Who is your important other Author: Bi Shumin Recitation: Wang Hui

She was my music teacher, very young, with long big braids, two deep dimples, and a very clear smile. Of course, when she was angry, the dimples disappeared, and her face was stretched like a soda cookie, which was very severe. I was about eleven years old, very tall, and a member of the brigade.

The school organized the "Red May" singing competition, and the most optimistic one was the male and female chorus, and the music teacher personally conducted. I am honored to have been chosen. One day, when practicing songs, the music teacher with long braids suddenly dropped the baton, jumped off the stage with an arrow step, turned his ear sideways, walked to the team, and tilted his neck to listen to us sing. When everyone saw that the teacher attached so much importance to it, they sang with extra vigor.

The long braided teacher Tie Qing turned his face around for a while, and finally walked up to me and made a nail-and-nail gesture, and the whole team instantly fell silent. She crossed her waist and said word by word, Bi Shumin, I always heard a person on the podium running out of tune, I don't know who it is. Now that I've finally found it, it turns out to be you! A rat spoiled a pot of soup! Now, I've removed you!

I stood there, unable to accept the sudden blow. Just now the teacher stayed next to me for a long time, and I thought she appreciated my singing voice, extra energetic, and did not want to be caught "current". I slipped out of the line and walked out of the classroom in shame.

Three days later, I was practicing on the playground when a girl on the small choir ran out of breath and said, Bi Shumin, it turns out you are here! Music teachers are looking for you everywhere!

The few minutes from the playground to the music classroom filled my heart with happiness and longing. Walking to the music classroom, the long braided teacher said impatiently, how did you grow so tall at such a young age?!

I heard the condemnation in my words, and involuntarily bowed my neck and collapsed. Since then, this posture has penetrated my entire teenage and youth.

The teacher's anger was obviously not finished, she said, you are so tall, you have to stand in the middle of the queue when singing, you run out of tune, I have to let another boy also go down, the voice part is balanced. There were not many people in the small chorus, and the team was suddenly shortened by half a cut, how can this be sung? Now find such a tall girl, close the rhythm of everyone, which is so easy? Now, there is only one last method left...

The long braided teacher stood up, his face stretched like the soles of his newly accepted shoes. She said, Bi Shumin, you listen well, you can go back to the team, but remember, from now on, you can only dry your mouth, never make any sound! After saying that, she was afraid that I would not understand it, and held out her long index finger, which was straight between my lips.

It took me half a day to understand the teacher's ban on long braids and let me be a wooden man who only opened his mouth and did not make a sound. Tears swirled in his eyes, but he didn't dare to flow out. I didn't have the courage to say to the long braided teacher that if I became a puppet, I would quit the little choir. In the midst of the wordless grievances, I stood silently in the middle of the line, and from then on, with the rhythm of the instrumental music, my mouth fluttered, but I could not make any sound. The long braid teacher is still not at ease, as soon as I hear the discordant sound, the awl-like gaze will stab me first...

The little chorus won a good place in the "Red May" singing competition, but I have been left with the problem of not being able to sing since then. When I graduated, the music exam was for each student to sing a song, but I couldn't make my own voice at all. The music teacher has been replaced, and he does not know this past, which is very strange. I said with tears in my eyes, Teacher, it's not that I don't want to sing, it's that I really can't sing.

Later, I applied for the Beijing Foreign Language Institute Affiliated Middle School, and when I took the oral test, there was another test to sing. I said to the examiner very resolutely that I would not sing.

In the decades since, the long braided teacher's erect index finger, like a spell, locked my throat. The ban spread, and whenever I needed to use my throat, I was nervous and avoided retreating. Not only have I never sung again, but even when I speak in public and make necessary speeches at meetings, I can hide and find all kinds of reasons to prevaricate. Sometimes, when it was my turn to speak, I would make excuses to go to the bathroom and sneak out. Some people think that this is my arrogance and contempt, even disrespect, and only I know it, and it is the indescribable fear and sorrow in my heart that is at work.

Until one day, when I was doing the game "Who is your important other", after writing a series of characters that had an important influence on me, I couldn't help but think of the long braided music teacher's beautiful dimples but as tight as an iron plate, and a shudder rolled through my heart. So I knew that she was my "important other." Although I have forgotten her name, and although I can understand her intentions and bitterness at that time with the intelligence of an adult today, I cannot erase the painful memories she left in the heart of a teenