generation, though. Today, the mindset of rural parents had changed. Unlike the criticism for their negligence of education, rural parents urged their children to “listen to teachers” and “study hard” in school so the children would enjoy a better future than themselves. Schooling as a springboard for upward social mobility was taken to heart by rural parents. Unfortunately, the devil is in the detail. The problem was, they didn’t know how.

Despite the change in rural people’s attitude toward education, two barriers still remained. For one, textbook knowledge learned in school in no way connected with the agrarian work or even manual work in cities. For manual laborers, peasants and workers alike, voluntary reading and writing were not essential skills for their livelihood. There was a clear divide between manual labor and intellectual labor. Habits derived from intellectual activities were simply not part of the rural life. If rural parents ever learned anything in school, they were likely to have forgotten it by the time their children needed their assistance. Also, if the adults failed to make it through junior high (the average school year for rural population was 7), most likely they themselves were not aware of the importance of necessary behavioral habits. Secondly, they appeared to have only a vague idea about the organizational structure of a school. Some parents came to school not knowing their children were anchored to a grade and a class; others decided to switch students’ grades back and forth. The mother aforementioned was struck speechless when teachers unexpectedly put up the shield of the bureaucratic division of labor to dismiss her protest. To me, these instances suggested that rural parents lacked the basic understanding about the organizational culture. For instance, students and teachers were broken into grades and classes, grades were age-based groupings, each grade had its unique academic goals and contents, and the faculty was arranged in a bureaucratic hierarchy, which resulted in complicated contentions between teachers and the administrators. However, the school culture, both behavioral and structural, was tacit knowledge for urban adults, who usually received at least high school education (over 90%). The school with its special behavior disciplines, organizational structures, and bureaucratic institutions, was an unfamiliar cultural system transplanted on the rural territory, imposing itself on the lifestyle of rural populations.

These cultural barriers, on top of economic disadvantages, further hampered rural parents’ capacity in assisting their children’s school education: they could not help with academic coursework, or behavioral disciplines, or constructive relations with teachers. When a child fared poorly in school, the parents either quickly lost expectation for the child or lost their temper and beat the child to “teach him a good lesson.” My impression was that the former more often happened to girls and the latter to boys. Either way, children were left with no practical solution to the obstacles they encountered in school day in and day out. Lacking the know-how, parents’ stress on their children’s education seemed to be hollow words in the end.

Speed or Quality: the Teaching

The clash between the school culture and rural lifestyle was interpreted by teachers as “the low quality” of the students and the parents. The interpretation betrayed teachers’ conception that students should have come to school with certain level of preparation—behavioral, academic, or cultural—appropriate for school life. Such preparation for those prerequisite “qualities” was considered exclusively the responsibility of the family, hence a divide in the functions between school and family. Indeed, the school system was set up predicated on this divide. The curriculum and the gradation system were set up in a way disregarding the disparities among students within one class or across geographic areas. No matter students resided in the county, the township, or the village, well or ill prepared, they would have to proceed with the same textbooks at the same pace of learning as long as they were in the same grade. It was almost impossible to tease out whether it was out of personal beliefs or out of obligation to perform the job requirements that Chaoyang teachers held the school-family division of functions, because, once routinized, the external restraints immersed into minute daily activities, altering teachers’ mindset without being realized.

As the result of the routinized school practices, these cultural mismatches between the school system and the “low quality” students and their families were played out on a daily scale in teachers’ work in forms of students’ trivial but nerve-racking misbehaviors, lapse in homework, plagiarism, distractions and indifference in class. Behind teachers’ complaints about all these trifles was the constant anxiety about the pace of progression, just as expressed in Teacher Qu’s worries: “Half of the semester had passed, I only covered one-third of the textbook. How am I able to finish the book within the semester?”

Teachers were entrusted by the school, the county educational bureau, and ultimately the state to impart a certain amount of knowledge to the students within a certain time span, usually segmented into semesters. Each semester, the teacher was responsible for covering an entire textbook for his/her subject, a textbook compiled by experts and chosen by educational officials. Teachers’ reference books, which came with the textbooks, would suggest class hours for each lesson. Too fast, students would have a hard time grappling with the content. The math teacher, Yu, who was despised by other teacher because he often missed his classes, was said to cover 20 pages, i.e. 10 lessons, within a single class hour (45 minutes), perhaps to make up the lessons lagged behind. The head teacher of the class, Li, scorned Yu’s irresponsibility to me: “Students were not only riding aircraft, but riding rockets!” He pointed to the sky with one finger, mocking the acceleration of a rocket. However, if teachers taught too slowly, they risked not completing the required work load, like in Teacher Qu’s case. Around mid-term, Director Lin informally checked with teachers about their progression. In the weekly faculty meeting, he reminded the teachers: “Half of the semester will have passed by next week. Please pay attention to your teaching speeds. Some of you are close to finishing while others are lingering at the first few pages.”

Corresponding tests would be administered by the school or the educational bureau to evaluate achievements, which also functioned as a mechanism to monitor the progression of the textbook delivery. Teachers’ anxiety about the speed and Director Lin’s reminder made perfect sense only under the pressure of these exams. Exam papers were usually ordered from external sources to guarantee an objective evaluation, so to speak. For mid-term exams, Chaoyang Elementary School used the exam papers produced by the county educational bureau. One week before the exam, the chemistry teacher, Ke, walked angrily into the luncheon room where young teacher had meals on week days. “Director Lin told me the mid-term exam on chemistry will cover 4 units of the textbook. I told him I just finished 3 so far. Maybe those questions about unit four should be left out. He did not agree and scolded me for moving too slowly. What am I going to do? Fly through the unit in one week? Who the heck controls the pace of teaching, anyway? He or I? Speed is important, but quality also needs to be guaranteed.” Mismatches like this existed here and there in mid-term exams or monthly exams, where negotiation remained possible. However, the end-semester final exams were the hard measure and directly linked with teachers’ bonuses. By then, every teacher was supposed to finish the assigned textbook or to suffer economic loss for poor exam scores.

Final tests were like a sword hanging over every teacher’s head. Yet, essentially, it was a catch for teachers. Good examination scores depended not only on completion of the textbook, but also on the effectiveness of imparting the knowledge. For students in Chaoyang Elementary School, who persistently performed way below grade requirement since early elementary school, keeping up with the normal pace of teaching, i.e. allocation of periods for each unit or lesson suggested by the teacher’s reference book, meant sacrificing the quality of teaching and learning. As shown previously, short of the behavioral habits and familial environment amicable to school learning, students in Chaoyang Elementary School needed more time to grasp the same amount of facts or skills. Training in habits and molding their characters ought to be made part of the curriculum for these children if successful education was contingent upon these habits and characters, which these children were not born with by nature. The higher the grade, the harder and slower would it be to introduce the new knowledge to the students if they had lagged behind since the beginning. Moreover, the textbook contained objects, notions, and places, unfamiliar to rural children, which also demanded more time for explanation. Apparently, these practical barriers facing rural students were not taken into consideration when textbooks were compiled in a way in which advanced students in city key schools were expected to spend the same amount of class time as their way-behind rural counterparts. Completing the textbook on time would leave more students further behind. Slowing down to accommodate students’ needs risked completion of the textbook. It was a losing battle: either way, the exam result would hardly look good.

Different teachers had different strategies to cope with the dilemma. Math teacher Yu, who could not care less about students’ achievement, was said to dedicate sometimes an entire class to a single exercise question, and other times go over 20 lessons without stop within one hour. Some teachers proceeded in accordance with the instructions on the teacher’s reference book unresponsive to students’ levels of reception. Still many other teachers constantly struggled on the speed of teaching, trying to strike a balance between students’ reception and the required teaching pace.

These struggles on pace, on completing the planned content, were at play in minute pedagogical decisions in every school day. Often, I sat in the classroom and saw the teacher ask a question in class, call on two or three students, and get the wrong answers or many times no answer at all except silence. At this point, the teacher would have to make a decision whether to try another student or to provide the correct answer to save time. Predominantly, teachers would choose to move on by giving out the answer. English teacher, Luo, said, “I won’t call on the students in the back [of the classroom]. They could not understand a bit and there is no time for me to correct them. Or I will never finish any teaching plan. So I just make sure the top few can get by.” Math teacher, Huang, expressed many times that he would only slow down for the top five or six students. Because question-answers with individual students were usually unsuccessful, teachers often avoided calling on individual students, letting the class answer collectively. Understandably, questions suitable for collective answers were substantially limited to either reading out the original texts from the book or completing the teacher’s sentences where the answers were obvious. Neither were genuine questions that encouraged independent thinking. Students of all grades in Chaoyang Elementary School had a monotonous tune when reading any kind of texts, a flat tone and rhythm applied to any passage or essay, with no natural ups and downs, pauses or shifts coming with the meaning of the texts, demanding no emotion to or understanding of the text from the readers. The frequent collective read-out in class made a significant contribution to this lazy fashion of reading, since students had to adjust themselves to a neutral tune in order to read in one voice, which subdued all independent understandings and individual emotions in recitation. Also, completing the teacher’s sentences led students to not reflect over the question per se, but to guess the teacher’s intentions. These side effects again perpetuated parts of students’ poor learning habits and contributed to poor exam performances in the end. Therefore, the struggle over teaching schedule and student achievement was a losing battle in my eyes. Yet, teachers somehow had each developed an acceptable balance between speed and performance. To some extent, I guess, they had to.

Only with full awareness of teachers’ concern about the pace could we start to make sense of teachers’ critique on the new student-centered curriculum and teaching methods as “unsuitable” and “unrealistic” for “kids in mountain areas.” I never heard teachers argue against the contents of the textbooks on the ground that learning about London Tower, globalization, Microsoft, NBA, Shakespeare, independent thinking skills, and research skills, was inappropriate for these students for the lack of immediate relevance to their lives. Most comments, if not all, were positive in regard to the changes in content. The textbooks in and of themselves were considered by teachers to be much more interesting and enjoyable than before, “but…” There was always this critical shift “but” – “but it is so difficult for us to teach!”

It turned out that the new difficulty was mainly a procedural and technical concern about time. The new textbooks had an increase in information quantity. For example, the English textbooks used to be organized in lessons. Each lesson was a dialogue or a passage with specific notations on new words and the focal grammar point for sentence drilling. “It was clear and easier for students to know which words and grammars they should put their stress on for each lesson,” said English teacher, Liu. She showed me the new textbook, “Now it is organized in units. Each unit contains A, B, C, D four sections with dialogues, short passages, letters, posters, diagrams, pictures, listening comprehension, and myriad forms of practices. Every section often times involves multiple grammatical knowledge points and lots of new words. I don’t know where to put the emphasis. Plus, each section is assigned one period. It is so difficult even to go over all the stuff within one period.” Students above grade four had self study time in the evening. It was common for teachers to continue in the evening classes with the new lesson incomplete during the day or to save class time for next day. The increase in the content of textbooks disturbed the delicate balance managed by teachers between the pace and the quality of teaching.

The student-centered teaching methods aggravated the anxiety over the disturbed balance. Math teacher, Huang, said, “The teacher’s reference book requires that students should independently arrive at the theory with the assistance of the teacher. Teachers can not straightforwardly tell the students. Well, they can’t even do math problems of fourth grade. How can they arrive to the theory by themselves?” Chinese teacher, Wen, in his mid-20s, once described his classroom interactions: “Once you [the teacher] ask a question, all [students’] heads lower down. You call on one student. He/she stands up, head down, swaying from side to side, sometimes playing with a pen or pencil at hand, without speaking a single word.” Another day, he expressed frustration with the new textbook: “nowadays, the textbook requires the students to come up with their own opinions, feelings, and imaginations. Teachers cannot give out the answers directly. But those students never think for themselves. They are not able to think for themselves. Teachers say ‘it is a circle’ and they will say ‘it is a circle.’ Teachers say ‘it is a square’ and they will say ‘it is a square.’ [If] you [the teacher] ask them for their own opinions, they just sit still and look at you in loss. At the end of the class, they would learn nothing.” I fully understood him. In many classes I sat in or taught, the moments when students responded to the teacher with silence or multiple “incorrect” answers were embarrassing to both the teacher and the students. The teacher would be looking around the classroom for any chance to make eye contact with students who might have the potential or eagerness to answer the question. Yet, the students all lowered their heads and eyes to avoid eye contact with the teacher. The deadlock had to be broken by someone, mostly the teacher, providing the correct answer so both the teacher and the students could be relieved and the class could move on. These stalemates robbed away class time. If the teacher insisted on not giving out the answer directly, the deadlocks would be unbearably prolonged, the teaching plan disrupted, and students ended up “learning nothing.” Giving out the answer did not necessarily mean that the students had “learned something.” Anyway, “as long as one student in the class knows it [the content of teaching], it proves that I have taught it. I have done my job!” one teacher used to say. So, the traditional “teacher-centered” strategy satisfied several demands: saving time, a chance for some students to “get it,” fulfilling the job requirement on the part of the teacher, and perhaps self-comfort for the teacher for soothing their conscience on the work.

The fancy methods of “student-centered” teaching were proved to be impractical in a demonstration class given by a teacher from the county’s best elementary school. Teamwork was another buzz word in new teaching methods. During my stay in Chaoyang, the county Institute of Teacher Training sent a group of county teachers to Chaoyang Elementary School to teach two demonstration classes. The demo math class to third graders was on the concept and the measurement of “perimeter.” The teacher re-organized the class seats into 6 groups and provided tool kits for students to measure perimeters of multiple objects. The group activities turned out to be loose and ineffective. Math teachers in Chaoyang who observed the class all dismissed the teamwork schema with contempt: “Students were never trained in such group activities. It won’t work. A normal class has 45 minutes. Her class took over one hour, and yet, the students did not quite understand the concept of perimeter. No to mention she only had half of the class for the purpose of demonstration. With the full class size, she would get 12 groups. The class may well extend into two hours!”

In my view, teachers did not raise questions about whether the content or methods required by the new curriculum were legitimate or appropriate. Neither did they argue that these knowledge or skills were inherently incomprehensible to their “students in this mountain area.” Rather, to me, they were principally concerned about the efficiency of teaching. For these students to “learn” these knowledge and skills, the student-centered methods would take significantly longer than the so-called traditional didactics because these higher thinking skills and creative capacities had to be built upon strict prior trainings in essential basics, both accumulative facts and behavioral habits. In my own teaching, I assisted students to conduct group investigations on topics of their own interest. Even under my daily supervision, still only one group ever completed their project. That simple project took them five weeks, doubled the time of my original two-week plan. Such flexibility in time arrangement was a pure unaffordable luxury for the teachers because their work load and pace was externally determined by the textbooks and closely monitored and evaluated through examinations.

Evil Examinations?

It would be too simplistic to conclude that examinations were the culprit for the illnesses in Chaoyang Elementary School, although such a statement would confirm the pre-conceived judgment of many people. Here, it is worth a bit elaboration to clarify the functions and effects of examinations. Tests were employed to achieve multiple purposes. Sometimes the Education Bureau would randomly select a grade to compare student achievement cross the entire county. In Fall 2006, the Education Bureau decided to choose grade six as the sample grade in the final exam. All elementary schools in the county would be ranked by their average test scores. Most embarrassingly, schools with the three lowest average scores would be publicly announced in the county. Those three unfortunate principals were to be held accountable. Chaoyang Elementary School, which stood at 50^th place in the pool of 58 schools last year, had a rather big chance to drop to the bottom since the sixth graders this year were even poorer according to the teachers. Anxious about losing face in front of colleagues of the entire county, Principal Luo suddenly tensed up over the test results of grade six. Therefore, one of the paramount goals for the semester was to secure a place above 56^th in the rank. Tying test scores with individual school principals’ personal stakes, tests in this case functioned as a distant-control technique utilized by the state as a whip on local school staff.

For other grades absent of the state requirement on test scores, tests remained a crucial measure not so much for monitoring the achievement of students, but for allocating school resources, deciding social status among teachers, and in short, for the purpose of organizational management and control within the school. For instance, teachers would be categorized into five classes based on the average test scores of their classes, which in turn corresponded to five classes of bonus distribution. For each outstanding scorer in the class, the teacher could glean extra bonuses. Some teachers also offered monetary reward to students to encourage high test scores, for example 10 yuan for the top scorer. Although associated with varied institutional as well as personal stakes, it seemed to me that testing was used at all levels as the major incentive device for quality control.

The quality of teaching/learning was symbolized by test scores. This conception of “educational quality” had been under assault for quite a long time. Researchers, theorists, practitioners, and general lay people all agreed that high scores did not necessarily indicate high creativity or operational skills. Without denying the validity of the critique, I think, for Chaoyang Elementary School or maybe thousands of rural schools alike, such concern was largely irrelevant. For Chaoyang Elementary School, the problem was not of “high score – low ability,” but of “low score – low ability.” Test scores might not be able to detect student genuine capacity at the high end, but they obviously had a much higher association with student mastery of the subject at the low end. In one of the grade six monthly tests, the average scores of the three classes respectively were 62.4, 59.6, and 55.5 on the Chinese test, and 34.05, 31.02, and 26.9 on the math test, all out of a 100-point scale. More than 20 students across the grade got single-digit scores on math, with the lowest one at 3.5 points. These statistics made a splash in school especially among the administrators and junior high teachers. “3.5?!” Director Lin burst out, “One can hit 3.5 points just by wild guess with eyes closed! This student apparently learned nothing in his previous five years of math classes!” Teachers in grade six reported that students blundered on knowledge that was covered in grade one or two. For grade one, the end-semester final exam results averaged around 60 (out of 100) for both Chinese and math in Chaoyang Elementary School while teachers in county schools considered an average of 80 as the passing score. No wonder when moving up into junior high, students in slow classes had average scores between 15 and 20 out of 100 for every single subject. Sadly, the slow classes comprised 70% of the student body in junior high Department. Corresponding to their bottom-level test scores, these students lacked the basic mathematic skills, wrote in simple broken sentences full of spelling mistakes, and had difficulty understanding texts written in language other than the colloquial style. Thus, for poorly performing students and students in lower grades, tests were a reasonable and effective barometer, in this case, to monitor students’ mastery of rudimentary facts.

Therefore, the meanings of test scores differed between rural schools like Chaoyang and key schools in urban areas. The distinction was determined by the characteristics of the student bodies. Having acquired the skills of basic reading and writing, students in key schools were usually faced with the challenges of so-called higher thinking skills and creative capacities, many of which the paper-and-pen tests were not sufficient to bring out. However, the majority of students in Chaoyang Elementary School, as I have emphasized the scale several times, persistently performed way below the grade requirement since early elementary years. The greatest obstacles, in my view, came from students’ failure in accumulating the basic facts and skills, which resulted from the behavioral and institutional mismatch between the school culture and the rural lifestyle. Tests in the rural context could be a meaningful way to pressure students to perform on par on the essential facts and skills.

Unfortunately, recent years had witnessed a nation-wide reform tide of eliminating exams in elementary schools regardless of rural students’ practical problems. Admissions to junior high schools no longer required passing exams. Tests were still administered to assess teachers’ performance and to sort students into junior high schools of varied reputations. “Even if a student got 0 in the test, he or she still has a middle school to attend. Maybe a bad school, like in Chaoyang, but the school had to admit him or her no matter how unqualified the student is,” said junior high teachers in Chaoyang. Abolishing the admission test barriers was intended to guarantee rural students the nine-year compulsory education promised by the government. Yet, for the majority of students in Chaoyang Elementary School, this measure only guaranteed nine years of sitting in school, not necessarily nine years of education. The laxness on tests opened the door to an even more diluted pedagogy.

The critical question was not whether the exams should be abandoned; the fault was not the exams per se. The exams were intimately tied up with the curriculum and textbooks that failed to account for the cultural barriers confronting rural students. Those cultural gaps between the students and the curriculum should not be understood merely in terms of students’ unfamiliarity with the learning contents. Such strangeness did exist, but it was by no means insurmountable. It only demanded longer time.

Time was the key to understand Chaoyang students’ disadvantages as well as teachers’ constant apprehension on keeping the pace especially with the new curriculum. Because of insufficient habitual, behavioral, and institutional preparations, rural students performed behind the grade level from the first grade. Yet, the river of time never stopped for them to catch up. New knowledge was programmed to be introduced at a universal schedule insensitive to students’ differences and beyond the control of the students or the teachers. Behind this curriculum schedule was the age-based grouping system of school grades. However diverse the students were in their ethnic, economic, social, intellectual, physical, or familial backgrounds, once they were categorized into the same school grade, they were assumed to be of equal capacity, hence the homogeneous pedagogical treatment and the legitimate expectation for similar achievements, usually evaluated by test scores. When the achievement standard was set higher than what the practical conditions of the rural students allowed, these cultural disadvantages were translated into poor exam scores for students and never-ending struggles between teaching speed and students’ receptions on the part of teachers.

The exam scores always attracted most attention. Yet, by the time the examinations, especially those high-stake exams, broadcast the shocking achievement gaps, such as the 3.5 point math score, rounds of silent, dragging, and daily battles on time, on speed, on the clash between the school culture and the rural habitus had approached the destined finale. As long as the curriculum continues to exclude the essential cultural adaptation process needed by rural students and teacher remains merely a pre-programmed transmission tool between the students and the textbooks, this destiny is unlikely to change.

References

Li, Shulei. 1999. cunluo zhong de “guojia”: wenhua bianqian zhong de xiangcun xuexiao. (“The State” in the Village: Rural Schools in Cultural Transformation.) Hangzhou, China: Zhejiang People’s Publishing House.

Xiong, Jingming, Tiejun Wen, et al. 2002. “Cuowei: nongmin xuqiu yu zhidu gongji zhijian de maodun. (Disconnections: the Conflicts between Peasants’ Needs and Institutional Provisions.)” Open Times, 158: 33-59.

教师的游戏观与儿童的自由

—- 城乡幼儿教育比较中的启示[1]

车 艺 鄢超云

摘要：本文采用以录像为媒介的集体访谈和多重话语的教育人类学研究方法，探讨了中国城乡幼教工作者对游戏，特别是幼儿园中儿童自由游戏的不同看法。研究归纳出三种看似不同但实则存在内在关联和相互转化可能的游戏观。第一种，认为儿童自由游戏只是幼儿园中游戏的一种，游戏化的教学也可以称之为游戏。第二种，认为儿童自由游戏是真正的游戏，教学游戏化（或游戏教学化）固然有其合理性，但跟游戏有质的区别。第三种，认为高水平的自由游戏是儿童游戏的最高境界，“会玩”的孩子才能在游戏中享受到真正的自由。教师的游戏观影响了儿童对游戏、对自由的体验。

关键词： 游戏观，儿童游戏，儿童自由，农村幼教，城乡幼教比较

在幼儿园中，什么样的活动可以称之为“游戏”？通常认为，“游戏”不同于“工作”、“劳动”等工具性行为，而跟“审美”、“艺术创作”等活动类似；是不受外部强加规则制约、重过程而非结果、儿童自愿参与并能满足他们身心发展需要的一种活动[1] 。 判断一个活动是否是真正的游戏，最关键的标准之一是游戏者自身的体验，即看儿童是否能在该活动中获得一种“开心”、“好玩”的感觉，看他们是否“自觉自愿、无外在动机和目的”[2]。简言之，游戏中的儿童应该是一个自由的个体，他的主体性可以得到最充分的张扬和发展。但理论上的清晰并不能杜绝实践中的困惑。事实上，在幼儿园日常活动中，一线教师对“什么是游戏”、“幼儿园的游戏活动如何开展”等问题的回答往往五花八门。本研究试图就以下问题进行探讨：幼儿园的老师们怎么看待游戏，特别是儿童的自由游戏（即没有成人的干预完全由儿童自己发起和持续参与的游戏）？城市与农村幼儿教师在对儿童游戏的看法上有何区别？老师们对游戏的理解是否会影响到幼儿园中儿童的游戏体验，特别是他们对自由的体验？

本研究主要采用以录像为媒介的、多层话语分析的教育人类学方法。研究步骤包括：首先，拍摄自然状态下某农村幼儿园一日生活的录像并将其编辑成20分钟长的短片作为研究用刺激带；然后，组织城乡幼教工作者观看录像并讨论；最后，收集、整理和分析访谈资料[3]。需要申明的是，选中该幼儿园拍摄录像并将其作为我们研究的出发点，与其说是经过严格的样本筛选，不如说是一次邂逅。因为我们并非要把所拍摄的内容本身当作一个农村幼儿园课程的典型，所以选择哪个幼儿园并不重要；重要的是观众看完录像后所发表的评论，以及这些评论中流露出的教育理念。

长江幼儿园的一天

长江幼儿园坐落在山城重庆郊区、长江岸边，是一所规模不大的农村幼儿园。2005年初夏我们拍摄录像时，该园有3位带班教师、一位园长（也参与带班）、一位兼职厨师，大中小班各一，共57名幼儿。限于篇幅，我们将只重点描述部分镜头。

早操前，教室里，两个4岁男孩趴在齐胸高的课桌上玩拍纸画的游戏，旁边不时有小朋友围过来观战。老师一直没有在教室出现。户外水泥地操场上，唯一的游戏器材是一个用水泥和砖头砌成的滑梯。有小朋友沿着滑梯道往上爬。滑梯下方，三位小女孩挤在一起说着悄悄话。六、七位男孩凑在花坛边，幻想着自己手中的石头是飞机、大炮，嘴里发出“嘟嘟”声。水沟边上，几位男孩女孩用落叶、泥土和水等玩过家家。此外，孩子们三五成群，在光滑地面上假装“滑冰”、追逐、捉迷藏、叠纸飞机等等。老师一直站在操场的一角，没有任何介入。

早操和自由活动后，9:20，第一堂课铃声响起，30岁出头的游老师走进中班教室。教室内靠门的地方有一架风琴和一个放课本的书桌，见不到一件玩具。18位小朋友都坐好后，游老师发给每人一个不锈钢小碟子，里面放了四张5×5厘米见方的识字卡片。有人好奇地打量教具，大部分小朋友听老师的话把小手背在背后“藏起来”，坐得很端正。接下来游老师教认了四个汉字：“吹、唱、吃、喝”。教每个字的过程中，游老师一般先组织一些集体活动（孩子们一直坐着），比如让孩子们猜测吹泡泡和吹气球的动作、一起唱歌、看图说话（画面上有小朋友喝水、吃饭的情景）等；然后让小朋友跟老师反复诵读生字，再从自己面前的碟子里找出这个汉字。四个字都教完后，老师启发大家归纳几个字的共同点：“左边都有个‘口’，跟嘴有关，是不是？”40分钟过去，下课铃响起，小朋友们按老师的要求，把自己手中的四个“字宝宝”一一对应地送进老师事先准备好的四个纸盒子中，然后有的出去上厕所、喝水，有的留在教室自由活动。

上午一共有三节集体教学活动。其它两节分别是一个手工活动，用彩色橡皮泥做“美丽的花”和一个体育活动“背沙包、运沙包、投掷沙包”。吃完午饭后，全园幼儿在二楼午睡，值班的俞老师一直呆在寝室里，帮助个别小班幼儿穿脱衣服、盖被子，其余孩子大都自己照顾自己或互相帮忙。没有人吵闹，孩子们很快入睡了。两小时后，大家起床、自己穿衣、穿鞋、叠被子。镜头中一个男孩从三层上下铺的第三层灵活地爬下来，挽着一个小伙伴一道下了楼。

下午的主要活动是一周一次的户外郊游。老师和园长交代了外出纪律后带领全园小朋友走出幼儿园大门，穿过镇中心商业区，来到绿色的田野。老师偶尔停下来问孩子们看到了什么、教他们认识周围的花草树木。小朋友们有的手牵手唱着儿歌，有的去摘路边的狗尾草，有的干脆一个劲往前跑。三位老师分别走在队伍的前中后，几乎没有怎么限制孩子们的活动。当队伍路过养鱼的池塘、狭窄而陡峭的石阶等显得比较危险的路段时，除个别有残疾的孩子需要老师背或牵扶外，绝大多数幼儿都能自己小心而安全地通过。

下午4点半，全体幼儿回到幼儿园，在教室外的空地上集合，准备放学。游老师站在队伍前，交待了今天的注意事项，如“不要到水池边去玩”、“天快要下雨了，没带伞的小朋友要快快回家，不要在路上逗留”等等。个别孩子有家长来接，绝大多数幼儿结伴回家。很快，孩子们都离开了，两位老师和园长视察全园后锁上教室和大门，也说笑着离开了幼儿园。

游戏观一：“幼儿园里应该组织更多游戏，他们有点小学化”

当我们把长江幼儿园一日活动的录像播放给其他幼儿园的老师和园长看时，有相当一部分观众指出该幼儿园课程明显存在“小学化”倾向：

他们这种教学形式，不像幼儿园。在课程内容上，感觉不太符合他们这个年龄阶段的特点，四五岁的孩子就像小学生一样识字。［A老师，昆明市区］

我看了以后的第一感觉是，有点象小学化的教育……我们幼儿园是提倡游戏化的教学，但他们那里我觉得跟小学教生字差不多。 [B老师，贵州某镇]

他们象小学样的，自己耍自己的⋯⋯幼儿园游戏应该是既有分组游戏又有集体游戏，他那个有点象小学的，就是娃娃自己耍，想看书就看书，反正想干个啥子就干个啥子。 [C老师，成都某镇]

学前教育“小学化”一般指用教育小学生的一套理念和方法来教育学龄前儿童。我国幼教界对学前教育“小学化”普遍持批判态度，早在1987年召开的第一次全国幼教工作会议中就曾明确指出该现象“无视幼儿身心发展特点和幼儿教育规律”[4]。 时至今日仍不时有幼教工作者撰文呼吁相关部门应加强监督、提高师资水平、尽量杜绝一些地方层出不穷的幼教“小学化”做法[5]。在这样的舆论和政策背景下，不少一线幼教工作者对长江幼儿园课程的批判并不难理解[2]。很明显，这些教师主要是针对录像中上午的集体教学活动而言。在她们看来，该农村幼儿园“小学化”倾向主要表现在：1）教学内容上安排了识字课，不适合中班（四岁左右）幼儿的年龄特点；2）教学方法上以老师为中心，大量使用黑板、讲授、出示范例等，没有做到“以游戏为基本活动”；3）课程安排像小学，有上课打铃和课间休息时间等。

在访谈中，这些老师下意识地将游戏当作评判一个幼儿园课程的主要标准之一：“小学化”的课程势必游戏少、形式单一；而适合儿童发展特点的幼儿园课程则不光游戏丰富多彩，教学也应以游戏的方式进行，即力争做到教学“游戏化”。但随着访谈的深入，部分持有上述观点的老师也谈及在贯彻教学活动“游戏化”的理念时遇到的一些尴尬，比如，因概念泛化而带来的迷惑、在处理“游戏”跟“教学”关系时的矛盾、甚至出现有违儿童自愿参与原则的“游戏”。

现在幼儿园哪样不是游戏嘛？天天都说游戏化。除了睡觉啊这种生活活动，我实在不肯定算不算游戏，其他的都算吧。[E老师，成都市区]

但是游戏多了也很容易影响教学目标的达成，比如算术，儿童很少主动选择它来游戏，但算术又确实很重要。[F老师，成都市区]

我们这种有老师的引导，这么多娃娃都参与这个游戏，肯定不是每个娃娃都喜欢这个游戏，但也要参与，你就要想办法让他把注意力集中到这边来，他自己的想法那些不能暴露了，被拘束了。要学知识 ，有时就是个别娃娃，他就不喜欢这个游戏还是被强迫来耍这个游戏。[C老师，成都某镇]

我们发现，换个角度来看，教学“游戏化”也可以说是游戏的“教学化”，即在儿童自发游戏中添加“教学”的成分，通过教师的介入使儿童在不知不觉的游戏中获得“学习”经验。比如，当我们把研究录像放给重庆某示范幼儿园两位园长看后，其中一位针对录像中农村孩子拍纸画的游戏做了如下点评：

比如说开始的时候拍纸画，这个活动很好，城里孩子很少接触，如果利用得好的话，可以在里面发现很多有教育价值的东西。但这就需要教师的教育智慧。他们是自发的，教师没有敏感到这是一种（教育的）契机。［G园长，重庆市区］

G园长的看法颇具代表性，估计在课改日益推进的今天，有类似想法的幼教工作者不在少数，但我们想听一听长江幼儿园的园长和老师们是怎么看待这个问题的，她们是否认同这种儿童游戏“需要教师的教育智慧”来指导的观点呢？

游戏观二： “下课了，就是玩的时间”

在回访长江幼儿园时，我们将上述意见转达给了录像中的两位带班教师和园长，并问她们对此有何看法。一开始，老师们并不是很理解“教育契机”具体指什么。在听了我们的解释，明白问题之后，她们表示，课间活动是儿童自己的活动，是“游戏”，教师的职责主要是保证活动安全，没必要对幼儿的游戏进行干预或指导：

这算是课间游戏吧。下课我们基本上就是放任他们。我们不像XX幼儿园（一个上海示范幼儿园，通过我们的研究录像了解）那样没有上课下课之分。我们更像小学。上课，就是老师进行集中教学活动。下课，就是耍的时间。［游老师］

我们跟他们比起来是没有整天都跟着孩子。我们让孩子自由地玩。有老师管，反正在旁边把他们看好就行了。他们想怎样就怎样。比如滑梯这种比较危险的地方，最多就是纠正他们一下。［田园长］

尽管如此，长江幼儿园的老师们并没有完全否定游戏“教学化”的合理性。在访谈中，她们多次强调农村幼教所面临的现实条件制约着老师们对可能存在的教育契机的把握。比如在软件上，农村幼儿教师的专业水平有限、外出培训机会很少，教师大都不清楚当下幼教领域的新做法、新理念。在硬件上，幼儿园往往缺乏活动经费、缺少必要的活动器材、教玩具等，老师即使有好的想法也不容易实施。

农村和城市不一样，没有那个条件让幼儿在老师带领下玩，没有什么玩具可玩。［游老师］

我们关键是没有这个条件。没什么可耍的。你说下课老师带你去干什么干什么，根本不可能。没有这个条件！农村幼儿园可以说都是这样。［田园长］

但即使在“条件”允许的情况下，“教学化”了的游戏跟幼儿自发的游戏在几位长江幼儿园老师眼里仍是两个不同的概念，在幼儿园中，前者并不能完全替代后者：

（即使可以对游戏做更多的引导）我觉得还是有必要让娃儿自由活动。你整天都把他们控制住不好。活动本来就是他们的天性。有必要让他们自由发展。而且我们自由活动的时候是全园小朋友都在操场上，增加了同伴之间的交流。小娃儿可以向大娃儿学很多东西。……（有时候）不去干涉他们还好些，花样还多些。不信你试一下，他还不一定会按照老师制定的规则做。反而限制了（孩子的游戏）。［田园长］

当被问及“游戏是什么”的时候，这些老师毫不犹豫地认为游戏就是“下课孩子们自己玩”。她们在访谈中并不避讳使用“上课”、“教学”等字眼，乍听上去确实显得有些“小学化”。但有意思的是，正是这看似“小学化”的课程却保障了在园幼儿每天有大量时间自己玩、自由地玩，在资源有限的环境中玩出了许多花样，锻炼出“会玩”的能力。许多接受访谈的城市教师和园长也注意到了该现象，评价长江幼儿园的一日活动体现出“学是学、玩是玩”的特点，儿童具有“会玩”的能力：

虽然这两个老师是小学式的教，但他们也有他们自由的一面。一个是农村自然条件比较好；再个她们不管的时候就是不管，孩子也习惯自己玩，我看他们孩子自己的游戏玩得很好，很主动！而且他们孩子之间同伴交流很自然，跟老师也很亲近。［D园长，上海市区］

包括长江幼儿园的老师在内，与我们交谈过的农村幼儿教师往往一方面认为“课间游戏”是必要的；但另一方面，也会流露出些许的无奈，把如此课程设计归因于“不得已而为之”。农村幼教经费缺乏、资源有限的现状在很大程度上导致了在幼儿园中除集体教学时间外，农村幼儿只能处于一种“放羊”、“自娱自乐” 的状态。 农村幼教工作者的这些认识来自于她们在农村工作和生活的切身体验和感受，它提醒我们切忌将农村幼儿园中儿童的“游戏”自由过于理想化、浪漫化，视之为农村幼儿教师主观上追求的一种教育实践。

游戏观三：“城里的孩子已经不会玩了！”

事实上在我们的访谈中，对长江幼儿园的幼儿能“玩”、会“玩”的现象表示欣赏的城市幼教工作者大有人在。在谈观后感时，大家用得最多的字眼包括：“自然”、“自由”、“娃娃开心”、“快乐”等等。这不仅出乎了我们研究者的预料，而且对许多以前从未亲历过农村幼儿园一日活动的城市老师来说，她们自己也对录像中的某些场景感到意外——“比想像中的要好”或者“比城里还好”！总的来讲，长江幼儿园的孩子们在课间游戏、午后郊游等活动甚至包括上午的集体教学活动中展示出的精神面貌、社会性发展和动作协调能力等，给城市幼儿园老师们留下了印象深刻。不少老师拿录像中的农村孩子跟自己所教的城里孩子做比较，感叹自由游戏的好处。

他们游戏时间多，自己知道怎么玩，我想跟谁玩。不像城里孩子还要老师组织告诉他你不要干什么……我们在游戏活动中也有规则，可以干什么不可以干什么，没有他们那么自由。他们可以想干什么就干什么。［L老师，昆明市区］

每一个可以玩的地方他们都能玩起来！他们玩的这些东西都是我们小时候玩的呀。现在城市的孩子已经不会玩了！ ［M老师,上海市区］

从他们孩子的身上我们可以看到孩子的真实模样。我们上海城市里的孩子已经没有孩子的影子了。整天都被大人包围着。学这个学那个，孩子一天到晚都是很紧张的。现在你要是去问（城里孩子），你开心吗？他这个开心是表面的。内心真的是不开心。孩子不懂怎么来表述而已。他们（录像中）是真的、发自内心的开心！［K老师，上海市区］

玩，是儿童的天性。不用成人教，学龄前儿童也会具有“玩”的能力。换句话说，当儿童自主、自愿地活动时，游戏也就随之产生了。长江幼儿园的孩子们“会玩”的事实不过是证实了这个原本很普通的人性。可不料这个看似简单的现象却引来观众中不少城市幼儿教师的阵阵感叹，甚至心生羡慕。这些老师从录像中看到了她们日常工作中所不常见的游戏场景，即非老师组织但却生动无比的儿童自由游戏。很明显，她们认同此类游戏的价值，不光因为她们看到了身处其中的农村儿童自然、自由、快乐的一面，还因为她们由此回忆起了自己无忧无虑、自由自在的童年。与此同时，她们对现在城市幼儿园中此类游戏的缺乏表示不满，对城市幼儿长此以往的发展表示担心。同样是孩子、同样是儿童游戏，这种历史的、地域的差异原因何在？老师们在讨论中提到以下三种原因：第一，城市家长对安全和卫生习惯的担心，束缚了孩子的手脚，影响了老师对活动的设计和组织，比如，尽可能地降低活动的难度，不进行有挑战性的活动。第二，城市化、工业化使城市里人与人之间的信任感越来越低，孩子缺乏游戏的场地、时间，缺乏人际交往机会，玩的能力得不到锻炼。 第三，经济的发展和物质的丰富产生了副作用，儿童游戏越来越依赖商业化的玩具，儿童的发展受到了这些商业化玩具的限制。

以上归因仅是受访老师们的一些零星感受，其科学性有待未来研究的证实，但从中我们至少可以看到一点共识，那就是：能开心自由游戏的儿童是幸福的。这种幸福的获得不仅需要外界条件，也需要儿童自身能力的培养。只有在和谐的社会大环境和宽容的幼儿园小环境共同保障下，儿童才有可能不仅可以“玩”，而且会“玩”，享受到游戏中真正的自由和乐趣。

结论与反思：教师的游戏观与儿童的自由

研究中，我们发现广大一线幼教工作者对幼儿游戏，特别是幼儿园中儿童的自由游戏，有以下三种看似不同的观点：

一、认为 “教学应该游戏化，幼儿园内几乎一切活动都可以称之为游戏”的教师大多是城市幼儿园教师，但也包括少数接触“先进理念”比较多的农村幼儿教师。比如在贵州和四川等地的偏远农村，因为当地教育部门参与了儿童基金会的培训项目，部分教师有相当多接受“先进理念”培训的机会，他们也持这样的观点。在这些主张“教学游戏化”的老师看来，“小学化”课程和散漫的“放羊”都不能很好地发挥教师应起的作用，有背优质早期教育的初衷。

二、以长江幼儿园教师为代表的大多数农村幼儿教师认为“下课了，就是玩的时间”。虽然在很大程度上这些老师也承认这是农村幼教受制于现有条件不得不如此，但她们心目中“教学”和“游戏”两个概念分得很清楚。在教育实践上，也无意识地贯彻了“玩是玩、学是学”的理念：上课时努力地“教”，下课后让儿童痛痛快快地玩。

三、一批为数不少的城市幼教工作者，包括幼儿教师、园长，甚至大学教授，在看完长江幼儿园录像后纷纷表示儿童反朴归真的自由游戏其实才是儿童游戏的至高境界。农村幼儿在自由游戏中体验到的快乐让人羡慕，可惜的是这样的游戏在城市幼儿园里和城市儿童身上已经越来越少见了。

事实上，这三种游戏观并不是互相排斥的，教师们的想法也不是一成不变的。比如，认为教学应该游戏化的老师，很可能在观看长江幼儿园录像后也能感受到儿童自由游戏的魅力，并承认有时候可以让儿童“自己玩”、教师不要总干涉儿童的游戏。而那些已经完全放手让孩子课间自己玩的农村老师们，也许在接触了教学游戏化的理念后也会对其表示认同，并将在农村幼教条件得到改善的情况下做出“指导”儿童游戏的尝试。至于不少认可儿童自由游戏价值的城市幼儿教师，虽然她们羡慕农村幼儿能玩会玩，但在实际工作中，因为受到种种外在制约，可能并不会向幼儿提供太多完全可以自己玩的机会。这么一来，在实践层面，第三种观念跟第一种观念的持有者做法可能差别并不大。

此外，三种观点中存在的城乡差异是相对而不是绝对的。一名幼儿教师对儿童的自由游戏持有什么样的观点更多地跟她的生活经历、受过的理论培训、工作中面临的实际条件等有关。当城乡差异影响到上述因素的时候（比如农村幼儿教师普遍更少有参加培训的机会、更多地受到物质条件的限制等等），地域差异才间接地对不同地区教师的观念产生作用。

需要强调的是，以上三种游戏观各自都是特定环境下的产物并且在特定的环境中适用，本身并不存在绝对的优劣之分。以前，我们的幼儿教师忽略游戏的教育价值，教学中缺乏“寓教于乐”的方式方法，于是课改提倡教学要游戏化。现在，许多幼儿园在利用游戏组织一日活动方面做得相当不错，甚至有教师认为“幼儿园里一切都是游戏”。这一理念和实践中的变化本身，对我国的幼教发展是具有进步意义的。但在重视游戏、利用游戏来组织教学的同时，我们不能忘记儿童游戏的本质，不能为了教学的目的，牺牲儿童自主的、自由的游戏活动。在反思二十年来幼教课程改革取得的成就和付出的代价时，朱家雄教授曾痛心地指出：“我们强调过游戏的重要性，力求使游戏在幼儿园教育中能占据应有的地位，从而改变幼儿园教育以教师为中心的状况，然而，我们缺少对游戏教育价值的真正理解，在操作层面上泛化甚至异化了游戏，模糊了儿童自己生成的活动与教师预定的活动之间的概念界线，结果使不少幼儿园的‘儿童游戏’演变成了‘游戏儿童’”[6]。 “游戏儿童”的最终结果受害者是儿童。用我们访谈中听到华东师大华爱华教授的一句话来说，就是“我们的孩子是给他自由他不会自由；让他选择他选择不来啦！”

海德格尔说“自由”就是“由自”，不“由他”，即自主、自为，做自己想做的事[7]。我们无意鼓吹绝对的自由，怂恿人做“任何”自己想做的事，因为自由同时也分“消极自由”与“积极自由”。查尔斯·泰勒在《消极自由有什么错》一文中指出“一个在未经疑问的意义上正在做他想做的事情的人并非真的自由”[8]。所以，在真正的自由状态下，一个人不仅能够做“我想要做的事”，还必须有能力去甄别动机、具有实现自己真实愿望的能力。在游戏成为幼教工作者口头禅的今天，我们很有必要反思一下，在我们日常津津乐道的游戏中，儿童到底是在“由自”还是“由他”？没有儿童主体自由的游戏，是不是真正意义上的游戏？

[2] 虽然我们有许多证据可以去证明长江幼儿园的老师们在组织活动过程中其实是考虑了幼儿的身心特点，并没有完全走“小学化”的路子，但因为本文的宗旨并不是要呈现给读者一个“真实”的样本幼儿园，所以我们不会去为长江幼儿园辩护。事实上，观众从录像中获得的信息是有限的，他们据此作出的判断也可能是错误的。但我们研究的初衷不是去讨论观众判断的对错，而是他们对相关教育问题怎么看怎么想。

[2] 王小英.哲学视角下儿童游戏的意义[J].河北师范大学学报（教育科学版）,2004（3）：45-51。

[3] 鄢超云，车艺.教师的安全压力与儿童的幸福[J]. 幼儿教育（教育科学版），2008（7）：6-11。

[4] 中国学前教育研究会编.百年中国幼教.北京: 教育科学出版社, 2003:27.

[5] 黄绍文.幼儿教育小学化现象辨析[J].学前教育研究, 2005(9):10－11.

[6] 朱家雄.瑞吉欧教育经验备受关注的缘由[J].幼儿教育, 2001(6):4-5

[7] 转引自王小英.哲学视角下儿童游戏的意义[J].河北师范大学学报（教育科学版）,2004（3）：45-51。

[8] Charles Taylor. What’s Wrong with Negative Liberty? [C]//A. Ryan, ed., The Idea of Freedom, Oxford University Press, 1979.

民工子弟学校教师 — 等不到花开的园丁

马 丽

自80年代中期户籍控制松动后的中国城乡人口流动，到了90年代初就呈现出家庭迁徙（family migration）的趋势。随着进入城市的流动儿童的增加，教育资源分配和机会平等问题也越来越受到社会各界的关注。但至今，进城民工子女中仍有很大部分无法享受与城市孩子同等的有质量的教育（quality education）。北京、上海等大城市的郊区还经常可以看到很多私人开办的“民工子弟学校”。从可观察到的现象层面看，这类学校存在的问题也都类似：校舍破旧、场地拥挤、教学设施缺乏、师生比低、教师流动性大。在各城市兴起的大学生志愿者活动，也多把爱心传递进了这类学校。但有人可能还不禁问道，为什么民工子弟学校在存在这么多年之后，教学质量仍然没有太多改善？要回答这个问题，我们必须走进民工子弟学校教师这样一个群体。他们是直接影响到几千万民工子女教育的人，但实际上，他们的生存状况直到最近才得到社会的一些关注。

在走访一些民工家庭和民工子弟学校的过程中，笔者发现，家长经常会抱怨学校老师换的太频繁，或者有老师不负责任的情况。有的班级的英语老师可以一学期换三四个不同的人教，新来的人也不知道前面的一位老师教这门课教到哪里了。一些学校因为缺老师，就降低招聘标准，但这样更是陷入一种恶性循环：低学历无教学经验的雇佣教师，往往也是仅仅将这个职业作为进城打工的“跳板”的，一旦找到其他工作，就转行走了。所以怀者“做不长”的心态，这样的老师也不会对孩子负起责任，平时教学散漫，考试时随意给学生高分。这样的情况确实存在，但民工子弟学校里也不乏一些敬业的教师，很多是在农村做过老师或师范毕业的。后来笔者慢慢发现，一些被家长认为“不负责任”的老师，原本也是敬业有抱负的老师。那么，他们的人生又经历了怎样的变化呢？

要了解民工子弟学校教师的生存状况背后的深层因素，需要先对民工子弟学校产生和发展的大背景做个介绍。最初各城市中专门接收民工子女的简易学校，多是以一种自发的社会互助形式出现的，但到了90年代末，更多以盈利为目的的办学者加入，开始了一场无序竞争。由于长期缺乏规范和监督机制，至今大部分可以维持民工子弟学校都是在以非正规的私营企业的形式存在的。在缺乏教育财政支持的情况下，这类学校很难以自筹资金将校舍和师资改进达到教育行政部门的标准，很多学校在办学十几年以后仍然没有获得办学资格审批。但在当前的公立教育系统对民工子女仅仅半开放的情况下，民工子弟学校的存在虽“不合法”，但却被认为是“合理”的，就这样，大多数民工子弟学校还是在没有正式办学许可的情况下被默认存活了下来。

以盈利为目的的办学者为节省成本，在各项开支上都能省就省，雇佣的教师数目都是最精简化的。上海一所民工子弟学校，全校1300多学生，只有近40位老师。而附近的一所公立学校，同样是38位老师，但学生数目只有380多名。北京各民工子弟学校的师生比也类似这种情况。除此之外，因为大部分民工子弟学校的英语、体育、美术和音乐等科目缺乏专业教师，这些课也都分摊到各科老师身上，有的学校甚至也没有开设这些课程。也就是说，仅从要完成的教学任务量来衡量，一位在民工子弟学校的教师的课业负荷，是一位公办教师的四到五倍。一位老教师说，“比起在老家教书，这里压力大多了。在那只用教一个班的语文，这里除了教两个班的语文，还有两个班的生物、体育、思品。大部分老师都是这样。这有是老师流动性大的一个原因，太累了，受不了。”

除了课业负荷超重之外，民工子弟学校学生流动性大，也给老师们的课堂管理带来更多难度。大部分进城农民工家庭都面临长期的就业和住所不稳定的情况，孩子会经常随着父母工作的变动而不得不换学校。另外，由于民工子女至今还没有在城市里参加中考和高考的权利，很多读到六年级或者初中二年级的学生，不得不转回老家学校参加考试。越是在城市里学习优秀的孩子，父母会越倾向于让孩子早些转学回家，可以适应当地的课本，以准备考试。这样出现一种“逆向选择”现象（reversed selection），即成绩好的学生更倾向于选择转走。某校五年级每学期的流动率会达到20％左右。这给很多教师造成很大的挫折感和心理压力。一位老师说，“回老家的都是好学生，这让老师们教得很回信。因为即使你在一个学生身上投入再多，很尽心尽力地教他，但他很快就转学回去了。实在是教得很没有信心，对自己的教学也很没有信心。”学校的制度环境中也缺乏奖励机制，办学者往往是“鸡蛋里挑骨头”似地借机克扣教师工资。这些都增加了在此类学校任教的老师的心理成本，造成教师流动频繁。

对于民工子弟教师而言，工资待遇低、无福利或激励机制、教学任务超负荷、心理压力大是非常普遍的感受。最重要的一点，很多老师说，是觉得自己的工作不受到尊重。工资报酬与付出不相称，又没有和“老板”讨价还价的能力，导致很多老师挫败感很强。在当前的就业环境和物质化价值取向下，越来越多家长的“读书无用论”语调，影响着孩子对于知识的态度。除此之外，很多民工家庭也认识到这类学校与公办学校在师资上的巨大差距，认为这里的教师也就只是和自己一样的“打工的”。对学校质量的不信任，使得他们在看待民工教师的时候，失去了原本对教师职业应有的尊重。一位年轻的男老师提到自己曾经在课堂上尴尬的一幕。在责备一名学生不认真学习之后，这个学生站起来，不屑地问他，“老师，你整天让我们好好学习，我们学好了，就是为了像你这样吗？”

为什么民工子弟学校很难被规范、走向正轨？最根本性的还是体制的缺失。要建立起一个系统的学校管理体制和教师激励机制，是需要投入的，但大部分民工子弟学校仍处于自生自灭状态，没有财政支持，也缺乏质量监管。教师在上岗之前没有培训，在超负荷运转状态下，也没有时间考虑如何提高教学质量，更谈不上去关注每个学生的心理需要。

教师流动和学生的流动都大，是各地民工子弟学校的共同特征，也是削弱教学质量的最关键的一环，很多学校在这样的高流动性状态下维持了很多年。教师流动性大，导致办学者对新进老师更加严格的控制和克扣，又加剧了教师的流动。一切好像陷入一个恶性循环而没有办法改进，最终还是把制度性的恶果转嫁在孩子身上。某老师说，“现在就是‘老板’想规范都规范不起来，像我们这样一大批新老师，都是没有经验的。流动性大的原因，一个是管理，一个是待遇，所以留不住老师。如果一个月工资有一千多，还是会有老师留下来的。老师如果可以带学生到他们毕业，会对每个学生都很了解的。但现在，老师流动性大，对孩子的影响肯定大。一个孩子需要一段时间去适应一个老师的教学方式，老师也需要时间适应和了解学生们。一旦适应好了，学生已经形成了一个习惯，可以跟着这个老师，但到了下个学期，又换了个老师，这样对孩子的适应就会有很大影响。因为他所有的时间都用在适应上了。如果有一两年这样的经历的话，我相信肯定会影响他的学习的，会有一些厌烦和抵触情绪，肯定是会有的。对于老师来说也是一样的道理。”

虽然在访问家长时，听到很多对于教师的意见，但真正走进老师们的生活时，会发现，他们的生活里也满了辛酸和挫折。教师中的大部分人，认为自己的工作只不过是“打工族”中的一种职业，他们对自己的身份认同，首先是“进城民工”，其次才是“教师”。这背后反映出很深的制度性隔离。在社会中被边缘化的感受，已经盖住了“园丁”的光环。一位在农村教过书，之后到各城市打过各类工，又回到民工子弟学校教书的中年女老师说，“很多事情提醒你，在这里你只是一个打工的，家长的一些态度，也让你觉得自己只是个打工的。只有在面对孩子们的时候，我才会觉得自己是一名教师。”

民工教师群体中不乏立志投身教育、改变民工子女教育现状的老师，但他们觉得这条路上很孤单无助，尤其在自己的基本权益也很难得到保障的时候。很多老师对于继续留下来还是离开，都面临一种道德困境：“如果在这样的学校待一段时间，会把整个人都磨掉… 把你所有的志向都磨得一文不值。在这里，看到孩子们进步我也会有些成功的喜悦，和孩子们待久了，也有一些割舍不了的东西，看着他们，就舍不得走。但留下来的话，就被许多的事情打击得不行… 只能是随波逐流。”

一批老师走了，又有一批老师来了。每个民工子弟学校都在上演着同样的故事。走了的人，有的还在惦记着原来教的班里那个懂事好学的小女孩，不知道她是不是转学回老家了呢？不知道她的未来会是怎样的呢？

有关日本教育改革的现场报告（二则）[1]

平馆英明

编者按：

当我们向《周刊星期五》杂志社提出要求翻译和转载有关日本教育改革的这两篇采访报道时，该杂志社的负责人特意叮嘱我们要注明报道最初刊登的时间。日方编辑特意强调这一要求当然有他们特别的用意。自2003年这两篇报道刊登以来的5年期间，对于近年来日本的教育改革，学界已经出现了许多更为深刻的讨论和分析。具体地说，在日本的教育研究领域，已经普遍认识到仅仅从文部科学省的权力压制的角度，无法真正看清这场改革发生和运动的深层原因和特点。1990年代以来伴随着全球化市场经济给日本产业结构带来的冲击和压力，新自由主义不但成为经济、政治改革的主导方向，同时它也成为日本教育改革的主导价值。而重新强调回到爱国主义、集体主义、道德教育也成为支撑新自由主义教育改革的另外一个重要侧面。因此，从“国家—社会”、“行政控制—个体自由”的角度来描述这场改革，不能够充分揭示日本社会的经济结构和教育之间关系及其相互运动。这两篇报道需要被放置在以上的历史框架中来理解，而不是单纯地把它看做是中央使用自身权力肆意地加强对学校课程和教师日常工作的控制与管理。在此特别提请读者注意。

尽管在分析上存在一些偏差，我们认为这两篇报导道所反映的现象仍然对中国的教育改革有所启发。以行政命令的方式自上而下地强制推行的教育改革都存在同样的危险，即压制下属尤其是基层学校行政和教师的不同言论、行动和思想。其结果，教师和学生从教学活动的主人转变为行政管理的对象，学校工作的教育性被冲淡，而行政事务性工作却日益繁琐。对教师而言，这不仅意味着工作负担的加重，更意味着工作意义的逐渐丧失。而人需要在有意义、有成效、创造性的工作中树立自尊并获得社会的尊重。广岛教师的自杀现象也许正是教师们在高压管制的教育改革下为保全自己独立的教育理想和尊严而作出的绝望抗争。由此也可见，工作并不仅仅是养家糊口的营生，也关系着人们生存的意义和人格尊严。难以否认，在中央集权的教育体系中，自上而下的教育改革既有必要也不可避免。那么，摆在我们面前的问题是：什么样的教育改革既能实现正确的教育方针，又能够尊重基层教育人员的独立和自主性，维护他们在教育工作中的自由和尊严？这是我们编译这两篇报道的意图。

（一）教师自杀现象为何增加

——蔓延在教育第一线的精神性疾病

教师自杀能被视作工伤吗？关于20年前发生的一起教师过劳自杀事件的审理正在最高法院进行。

一位教师在20几岁时就不得不结束自己的生命。我们将循着他的足迹揭示如今仍在教育第一线肆虐教师健康的事实。

“有美子，对不起！学校的工作让我感到有些累了。”

1983年1月24日，岩手县釜石市立平田小学教师菊池明德（时年29岁）给妻子留下一封遗书后结束了自己的生命。

这一天是提交道德公开课（定于2月4日举行）的最终指导方案的日子。但明德早上离家后并未前往学校，他失踪了。2周后的2月6日，明德被发现吊死在邻近的小镇的山林里。

明德的妻子有美子在1987年向地方公务员灾害补偿基金岩手县支部提请进行工伤认定手续。她认为明德自杀的原因在于被强制要求以违反他教育理念的方式举行公开课，并因过于繁重的公务而导致其患上了“反应性抑郁症”。

但是第二年，此事被认定为非工伤，在基金支部的审查和其后的再审查申请均被驳回。1992年，有美子向盛冈地方法院提起诉讼，要求撤回非工伤的认定。有美子提起的这一行政诉讼成为了争论教师过劳自杀究竟算不算工伤的第一个案例。

为公开课而烦恼

明德到平田小学赴任是1982年4月的事情。在教师生涯的第7个年头他才首次成为一年级学生的班主任。平田小学被市教委指定为道德课实验小学，1980年度和1981年度这里都举行了道德公开课。当时的校长非常重视道德教育，也已决定在1982年度继续这项教学活动。而定于1983年2月4日举行的公开课，是由明德负责的。

明德的烦恼源于公开课的授课方式。这种方式被称为“平田（小学）方式”，它要求将班上的学生分为“好孩子”、“坏孩子”和“普通孩子”这样三个小组，然后从每个小组抽出部分孩子展开教学活动。一直以来，明德就对这种带有歧视性的教学方式抱有疑问，但公开课直接联系着学校教育活动的评估，因此，必须得拿出点成绩来。在这一沉重的精神负担下，明德从第一学期开始就持续出现头痛、发烧等症状。

进入第二学期后，除了每天8小时的正常工作安排以外，，明德还不得不为郊游、学艺会等之类的学生校外活动操劳。甚至在这期间，他为准备公开课而举办校内研究会，多达26次。，11月份他还同时承担了国语和道德实验课的工作。从这时起，明德每天不得不为研究教材而一直工作到深夜一、两点，无法保证充分的睡眠时间。食欲不振，体重也从57公斤减到了52公斤。妻子劝他去医院他也不听，对任何事都只是说“等道德公开课结束之后再说吧”。这时，他流露出自己在道德教育实践方面的苦恼：“（把孩子）分成上中下三等的事情我做不来。”据说，到了第三学期，明德的反应明显变得迟钝起来。当被问起开学典礼的情况时，他也只是回问“嗯，？”。

1月22日（周六），也就是他失踪的两天前，校长要求明德对教案进行修改。之后，有同事曾看到他一个人孤零零地站在楼梯间。24日（周一），明德带着前一天才重新推敲过的教案失踪了。

虽然明德失踪了，但2月4日的公开课仍然由别的老师代理举行了。从校方这种冷漠的处理方式也可猜想得到，公开课的成功才是学校唯一的目的所在。

前年的一审判决指出明德“被强制进行不合本意的公务”和“因过重的公务而导致患上抑郁症并最终自杀”，承认了自杀与工作之间的关系，有美子胜诉了。这是一个对教师职业职质的方面给予高度重视的划时代的判决。

但是，去年2月仙台高等法院推翻了一审判决。高法判决认为，“也曾有毫无经验的教师完成过这样的道德课教案，所以，无法断定此事对明德一人来说是过重的负担”。换言之，法院的判断采用了“同事标准”。可是这种关系到孩子人格发展的教师职责和教师精神上的苦恼真的能用所谓的“同事基准”来衡量吗？

去年明德去世后的第19个年头，，釜石市又有一位中学教师（30多岁，男性）在家中上吊自杀。他生前曾被诊断出患有“不安抑郁症状”。教师的精神疾患问题，现在变得愈发严重了。

管理式教育的牺牲者

根据文部科学省的调查发现，因精神性疾患病休的教师，在1990年时为1017人，2001年则达到了2503人，是1990年的2倍多，占到全体病休人数的48%（请参照图表1）。

另一方面，教师的在职人数在这10年里减少了7万多人，因患精神性疾患而病休的比率正在进一步增加。

太田裕幸（50多岁，假名）在当上中学教务主任后不久，就出现了抑郁症状。在当教师的时候，即使是因学生的暴力，被打得肋骨骨折，太田也从没有消沉过。对他来说，每天能够有时间面对孩子，已经成为他工作的主要的支撑。

太田是一个热心的教师，在校长的劝说之下选择了进入管理层。在就任教务主任前的进修期间，他就曾被要求要有做好一名管理层人员的思想准备，必须要贯彻“国旗、国歌”规定，要明令禁止教师在自己家中进修等等。太田当时就感觉到了这些要求与自己的教育理念之间的巨大差距，作为一名教育工作者，他无法接受这些教育行政的强制性要求。

当上教务主任后，太田没有了与学生面对面交流的机会。教务主任的工作，主要负责校务分工中无法划分的繁杂事务。周六周日的时候也多忙于处理那些与教学活动基本无关的事务——像联系本学区、或家长教师协会（PTA）等校外组织的活动——基本都放在假日期间。

实施人事考核制度之后，太田经常为教师的等级评定感到痛苦。他渐渐无法入眠，并开始服用精神安定剂。

太田这样说道：“我不知道该如何（根据成绩）给老师分级。我又没有具体接触过老师们的教学方法，要分级的话就只能根据印象来决定。我无法忍受（由于我的评定而导致）一部分好教师遭到不公平对待。”

大概在赴任后的第2年，太田的精神方面出现了问题，怀疑是患上了抑郁症。他对外界事物变得冷漠，脸上的笑容也消失了。在工作上，虽然还可以轻松地完成一些简单的的文件处理，，但是像写文章这样的工作已经完全干不了了。他已经无法进行思考了。最后，他眼中的所有东西都开始变成了深棕色。

太田被确诊为抑郁症而住院后，他的痛苦不但没有减轻反而更加深了。他开始认为：“（都是因为我的原因而导致）校长的负担加重。如果校长病倒的话，那不就是我的责任么”。因为回归工作岗位的不安和焦躁感曾一度使他陷入到了精神错乱的状态。最终，太田花了整整1年的时间才重新回到了工作岗位。现在，他离开了教务主任的职位，作为一个教师回到了讲台上。

“（回到第一线以后）我感受到了（教育的）快乐。缺乏自由和责任感的学校就不可能有好的教育。但现在什么地方都只是从上到下的管理了……”

这是受尽管理式教育折磨的太田的原话。

在剥夺了教师酌情处理的权利的管理式教育的下面，绝对无法产生真正自由的教育。而这种工作环境已经成为诱发教师“抑郁”的温床。

教师的健康是一个严重问题

目前社会上有关“‘（因精神疾患）病休的教师都是不称职的’的说法是极其错误的。实际上、很多教师都存在有‘只要付出努力什么问题都能解决’的某种优等生意识。（基本上所有前来就诊的教师）满脑子都装着孩子们的事情，他们也都为学生和家长所信任。所以，不认真、不称职的教师是不会得病的。”

说这话的是对教师的精神疾患问题非常清楚的大分协和医院的丹生圣治医师。据丹生说，目前像这类认真的教师中的决大多数都处于慢性疲劳的状态。教师们对于即使是实际上不可能完成的工作也尽量努力去做，这本身与鼓励教师们努力工作的学校特质不无关系。正因如此，越是认真且责任心强的教师就越容易患上精神疾病。

比方说，即便医生坚持要教师患者静养，告诉患者“我给你开诊断证明，你要好好休息”，患者也会说“写完成绩通知书之前没法休息”并会一直工作下去，直到累倒住院。这种例子并不罕见。它们多数是因为患者陷入了失感觉症状，连自身的疲劳都无法感觉到了。

因此，教师的治疗是很花时间的。通常6个月能完全治愈的就算是较短的了，有些甚至需要2年的时间。一些症状严重的住院患者在最开始接受治疗的一个月里，基本上都是靠服用药物每天在床上睡15个小时。这也证明了他们的疲劳程度。丹生医生通过治疗让患者们了解自身体力的极限，同时也培养他们“感到吃不消就休息的勇气”。

慢性疲劳在教师人群中蔓延的最重要的背景之一就是教师们变得越来越忙碌。从去年学校统一开始实施双休制以后，原本6天的教学工作量被压缩到5天，这直接导致了课程安排过于紧张。这样学校为了保证教师与学生们之间的接触，就往往很难确保教师们有足够休息和休假的时间。教师们在学校里的时候一站就是一整天，有时甚至连喝水的功夫都没有。而且由于写报告和开会等工作基本上都被安排在学生放学之后，以至于教师们的工作无法在上班时间内完成。因此，大多数的教师们只得将备课和批改作业等工作都带回家处理，这样教师长时间劳动也就变成了一种惯例。此外，他们在周末时还不得不准备下周教案和教材研究等工作。

日本教职员工会（日教组）以去年10月为对象进行的调查显示，除了《给特法》[2]以外的加班时间为平均每人10小时，带回家的工作为平均每人9小时。而针对是否能够保证休息时间的问题，有74.4%的人都回答“不能保证”。

另外教师们的睡眠时间也未能得到充分保证。据全日本教职员工工会（全教）调查显示，教师平均每天的睡眠时间（以一个星期为基准）为6小时11分钟，大约有4成被调查者的睡眠时间达不到6小时。更有8成以上的被调查者表示感觉到了工作方面的“不安、烦恼和紧张”。

因睡眠不足等原因而导致从学校的楼梯上摔倒并骨折等的事故也不少。而且，由于没有代课老师，任课老师不管多么劳累，就算想休息也休息不了。在这种情况下，最近，因身心俱疲而选择提前退休的教师也增加了。甚至还有一位女教师在退休一个月后就因脑溢血而去世。

一位小学教师（50多岁，男性）说：“还有突然在教室或卫生间病倒的。去年，仅仅是我所知道的就有4位老师去世了。这些绝非与己无关。”在全教的调查当中也有约58%的教师声称有着对于过劳死的不安。

损害教师健全的精神和肉体的劳动环境是异常的。从这一状况可以看出日本政府的意图，他们希望能够让教师们像骡马一样拼命地工作，他们还希望通过这一方式让教育最终变成自己所希望的那样。

关于菊池明德自杀事件是否属于工伤的审判，其舞台已因去年2月有美子的上诉而转移到了最高法院。

“我不希望像我这样痛苦的感受再发生到别人的身上。”

这是同样身为教师的有美子的原话。

工伤认定的历史，同时也是为数众多的牺牲者的历史。即便只是为了就教师们所处的严苛劳动环境而敲响警钟，也不能让明德的死没有意义。

图表2：你有辞职离开学校的想法吗？

* 0.1% 没有回答

没有46.7%

有时有39.7%

经常有13.5%

由辞职想法的教师中间：

（二）广岛教育之殇

——接连出现教师、校长自杀事件的教育第一线

今年3月，到尾道一所小学赴任的民间人士校长[3] 自杀身亡。

自从1999年世罗高中的校长自杀以来，广岛县已经有12位教职员工自杀身亡。

隐藏在这些现象的背后，是由文部科学省所强制推行的纠偏指导。

广岛教育的现状，就是未来整个日本教育第一线的缩影。

今年3月9日，是广岛县尾道市立高须小学庆德和宏校长（时年56岁）自杀的日子。他是因为过度劳累而自杀的。

自去年3月就任以来，这位来自民间的校长，由于极度繁重的工作，以至于刚刚才就任一个半月他就被诊断患上了抑郁症。据广岛县教职员工工会（广教组）的调查显示，学校管理人员的加班时间月平均超过150小时。在两位教务主任相继因为过度劳累病倒的情况下，完成市教委要求学校提交的数量多达370份的书面报告的工作，就不得不压在庆德一人身上了。他在自杀之前每天平均加班时间达到了7小时16分钟。

因为媒体的大量报道，人们对庆德校长的悲剧依然记忆犹新。但就在半年前，同样在尾道市，一位中学教师因为疲劳至死的事实却几乎不为人所知。在教育改革的呼声下，被“忙碌”折磨地疲惫不堪，心力交瘁的不止庆德校长一人。

在学生面前倒下

尾道市立栗原中学的教师西川修（时年54岁）于去年9月因急性脑溢血去世。西川工作的信条是“没有充分的时间和自由，就不可能有好的教育”，周围的同事都非常信任他。西川认为在当下的教育管理体制下面，根本无法实现理想的教育。，他说“光靠管理没办法培养孩子成材。而现在的学校已经没有这样的时间和能力来实现这个课题了。。”西川本来已经决定今年3月份提前退休。

就在去世之前，西川作为二年级班主任，他一边的担任了5个班的国语课，一边还负责承担了学生指导、保健主事[4]修学旅行等教学之外的工作。

从上一年度(2002年度:译者注)开始，由于新学习指导要领的颁布与实施，全国各个学校都改为五天教学，学校课程安排得非常紧张。与此同时在尾道市的中小学校，书写教案（包括年度指导计划和每周的学习指导计划）的工作，成为教师们必须完成的一项强制性义务。而向上级提交名目繁多的书面材料也成为教师工作中的一项沉重负担。

此外，尾道市自行实施的教育改革――《尾道教育计划21》也于这一年度正式启动。这一改革可以说是全国教育改革的翻版，其目的是要将尾道市(的)义务教育提升到全国最高水平。为此尾道市相继推出以下的改革举措，如要求学校开展体现各校特色的“一校一研究”活动和以“职场体验学习”为内容的综合学习，规定学校必须定期开办“道德公开课”，同时提出为了切实提高学生知识水平和能力，要求学校必须参加“全国标准诊断性学力检查。由于这些改革措施对学校的要求，使得各学校之间竞争加剧，教育第一线的工作愈加繁忙。

由于新学习指导要领缩短了国语课的教学时间，加上西川直到4月1日新学期开始才拿到新教材。在未对教材进行熟悉和准备的情况下，就不得不仓促地开始新学期教学，，[5]这些都让他感到了极大的困难和压力。此外，为了准备“职场体验学习”等新的学习内容，从4月份以来，他一直忙于参加各种教学会议不曾间断。

进入第二学期以后，西川又因为运动会以及修学旅行等的准备工作而忙得不可开交。运动会的排练全是在酷暑中进行的，从那时起，西川开始抱怨头痛和颈椎痛，口臭的症状也变得严重了。他带回家的工作也比往常增多了，。就在倒下的前几天，西川一边要批改200个学生作文，一边还要忙着筹画学生的修学旅行。“好累啊，累死了！”开始成为他的口头禅。西川的家人劝其请假休息，他没接受，只是说“到修学旅行的说明会结束之前肯定不可能”。去世的前一天，西川在去班里上课的时候摔倒在楼梯上。有同事回忆说，在那之后看见他捡粉笔的动作变得极其缓慢。

9月26日也就是西川在学校摔倒的第二天，学校在体育馆里为学生和家长召开修学旅行说明会。会议刚开始没几分钟，西川就突然倒下了，等被送到医院抢救时他整个人已经陷入了昏迷状态。

西川在众多学生面前倒下，这对于学校的老师们来说是一个不小的打击。但据当时同事回忆说，“在一星期以后学校就恢复了往常的样子，就像什么都没发生过似的”。同事的这番话也许可以让我们看到一个事实，那就是学校的老师们因为工作的繁忙而根本没时间沉浸在感伤之中。

连内心的自由都没有

“我要是两年前（2000年）辞职就好了。现在，自己所想的教育根本无法实行(这不就是说，让年纪大干不动的人滚蛋吗！”

西川曾经对身边的人这样说过。这几句话将广岛的教育现状表现得淋漓尽致。

广岛的高层行政管理人员和教师中，未到年龄就提前退休的人越来越多（请参照图1）。其原因正如西川所说：“自己所想的教育根本无法实行了”。比如说，因为书写、提交教案的强制要求使得教师们的工作被牢牢地束缚在学习指导要领的范围之内。更糟糕的是．，就像企业搞的业绩竞争一样，所有的教学内容都被转换成了数字目标，。学校逐渐变得像工厂一样，原本可由教师根据实际情况酌情处理的教育也无法持续下去了。

图1. 中小学阶段提早退休和正常退休的比例 (广岛县为例)

依据广岛县教委调查所制

广岛县被作为教育强制管理的对象，主要是源于1998年当时的文部省提出的的纠偏指导。因为当时县内的福山市的部分学校，将他们课程表上的“道德课”和“国语课”改为“人权课”和“日语课”。文部省认为这种表述学习指导要领和教育法规的要求，勒令广岛县教委今后3年于县内的学校开展纠偏工作，并将情况向上级汇报。纠偏指导涉及教学内容和学校管理两个方面，共13个项目。[6]

长期以来，广岛县的教育主要包括两个部分，一是作为历史上曾遭受过原子弹轰炸的城市而开展的“和平教育”，另一个是为了杜绝部落歧视的“同和教育”。这也是教育行政自己与各种团体携手推行并予以确认的方针。然而，纠偏指导开始后，县教委却一改往日的立场，认为“那些都是与教职员工团体、同和教育研究团体以及其他各运动团体交涉过程中不得不作出的妥协和让步，由此才造成教育的中立性受到侵害”。自此，“同和教育”也被认为是一种偏向教育。[7]

首先，作为管理层的校长的权限被强化了。教职员工会议成为了校长的辅助机关，上情下达的命令系统被逐渐强化起来。甚至有校长宣称“那些不遵从我意见的人没必要留在学校”，这使得民主式的学校管理变得困难起来。据有的教师透露，甚至有校长在发工资单的时对教师露骨地说：“你还是辞职算了！。”教师们之间的合作的关系也受到影响，，每个人都被驱使着争先恐后地向管理层表忠心。

纠偏指导是一种“对于不听话的人不惜给予处分”的强权性的行为，管理和统制成为了向文部科学省效忠的证明。比如说毕业仪式和入学仪式上对于悬挂国旗和齐唱国歌的贯彻问题。县教委在发给各校校长的实施报告书当中，要求对于诸如“国旗是否悬挂在讲坛的正面”、“齐唱国歌时的歌声是否响遍了会场”等具体问题进行汇报。甚至在《校长保有资料》中还有针对仪式时不起立的教师的处理手册。就是这样，广岛的公立学校在悬挂国旗和齐唱国歌方面的实施率达到了100%。

事实上，有校长甚至给在齐唱《君之代》时没有起立的孩子家里打过电话。还有的是将教师们唱歌的情形拍下来，检查他们究竟有没有开口唱歌。据说有的地方甚至还有检查教师言行的监视体制，曾有家长教师协会[8]相关人员突然进入教室对教师的言行横加指责：“你就是那个在齐唱《君之代》的时候没起立的老师。像你小子这样的人能给别人上课吗？！”就是这个“日丸旗、君之代”问题，害得世罗高中的石川敏活校长自杀身亡。

在广岛县，剥夺教师内心自由、几乎让人无法喘气的管理式教育被贯彻得非常彻底。但这仅仅是广岛一地的特殊问题吗？

无视孩子们存在的教育改革

“（广岛教育）会成为整个日本教育改革的试金石。国家在推进教育改革的时候，和平教育被视为是障碍，同和教育也被认为必须废除。”

说这话的是广教组的石岗修总书记。很多教师都指出，现在广岛被日本政府视为全国教育改革的试验台和突破口。

日本政府为了修改教育基本法，目前正在准备着手进行彻底的教育改革。文科省在接受了教育改革国民会议的建议之后，提出了《21世纪教育新生计划》改革方案。方案充分显示出政府要将此次教育改革作为一项全民运动推行的热情，该计划认为“过去由于过度尊重个人而导致轻视‘集体’的倾向越来越明显，（略）因过分的平等主义导致教育出现平均、划一的倾向，（略）因材施教的问题也长期受到轻视”。方案的基本思想就是希望将筛选和竞争的原理引入到教育中来。《尾道教育计划21》提出要针对学校实施教育评估制度等，这些可以算是全国性教育改革的前奏。

那么教育第一线变得如何了呢？另一个教职员工团体——全广岛教职员工工会（全教广岛）——的总书记金谷贤二对此回答说：

“纠偏指导和（广岛的）教育改革的特点，就是从一种应然的角度来讨论教育，却无视现实中孩子们。我们该讨论的难道不是怎样才能把广岛的孩子们培养好这个问题吗?”

教师们被迫卷入学校间的竞争，数字达标的竞争当中，他们无法真正关注眼前的孩子。为了完成那些数字指标，教师们不得不对孩子们采取机械的、管理的教育模式。

此外，县里和市里下达的大量的书面任务也让教师们忙得晕头转向。据说现在学校里，衡量老师工作能力的标准已经成为，如何在短的时间内，既能维持班级的教学活动，又能够承担更多的事务。广教组的石岗书记长这样说道：“学校的教师们整天忙着处理堆积如山的报告，根本没有时间考虑自己的本职工作教育。孩子们则成了一堆无暇顾及的‘工作’

现在的情况是即使孩子们到老师那里问问题，也只能听到这样的回答“这种问题上课的时候再问”、“我现在很忙，没办法给你解答”。

工作的忙碌同时也导致了教师们精神健康方面的问题，这一点从广岛县教师病休人数的年度变化上也可以看出来（请参照图2）。与1998年度纠偏指导导入以前相比，接受指导之后出现精神性疾病的人数明显增加。福山市的某小学，去年一年，15名教师中就有6人因患了精神性疾病离职休养。据说有的班级半年内换过4个班主任。

前年4月，某县立高中负责升学和就业指导的教师A自杀身亡。“断送掉（学生的）希望的行为不能被称为教育。至今为止（我们作为教师而）做出的努力究竟算什么？你们太冷酷了。我不干了！”

A是在决定学生升级的成绩会议上说的这番话，几天后，他就自杀了。当时会上，围绕一个学生升留问题，教师之间出现了意见分歧。本来这个学生也只要再补习一天就可以升级，但一派意见坚持要按规定让该生留级，A的自杀是对这种只知道死守陈规的意见的一种抗议。A去世9个月后，就在这所高中，另一位长期病休的教师也自杀了。

根据广教组的调查，自1999年以来，广岛县内已有12人自杀。其中校长5人、副校长1人、教职员工6人。

纠偏指导下的行政管理和统制已经使得不少教师选择自杀、或自动离职。接受纠偏指导以后，广岛的教育改革逐渐成为、以“竞争”和“筛选”等价值为主导原理的、新一轮国家教育改革的试验台。它的实质是在所谓的“教育自由化”名义下，让所有的教师都疲于奔命。忽视现实中孩子们成长的广岛教育改革，将成为未来整个日本教育的“缩影”。

图2.“文部省纠偏指导”开始前后的各年度离职者人数比较

（注）上图中显示了广岛县和广岛市的病休人数以及病休者中精神疾病患者的人数和比例。离职者人数包括了从前一年度开始离职的人员以及该年度开始离职的人员。（资料提供者：广教组）

（王宗瑜译）

An English version is available on Japan Focus at http://japanfocus.org/_Hiratate_Hideaki-Teacher_Suicides_and_the_Future_of_Japanese_Education. We’d like to take this opportunity to express our gratitude to Professor Mark Selden and Japan Focus for their warm support for the Chinese translation of these articles.

[2] 全称为《关于国立及公立义务教育诸学校教职员工的收入等的特别措施法》。其中规定只能在如下情况下才能要求教职员工加班：（1）关于学生的实习指导的业务；（2）关于学校活动的业务；（3）关于学生的教育实习指导的业务；（4）关于教职员工会议的业务；（5）在自然灾害等必需的场合里从事必要的业务时。也就是说，只有在临时或者紧急并不得不为之的情况下才能要求加班。（若是公立学校教职员工则不包括第3条）

[3] 所谓民间人士校长，就是指以前未曾有过与教育相关的工作经历而在公立或国立的小学、初中、高中或者中等教育学校等任职的校长——译注。另，以下出现译者注释处将标以“译注”二字，原文注释不另行标明。

[4] 所谓保健主事，就是根据日本的学校教育法施行规则第22条第4款的规定负责对学校的保健活动进行企划和调整的教员——译注。

[5] 日本的财政年度是从当年的4月1日开始，到第二年的3月31日结束的。学年的开始和结束日期与此相同——译注。

[6] 教育内容方面：（1）毕业仪式和入学仪式时升国旗、齐唱国歌；（2）人权学习的内容；（3）道德课的名称及其指导内容；（4）国语的课程表；（5）小学音乐课时关于国歌《君之代》的指导；（6）课程安排数量及每堂课的时间；（7）关于指导摘要的填写。

学校管理运营方面：（1）关于教员的勤务状况以及勤务时间的管理；（2）关于主任等的任命时期及人选；（3）主任津贴的筹集；（4）职员会议的实际运营等；（5）负责学校运营的校长与教职员工团体各校分会之间的协议书等的情况；（6）县教委对于公立学校的管理运营的配合情况。

[7] 即思想意识倾向某一方面的教育——译注。

[8] Parent-Teacher Association——译注。

目录

i 刊首语

1 历史上的中国和中国历代疆域的历史 谭其骧

11 中华民族的多元一体格局 费孝通

33 中华民族是一个 顾颉刚

40 中国民族史扩展阅读书目

41 浅议“自然—社会”二元对立 – 致芦笙信 王 丹

附：儿童与自然 林芦笙

54 我们需要承受些什么 韦天钰

61 苏霍姆林斯基教育思想专题征稿启事

63 本刊征稿启事

Table of Content

i Preface

1 China in History and the History of Territories of Chinese Dynasties

TAN Qixiang

11 The Pattern of Diversity in Unity of the Chinese Nation

FEI Xiaotong

33 Chinese are of One Nation

GU Jiegang

40 A Short Reading List on the Ethnic History of China

41 On the Binary of “Nature/Society” – A Letter to Lusheng

WANG Dan

Appended: Children and the Nature

LIN Lusheng

54 What Do We Need to Endure?

WEI Tianyu

61 Call for Papers: A Special Topic on Educational Thoughts of V. A. Sukhomlinskii

63 Positions: Dialogues on Education Call for Submissions

刊首语

三月以来，西藏骚乱、圣火传递、汶川国难，国内外人事天灾接连不断，我们也不由自主地为之而揪心。延误了编辑事务，恳请读者见谅！

随着火炬在世界各国的传递，欧美、日本、韩国、甚至南非等政府、媒体和部分民众对西藏问题的无知、误解、歪曲，及其傲慢粗鄙的反华辱华言论，让国内外的中国人—尤其是对西方的自由、民主口号抱有浪漫幻想的中国人—疑惑、惊异，继而转为愤怒。而海外华人在西藏问题和维护祖国领土完整的大是大非中所表现出的空前团结，也让欧美各国的政府、媒体和知识界感到震惊。

西藏问题牵连着跨越一个半世纪的殖民主义、冷战、和全球化等历史，其广度和深度非三言两语能尽其详。但，至关紧要的是，在驳斥所谓“人权”名义下的“民族自决论”的同时，我们不得不自问：我们应该怎样理解西藏问题？更大一点，应该如何理解少数民族与汉民族的关系？如果西藏和中国既不是西方的“反面”，也不是西方的“想象”，它们到底是什么？我们应当如何从文化、从领土的意义上理解和定义“中国”？

本期转载了费孝通、谭其骧和顾颉刚三位先生关于中国各民族迁徙融合、中国历代政权和领土的研究和理解。“中华民族作为一个自觉的民族实体，是近百年来中国和西方列强对抗中出现的，但作为一个自在的民族实体则是几千年的历史过程所形成的”（费孝通），“很多少数民族对我们中国历史发挥了很大的作用”（谭其骧），因此，“中华民族是一个”（顾颉刚），中国“是各族人民包括边区各族所共同缔造的”（谭其骧）。谭先生特别强调，“我们一定要分清楚汉族是汉族，中国是中国，中原王朝是中原王朝，这是不同的概念”，“我们绝不能把中国看成汉族的中国”。从这些论述可以看出，中国历史形成的多元一体格局，以及互不等同的民族—领土—政权概念，同西方现代的单一民族的国家架构和政治知识体系是格格不入的。同时，西藏问题和中国的统一问题绝不仅仅只是中国内部汉族和少数民族之间的问题；它不断地返回清末以降一百多年来复杂而沉重的反帝反殖民的民族解放运动，不断地要求我们审视自己同西方的关系、确认自己的身份、并认识自己在世界政治格局中的位置。

了解自己的历史、现状和位置，是不同文化不同观点相互理解、沟通、争锋和矫正的基点。这一过程中，澄清历史事实和传播相关知识对我们的自我了解、认同和反省有着极其重大的意义。在此转载三位先生的旧文，并附上一个简短的扩展阅读书目，期待引起更多读者对民族历史的重视，为我们理解自己和理解世界开启另一扇大门。

我们同相关出版社联系过转载版权的问题，但未有回音。如见本文，请同我们联系以便协商版权相关事宜。

《立场》编辑小组

2008年6月

《立场》2008年第2期 页1-10

历史上的中国和中国历代疆域[1]

谭其骧

[原文]编者按：这是谭其骧先生在1981年5月下旬召开的“中国民族关系史研究学术座谈会”上的讲话，曾得到与会者的极大重视和高度评价。本刊将讲话发表于此。题目为作者所加，内容作者做了一些修改。

翁独健同志要我在这次会议期间在大会上讲一通，我说，我不是民族史专家，有什么好说的？他说，不要你讲别的，只要你讲一讲你们在编绘《中国历史地图集》时是怎样划定各个历史时期的中国的范围的；也就是说，对历史上同时存在的许多国家地区和民族，你们是如何区别中外的？哪些算中国，哪些不算，标准是什么？他既然提了这样具体的要求，我作为《中国历史地图集》的主编，就不便推辞了。所以今天下午我在此向诸位汇报一下我们在这套图集里是如何处理这个问题的，就把这个讲话命名为谈“历史上的中国和中国历代疆域”吧！诸位听了如果认为我们的处理办法由不合理、不妥当之处，欢迎在明天小组会上提出来大家展开讨论。

《中国历史地图集》的编绘工作开始于1955年春。开始只要求把杨守敬的《历代舆地图》予以“重编改绘”，范围准备一仍杨图之旧，那时还没有接触到历史上中国的范围这个问题。杨图个时代都只画中原王朝的直辖版图，除前汉一册附有一幅西域图外，其余各册连王朝的羁縻地区都不画，更不要说与中原王朝同时并立的各边区民族政权的疆域了。所以杨守敬所谓《历代舆地图》，起春秋讫明代，基本上都只画清代所谓内地18省范围以内的建置，不包括新疆、青、藏、吉、黑、内蒙古等边区。编绘工作开始没多久，我们就感觉到以杨图范围为我们的图的范围这种想法是不行的。新中国的历史学者，不能再学杨守敬的样儿仅仅以中原王朝的版图作为历史上中国的范围。我们伟大的祖国是各族人民包括边区各族所共同缔造的，不能把历史上的中国同中原王朝等同起来。我们需要画出全中国即整个中国历史的地图来，不应只画秦、汉、隋、唐、宋、元、明等中原王朝。随后我们就作出决定：图名改为《中国历史地图集》，范围要包括各个历史时期的全中国。怎样确定各个时期的全中国范围，从此便成为我们不得不反复慎重考虑的一个首要问题。

我们是如何处理历史上的中国这个问题呢？我们是拿清朝完成统一以后，帝国主义侵入中国以前的清朝版图，具体说，就是从18世纪50年代到19世纪40年代鸦片战争以前这个时期的中国版图作为我们历史时期的中国的范围。所谓历史时期的中国，就以此为范围。不管是几百年也好，几千年也好，在这个范围之内活动的民族，我们都认为是中国史上的民族；在这个范围之内所建立的政权，我们都认为是中国史上的政权。简单的回答就是这样。超出了这个范围，那就不是中国的民族了，也不是中国的政权了。

为什么作出这样的决定？我们的理由是这样：

首先，我们是现代的中国人，我们不能拿古人心目中的“中国”作为中国的范围。我们知道，唐朝人心目中的中国，宋朝人心目中的中国，是不是这个范围？不是的。这是很清楚的。但是我们不是唐朝人，不是宋朝人，我们不能以唐朝人心目中的中国为中国，宋朝人心目中的中国为中国，所以我们要拿这个范围作为中国。

这还要从“中国”两个字的意思讲起。“中国”这两个字的含义，本来不是固定不变的，是随着时代的变化而变化的，随着时代的发展而发展的。且不提《诗经》等古籍中的“中国”是什么意思，简单说起来，拿“中国”两个字表示我们国家的主权所达到的范围，这个观念是鸦片战争之后才形成的。在这以前的“中国”二字，在各种场合有各种样子的用法。远的我们不讲，鸦片战争以后的初期，这个观念还没有完全固定下来。据一个例子，魏源写《圣武记》所用的“中国”，有时候是符合现在的概念的，譬如他讲到蒙古，把蒙古算中国，俄国算外国；讲到西藏，把西藏算中国，印度算外国。但有的时候，他还采用一种老观念，把18省同新疆、西藏、蒙古对立起来，只把18省叫中国。有的明清著作中，甚而至于因为作者本人跑到西南的贵州、广西少数民族地区，他作笔记就把贵州、广西这一带的少数民族地区不看作中国，把黄河流域、长江流域的内地看作中国，“中国”两个字，按照现在的用法，形成是很晚的。鸦片战争以后的初期还没有完全形成，基本上到晚清时候才形成。讲到“中国”就是表示我们国家的主权所达到的范围，这是鸦片战争后经过了几十年才逐渐形成的。

我们再回头来讲，我们是现代人，我们不能以古人的“中国”为中国。这不是说我们学习了马列主义才这样的，而是自古以来就是这样的，后一时期就不能拿前一个时期的“中国”为中国。据几个例子：春秋时候，黄河中下流的周王朝、晋、郑、齐、鲁、宋、卫等，这些国家他们自认为是中国，他们把秦、楚、吴、越堪称夷狄，不是中国。这就是春秋时期的所谓“中国”。但是这个概念到秦汉时候就推翻了，秦汉时候人所谓“中国”，就不再是这样，他们是把秦楚之地也看作中国的一部分。这就是后一个时期推翻了前一个时期的看法。到了晋室南渡，东晋人把十六国看作夷狄，看成外国。到了南北朝，南朝把北朝骂成索虏，北朝把南朝骂成岛夷，双方都以中国自居。这都是事实。但唐朝人已经不是这样了，唐朝人把他们看成南北朝，李延寿修南北史，一视同仁，双方都是中国的一部分。同样，宋朝也把辽、金、夏都看成是外国，堪称夷狄。但是元朝人已经不这样了，已经把辽、金、夏跟宋朝一样看成“中国”。元朝人已经不用宋朝的看法了，难道我们还要作宋朝人？所以我们说现代人不能以古人的“中国”为中国。后一代的人把前一代的人的概念否定，不采用前一代人的概念，这是由来已久，自古而然的，没有什么奇怪。我们现在当然不应该再以东晋人自居，在以宋代人自居。总而言之，我们是现代人，不能以古人的“中国”为中国。

第二个问题。我们既不能以古人的“中国”为历史上的中国，也不能拿今天的中国范围来限定我们历史上的中国范围。我们应该采用整个历史时期，整个几千年来历史发展所自然形成的中国为历史上的中国。我们认为18世纪中叶以后，1840年以前的中国范围是我们几千年来历史发展所自然形成的中国，这就是我们历史上的中国。至于现在的中国疆域，已经不是历史上自然形成的那个范围了，而是这一百多年来资本主义列强、帝国主义侵略宰割了我们的部分领土的结果，所以不能代表我们历史上的中国的疆域了。为什么说清朝的版图是历史发展自然形成的呢？而不是说清帝国扩张侵略的结果？因为历史事实的确是这样，清朝的版图的确是历史发展自然形成的。我们跟沙俄不同，沙俄在16世纪以前，和乌拉尔山以东的西伯利亚中亚细亚没有什么关系，16世纪以后，向东侵略、扩张，才形成现在这么大的版图。但是清朝以前，我们中原地区跟各个边疆地区关系长期以来就很密切了，不但经济、文化方面很密切，并且在政治上曾经几度和中原地区在一个政权统治之下。东北地区在唐朝时候已经建立了若干羁縻都督府、羁縻州。到辽、金时代版图已东至日本海，北至外兴安岭，经过元朝直到明朝的奴尔干都司，都是如此。北方也如此，蒙古高原上的匈奴在西汉时跟汉朝打得很热闹，最后匈奴还是投降了汉朝，甚而至于到东汉初年还入居汉王朝的版图之内。唐朝，从唐太宗灭了突厥颉利可汗、灭了薛延陀、灭了车鼻可汗之后，一度统治整个蒙古高原，远达西伯利亚南部，几十年之后突厥才复国，元朝的时候，蒙古高原是元朝的岭北行省。在西北方面也是如此，西汉设西域都护府，唐设安西、北庭都护府，元曾经置阿力麻里、别失八里行中书省、宣慰司等等。虽然一般都不是连续的，但断断续续好几次，都跟中原地区在政治上属于一个政权。至于经济、文化关系，那就更紧密。这个长期的经济、文化、政治的关系，逐渐发展下来，越来越密切。我们很赞成前几天翁独健同志讲的一段话，我们历史上中原王朝跟边疆少数民族的关系到底是什么关系？主流是什么？是和平共处？还是打仗？我们看不必去深究它，确实有的时期是很好的，和平共处，有的时期是打仗，有的时期打仗还打得很凶。但是，总的关系是越来越密切。我看这一点是谁也不能否定的。随着历史的发展，边区各族和中原汉族之间的关系越来越密切了，形成了一种相互依存的关系，光是经济文化的交流关系不够了，光是每一个边区和中原的合并也不够了，到了17世纪、18世纪，历史的发展使中国需要形成一个统一的政权，把中原地区和各个边区统一在一个政权之下。而清朝正是顺应了历史发展的趋势，完成了这个统一任务。17世纪、18世纪清朝之所以能够在这么大的范围之内完成统一，这决不是单纯的由于那时的清朝在军事上很强，在军事上取得一系列的胜利所能够做到的。单纯的、一时的军事上的胜利和军事征服要是没有社会、经济基础来维持的话，统一是不能持久的。但是清朝在完成统一之后，巩固下来，稳定下来了。到了19世纪中叶以后遭遇帝国主义从东南西北各方面入侵，给他们侵占了一部分土地去了，但基本上还是维持下来了。这是为什么？主要的原因是中原需要边区，边区更需要中原，需要统一在一个政权之下，这对中原人民有利，对边区人民更有利。我们知道，清朝的统一，实际上是先统一了满族的地区，即广义的满洲；再统一汉族的地区，即明王朝的故土，再统一蒙族地区和蒙族所统治的维藏等族地区。主要是满、蒙、汉三区的统一。汉族地区指原来的明朝的地方，除汉族外也包括许多南方的少数民族，蒙族地区在内外蒙古以外，还包括青海、西藏以及南疆的维吾尔地区。这些地区本来都在厄鲁特蒙古统治之下，都在准噶尔统治之下。当时的准噶尔疆域，不仅是天山北路的准噶尔本部，还包括南路的维吾尔地区，青海、西藏、套西厄鲁特，都是在准噶尔统治之下。噶尔丹还进一步侵占了喀尔喀蒙古，即外蒙古。只有内蒙古在清朝入关之前早已纳入清朝版图。后来准噶尔又进一步要从外蒙古入侵内蒙古，这就爆发了清朝和准噶尔之间的战争。双方经过康熙、雍正、乾隆70年的斗争，清朝终于取得了胜利。清朝不仅把准噶尔本部收入版图，也把原来在准噶尔统治之下的青海、西藏、“回疆”，即天山南路，也纳入了版图。所以清朝统一基本上就是统一满、汉、蒙三区。蒙区实际上包括维吾尔地区及藏区。这三区统一完成之时是在乾隆中叶，即18世纪50年代。而由满、蒙、汉三族人民组成这个王朝，实际上还远远在清朝入关以前。1636年皇太极即皇帝位，把国号大金改为大清，臣下所进呈的劝进表就是由满、蒙、汉三种文字写成的，充分表明这个王朝是由满、蒙、汉三种人组成的。据我看来，这是顺应历史潮流的。因为到了16世纪、17世纪时，汉满蒙等中国各民族已经迫切需要统一。这一点，我们从明朝与女真部落即后来的后金打得交道，明朝跟蒙古打的交道可以看得很清楚。那个时候中原的明朝和东北的满州、北方的蒙古，时而打仗，兵戎相见；时而通过和谈规定明朝岁赠女真、蒙古多少物资，并进行互市。打也好，和也好，目的无非是女真人要拿人参、貂皮来换中原地区的缎布、粮食和农具，蒙古人要拿他们的马来换中国布帛、粟豆和茶叶。岁赠互市不能满足他们的需要时，就打进来掠夺。一边进行掠夺，一边要挟举行新的和议，增加岁赠。这说明边区发展到16世纪、17世纪时迫切需要中原地区的农产品和手工业品。当然，中原地区也需要边区的人参、貂皮、马匹等等。但是比较起来说，边区更需要中原的物资。所以说，通过互市，通过战争，最后需要统一。因为统一之后，只要中原能用布匹、粮食等物资满足边区的需要，就可以平安无事，统一就可以巩固下来。所以我说清朝之所以能造成大统一的局面并且巩固下来，是顺应了历史的潮流。是历史的发展自然形成的。有人说，清朝这样大的版图完全是向外扩张的结果，这是不符合历史事实的。清朝对于蒙古用兵不能算是穷兵黩武，就像汉武帝对匈奴用兵不能算穷兵黩武一样。汉武帝对付朝鲜、东越、南越，可以责备他是侵略，对付匈奴就不能算是侵略。他不对付匈奴，匈奴要打进来。唐太宗对付突厥也不能算穷兵黩武。同样清朝对付准噶尔也是不得不然。在那时候，准噶尔气势汹汹，占领了整个新疆、青海、西藏、外蒙，矛头指向清帝国统治下的内蒙，如果不把噶尔丹打败的话那还得了？那就可能再次出现边疆民族入主中原，即厄鲁特入主中原，再来一次改朝换代。要改朝换代可不是容易的。从当时情况看起来清朝还是比准噶尔进步点，让清朝统治中原地区比让准噶尔统治中原还是要有利一点吧。所以说清朝打败准噶尔，不能说他是穷兵黩武。这是你死我活的斗争。清朝把准噶尔统治的地区一一收入版图，这是为了彻底打垮准噶尔而必须要采取的措施，不是存心要去征服这些地方。清朝那时候并不是扩张主义者。我们知道，清朝打败准噶尔之后，阿富汗、浩罕、巴达克山等中亚的一些小国，曾经一度要加入清朝，但清朝拒绝了，仅仅把这些国家列为藩属，以当时清朝的兵势、兵威所加，要进一步向中亚扩展是完全有可能的，但清朝并没有这样做。可见清朝之所以有这样的版图，决不能说他是扩张主义者，这是顺应历史潮流。所以说清朝在18世纪时形成的这个版图是中国历史发展的结果，拿这个版图来作为历史上中国的范围应该是恰当的。有人主张拿今天的国土作为历史上中国的范围，我们认为那是不恰当、不应该的。要是那样的话，岂不等于承认沙俄通过瑷珲条约、北京条约割让的乌苏里江以东、黑龙江以北的地方，本来就不是我们的地方吗？事实上在清朝以前，乌苏里江以东、黑龙江以北已有几百年是在中原王朝直接统治之下的。再如大漠以北的蒙古高原，现在属于蒙古人民共和国。这个国家是不是历史自然发展形成的呢？不是。1911年、1921年两次蒙古独立，都是后面有第三者插手的，要是没有第三者插手的话，它不会脱离中国。历史发展的自然趋势是蒙古地区不论漠南漠北都应该和中原地区联系在一起的。到了20世纪，到了1911年、1921年，由于第三者的插手，结果分裂出去了。这不是自然发展的结果，这是帝国主义宰割中国的结果。所以我们不能说历史上的中国只包括漠南的内蒙古而不包括漠北的外蒙古，尽管我们现在是承认蒙古人民共和国的。历史上所有的北方民族，匈奴也好，鲜卑也好，柔然也好，突厥也好，回纥也好，全都是同时分布在漠南和漠北的。要是我们以今国界为依据处理历史上的民族，那该怎么办？同一个政权统治之下的一个民族，漠北的不算中国，漠南的才算中国，这就没法办了。但我们要是采用1840年以前的清朝版图为历史上中国范围就好办。出现在漠南漠北的蒙古以及历史上所有的民族，都是中国的少数民族，不能因为今天在蒙古人民共和国之内就不算历史上中国的民族。当然，我们将中国史的时候应当把这些民族作为中国史上的民族。但我们也不反对蒙古人民共和国在写它的历史的时候把这些古代民族写成它的先民。

有一点要补充一下，就是1840年以前有些跨国界的政权或民族或部落怎么办？这个问题最明显的事例就是高丽。我们现在是这样办的：我们认为以鸭绿江、图们江为界的中朝国界，这是历史自然形成发展的结果，没有什么帝国主义插手。历史上的高丽最早全在鸭绿江以北，有相当长一个时期是在鸭绿江、图们江南北的，后来又发展为全在鸭绿江以南。当它在鸭绿江以北的时候，我们是把它作为中国境内的一个少数民族所建立的国家的，这就是始建于西汉末年，到东汉时强盛起来的高句丽，等于我们看待匈奴、突厥、南诏、大理、渤海一样。当它建都鸭绿江北岸今天的集安县境内，疆域跨有鸭绿江两岸时，我们把它的全境都作为当时中国的疆域处理。但是等到5世纪时它把首都搬到了平壤以后，就不能再把它看作中国境内的少数民族政权了，就得把它作为邻国处理。不仅它鸭绿江以南的领土，就是它鸭绿江以北辽水以东的领土，也得作为邻国的领土。

我们处理历史上的中国的标准就这一条，并没有第二条。当初我们讨论的时候，正如昨天小组会上好几位同志的意见一样，有些同志总觉得只有这么一条不够，总想找到第二条、第三条，想要加一两条跟中原王朝的关系，总觉得应该跟中原王朝有一点什么关系，如果没有关系，怎么能说是历史上的中国？什么关系呢？最好有过郡县。但是有的边区从来没设过郡县，那么羁縻州县也算郡县。这也是过去学术界不实事求是之风造成的。那时历史学界讳言“羁縻州”，“羁縻”两个字不许提，硬要把“羁縻”都督府、羁縻州的“羁縻”两个字去掉，变成某某州，要把它看成正式的地方行政区划一样。我们知道，府、州的长官是流官，是中央政府可以随时调动的。州府秉承中央政府的政令进行统治，向中央缴赋税，就徭役。但羁縻府、州只是给当地少数民族首领一个都督或刺史的名义，实际上是当地基本上自主的统治者，他的地位是世袭的。王朝动不了它，它只是归附而已，你要动他他就会举兵叛乱。羁縻府州和正式府州完全是两回事。因为正式的找不出来，所以硬要把羁縻府州算正式府州。这在实际上是违反历史事实的。有些地区连羁縻府州也没有设置过，这些同志就去找称臣纳贡的关系，只要称过臣、纳过供，就算是归入中原王朝的版图了。或者是曾经接受过中原王朝封赠的爵位，中原王朝曾经封过这一部族的首领什么王、什么侯，或者是曾经授予一点什么官衔，那就把它说成是中原王朝的一部分，纳入中国的版图了。搞来搞去无非就是要跟中原王朝拉上一点关系，好像只有跟中原王朝扯上关系以后才能算中国，否则就不能算中国。这是讲不通的。我们知道，朝鲜、越南是历代向中原王朝称臣纳贡，接受中原王朝的封爵的，但我们能把朝鲜、越南算作中国的一部分吗？不行。它们跟明朝和清朝的关系只是小国与大国的关系、藩属国和宗主国的关系，它们不是明朝的地方、清朝的地方。尤其明显的是日本有一颗被奉为国宝的印，叫做汉倭奴国王印，按照这些同志的说法，日本已经接受了中国给他的这颗印，岂不是日本也要算中国的了吗？可见把有没有封爵纳贡这种关系看作在不在历史上的中国范围以内这种说法，是绝对讲不通的。尤其突出的是，一定要把跟中原王朝拉上一点关系才算中国的一部分，那么处理台湾问题就难了。台湾在明朝以前，既没有设过羁縻府州，也没有设过羁縻卫所，岛上的部落首领没有向大陆王朝进过贡、称过臣，中原王朝更没有在台湾岛上设官置守。过去我们历史学界也受了“左”的影响，把“台湾自古以来是中国的一部分”这句话曲解了。台湾自古以来是中国的一部分，这是一点没有错的，但是你不能把这句话解释为台湾自古以来是中原王朝的一部分，这是完全违反历史事实，明以前历代中原王朝都管不到台湾。有人要把台湾纳入中国从三国时算起，理由是三国时候孙权曾经派军队到过台湾，但历史事实是“军士万人征夷州（即台湾），军行经岁，士众疾疫死者十有八九”，只俘虏了几千人回来，“得不偿失”。我们根据这条史料，就说台湾从三国时候起就是大陆王朝的领土，不是笑话吗？派了一支军队去，俘虏了几千人回来，这块土地就是孙吴的了？孙吴之后两晋南朝隋唐五代两宋都继承了所有权？有人也感到这样实在说不过去，于是又提出了所谓台澎一体论，这也是绝对讲不通的。我们知道，南宋时澎湖在附件泉州同安县辖境之内，元朝在岛上设立了巡检司，这是大陆王朝在澎湖岛上设立政权之始，这是靠得住的。有些同志主张“台澎一体”论，说是既然在澎湖设立了巡检司，可见元朝已管到了台湾，这怎么说得通？在那么小的澎湖列岛上设了巡检司，就会管到那么大的台湾？宋元明清时，一个县可以设立几个巡检司，这等于现在的公安分局或者是派出所。设在澎湖岛上的巡检司，它就能管辖整个台湾了？有什么根据呢？相反，我们有好多证据证明是管不到的。因此，你假如说一定要与中原王朝发生联系才算是中国的，那末明朝以前台湾就不是中国的一部分，这行吗？不行。台湾当然是中国的，自古以来是中国的。为什么自古以来是中国的？因为历史演变的结果，到了清朝台湾是清帝国疆域的一部分。所以台湾岛上的土著民族—高山族是我们中华民族的一个组成部分，是我们中国的一个少数民族。对台湾我们应该这样理解，在明朝以前，台湾岛是由我们中华民族的成员之一高山族居住着的，他们自己管理自己，中原王朝管不到。到了明朝后期，才有大陆上的汉人跑到台湾岛的西海岸建立了汉人的政权，这就是颜思齐、郑芝龙一伙人。后来荷兰侵略者把汉人政权赶走了，再后来郑成功又从荷兰侵略者手里收复了。但是，我们知道，郑成功于1661年收复台湾，那是大陆上已经是清朝了，而郑成功则奉明朝正朔，用永历年号，清朝还管不到台湾。一直到1683年（康熙二十二年），清朝平定台湾，台湾才开始同大陆属于一个政权，所以一定要说某一地区同中原王朝属于同一政权，中原王朝管到了才算是中国的话，那末，台湾就只能从1683年算起，1683年前不算中国，这行吗？台湾自古以来是中国的，为什么是中国的？因为高山族是中国的一个少数民族，台湾自古以来是高山族的地方，不是日本的地方，也不是菲律宾的地方，更不是美国的地方、苏联的地方，台湾自古以来就是中国的地方。但不是属于中原王朝的，是属于高山族的，到1683年以后中原王朝才管到，这样我们觉得就可以讲通了。一定要找出边疆地区同中原王朝的关系来，好象同中原王朝没有关系就不能算中国的一部分，实际上，很对不起，还是大汉族主义。这个思想一定要坚决打破。

我们自己思想中如果认为一定跟汉族王朝才有关系才算中国，那就不好办了。国外有人说，中国的西界到甘肃为止，新疆从来不是中国的。这个论点大家都知道是胡说。但是，为什么是胡说呢？很多人就会这样讲了：因为新疆在汉朝就统治到了，唐朝也统治到了。汉朝设过西域都护府、唐朝设过安西都护府、北庭都护府。但是我们的历史很长，西汉对西域统治多少时间？也不过50年吧。东汉的统治更差。唐朝比较长一点，也不过7世纪到8世纪100多年吧。我们有几千年的历史，除了唐汉一二百年统治了新疆之外，其他的时代怎么样？有些人之愿意谈汉唐，不愿意谈其他时代，因为一想到除汉朝、唐朝、清朝之外，中原王朝的确管不到新疆。那怎么办呢？好象理亏似的，于是有的同志就去找其他的关系。说是虽然不能直接管到，但在宋朝、明朝新疆的地方政权向中原王朝进过贡。朝鲜、越南都不算中国的一部分，为什么新疆地区的政权向中原王朝进过贡，就算是中国的一部分呢？这是讲不通的。宋朝和明朝，新疆地区政权同中原王朝的关系实在是很可怜的，西州回鹘、于田、黑汗王朝跟宋朝怎么说得上有什么臣属、隶属关系？怎么能说是向宋朝称臣纳贡呢？不过是来往一二次而已，不用说不在宋朝的版图内，连藩属也谈不上。到明朝更可怜了，明朝中叶以后，嘉峪关打不开了，嘉峪关之外都是一些与明朝没有什么关系的政权。所以一定要与中原王朝有关系才算中国的一部分的话，那末新疆在宋朝、明朝根本就不是中国的一部分。不能这样讲，不能说一定要与中原王朝有关系才算中国的一部分。我们一定要分清楚汉族是汉族，中国是中国，中原王朝是中原王朝，这是不同的概念。在1840年以前，中国版图之内的所有民族，在历史时期是中国的一部分。就是这么一条，没有其他标准。新疆在宋朝的时候，是西州回鹘、于田、黑汗等等。在明朝的时候，在察合台后王封建割据之下，分成好多政权，这是不是就不是中国了？是中国，不过它与中原王朝分裂了。

分裂与统一，在中国的历史上是经常出现的，每一次由分而合，一般说来是扩大一次。中国历史上第一次统一是在秦汉时期，秦统一时北至秦长城，西边只到黄河，根本没有挨上青藏高原。汉朝的统一，西边到了玉门关，到了青藏高原的湟水流域。比秦有所扩大。隋唐的统一又扩大一步，但是都赶不上清朝的统一。一次一次统一，一次一次的扩大，到清朝的统一，版图最大。而这个范围并不反映清朝用兵的结果，而是几千年来历史发展的结果，是几千年来中原地区与边疆地区各民族之间经济、政治各方面密切关系所自然形成的。不过，我们说，经济文化的密切关系，还需要政治统一来加以巩固的。所以讲到这点，我们不得不特别强调一下，我们中国是各族人民共同缔造的这一句话并不是泛泛而谈的，少数民族对我们的贡献确实是很大的，除了经济文化方面我们暂且不谈之外，就是我们形成这么大的一个中国，少数民族特别是蒙古族、满族对我们的贡献太大了。我们设想一下在12世纪我们这个中国分成七八块，长江流域、珠江流域是南宋，东北和黄河流域是金，宁夏、甘肃的河西和鄂尔多斯这一带是西夏，云南是大理，新疆是西辽，西藏是吐蕃，分裂成许多部落的蒙古高原上是蒙古各部、突厥各部，整个中国分成七八块，每一块中间还不统一。由于从成吉思汗到忽必烈祖孙三代的经营，才出现了一个大统一的局面，这个大统一的局面多么珍贵啊！譬如云南，虽然汉晋时代是中原王朝统治所及，但是南朝后期就脱离了中原王朝。到了隋唐时候，是中原王朝的羁縻地区，不是直辖地区。这个羁縻局面也就不能维持很久，到了8世纪中叶以后，南诏依附吐蕃反唐，根本就脱离了唐王朝。南诏之后是大理。总的来说，从6世纪脱离中原王朝，经过了差不多700年，到13世纪才由元朝征服大理，云南地区又成为中原王朝统治所及。又如新疆地区，从8世纪后期就脱离了唐王朝，唐朝人被吐蕃又赶出来了，后来吐蕃人也站不住了，维吾尔人进入新疆建立了几个政权。总而言之，经过了400多年，才由蒙古族征服西辽使新疆地区和中原地区又同属于一个政权。元朝的统治使中国各地区之间长期分裂又合在一起。没有蒙古的话，怎么能形成这样大的统一？这样分裂的局面继续下去的话，那就不可想象。同样，在明朝时后，中国进入一个分裂时代。明朝对东北辽东边墙以外，对青藏高原的统治是很薄弱的，只是一种羁縻关系而已，真正的统治是谈不上的。我们要说老实话，现在把明朝对西藏关系来比之于元朝对西藏的关系，清朝对西藏的关系，这是不行的，是远远赶不上的。明朝对东北边墙以外女真各部的关系也不能和元朝清朝相提并论。长城以外的鞑靼、瓦刺，长期处于敌对状态。所以明朝的时候中国又分成好几块了。没有清朝起来，这个分裂局面不知又要延续到什么时候。明朝对新疆的关系更谈不上，根本管不上，连新疆发生什么变化都不晓得。要是没有清朝从努尔哈赤、皇太极，经过顺治、康熙、雍正、乾隆这六代200多年的经营，就不会出现18世纪的大统一局面。所以我们说中国是各族人民共同缔造的。我们今天还能够继承下来这么大的一个中国（虽然被帝国主义宰割了一部分，侵占去了好多地方），包括这么多的少数民族在内，不能不归功于清朝。所以我们绝不能把中国看成汉族的中国，我们中国是各族人民共同的中国。很多少数民族对我们中国历史发挥了很大的作用，没有元朝，没有清朝，今天的中国是什么样子？我们怎么能把中国看成汉族一家的？王朝跟中国不能等同起来，应该分开，整个历史时期只有清朝等于全中国，清朝以外没有别的中国政权。清朝以前任何历史时期，中国都包括两个以上的政权，我们绝不能说这个政权是中国的，那个政权不是中国的，不能这样分，要分也分不清。

历史上同时存在两个以上的中国政权时，那就得承认事实上几个国家并峙，谁也管不到谁，不能硬说中原王朝管到了边区民族政权。有些同志要把吐蕃说成是唐朝的一部分，这是违反历史事实的。唐和吐蕃敌对战争时多，和亲通好时少。就是在和亲通好时，唐朝也完全管不了吐蕃。汉朝和匈奴，唐朝和突厥、回纥的关系，基本上也是如此。我们只能认为吐蕃、匈奴、突厥、回纥是历史上中国的一部分，但不能说它们是汉唐王朝的一部分。

历史上的中国政权有时管到了历史上中国范围以外的地方，我们也得承认这些地方虽然不在历史上的中国范围之内，但确在几个中国王朝版图之内。例如，汉晋间曾在朝鲜西部设置过乐浪、带方等郡，汉唐间曾在越南北部设置过交趾九真日南等郡，这些设郡县的地方，当然是汉晋唐等王朝疆域的一部分。所以朝鲜、越南虽然不在历史上的中国范围之内，但历史上的乐浪、交趾等郡，则为汉、唐等王朝的领土，那是无可讳言的。以郭老名义出版的《中国史稿》第一版（后来的版本改动过没有，我不知道），把汉朝同交趾九真日南的关系说成是对外关系，我看是很难讲得通的。这三郡明明在汉王朝的统治之下，版图之内，汉朝其他地区对这三郡的关系只能说是内地或中原对边区的关系，怎么能说成是对外关系呢？这是违反历史事实的。我们对内提倡民族团结，对外提倡尊重邻国，特别是比较弱小的邻国，这是对的。但不应该，也不需要为了尊重邻国，就抹杀或歪曲历史事实。交趾九真日南等郡确在汉唐王朝疆域之内，不能因为在今天是越南的国土，便硬说汉唐跟这几郡的关系是“对外”。五代以后越南脱离中国独立建国，那我们就该尊重其独立，不能因为它曾经向宋、元、明、清等朝称过臣、纳过贡，而不把它作为一个独立的邻国看待。

在我们的图上，我们没有把秦朝的象郡按我国的传统说法划在越南境内。有些同志认为我们在画秦图时是在与越南交好的时候，所以就不敢把象郡画在越南。我们是把象郡画在广西、贵州一带的。他们说，我们现在要修订这套图，应该可以把象郡画到越南去了。实际把历史上的郡县画在哪儿，这是不能以对某个邻国友好不友好来决定的。我们当初没有把象郡画到越南去，我们是根据史料认真地作了分析，觉得还是不把象郡画到越南去更妥当一些。我们也知道把象郡放到越南去也有一定的史料根据，《汉书·地理志》、《水经注》都说秦朝的象郡在越南。但是我们没有采用这种说法而主张象郡是在广西、贵州，我们觉得这种主张的根据更坚强一些。因为《汉书·地理志》赶不上《汉书·本纪》可靠，而《汉书·本纪》的材料证明象郡应该在广西。《水经注》的材料虽然可贵，但《山海经》的材料比《水经注》更早一点。《山海经》的材料说明象郡应该在贵州。因此，我们是老老实实根据历史资料进行认真的分析、研究以后才下结论的。我们决不能今天与这个国家友好了，就这样画，不友好了，就那样画。

有的同志说如果我们把历史边疆各少数民族所建立的政权看成是历史上的中国，那是不是就没有民族英雄，就没有汉奸、卖国贼了，是不是宋辽之间，宋金之间的战争都是内战了？这显然也是不对的。我们将历史上的中国是应该站在今天中国的立场上的，但讲历史上中国境内国与国之间的斗争，宋朝就是宋朝，金朝就是金朝，宋金之间的斗争当然还是国与国之间的斗争，那末，当然应该有民族英雄，有卖国贼，岳飞当然是民族英雄，秦桧当然是卖国贼，这怎么推翻得了呢？任何人都应该忠于自己的祖国，怎么可以说把宋朝出卖给金朝而不是卖国贼？宋朝方面有汉族的民族英雄，金朝方面当然也会有女真族的民族英雄。我看完颜阿骨打起兵抗辽，就应该是女真族的民族英雄。所以岳飞还是应该颂扬的，秦桧还是应该谴责的。不过今天汉人与满人都已经是一家人了，写历史的时候虽然应该按历史事实写，但是今天已没有必要把这段历史大事宣扬，不需要宣扬并不等于否定，不等于否定民族英雄。我们要宣扬爱国主义的话，应该宣扬近一百几十年来在抗英、抗法、抗俄、抗日斗争中间的民族英雄，岂不是更好吗？何必过分宣扬历史上的？同样，我们肯定元朝、清朝对中国历史作出了伟大的贡献，但是不等于说要否定文天祥、陆秀夫，不承认他们是民族英雄、爱国主义者，也不等于说洪承畴、吴三桂不是卖国贼，因为历史是发展的，我们不能拿后来的关系看当时的关系。假如认为后来已成为一家，当时何必抵抗呢？那么从秦汉以后秦、楚也都是一家，在屈原的时代，岂不是他也无需站在楚国的立场上，抵抗秦朝的侵略了？假如说后来已成为一家，当时就可以不抵抗的话，那么将来世界总有一天要进入共产主义的，国家总是要消灭的，那么将来讲起历史来岂不就得认为历史时期被侵略者、反抗侵略都是无聊的？要这样讲起来，那我们的抗日战争岂不也是多余的？

所以历史发展到今天，我们全国各个民族是在一个大家庭里，我们应该团结起来，共同抗击外来的侵略，共同建设社会主义祖国，为了社会主义祖国的四个现代化而奋斗。今天我们写中国史，当然应该把各族人民的历史都当成中国历史的一部分，因为这个中国是我们各族人民共同缔造的，是五十六个民族共同的，而不是汉族一家的中国。我们今天的命运是相同的，兴旺就是大家的兴旺，衰落就是大家的衰落，我们应该团结起来共同斗争。

（谭其骧：复旦大学历史系教授）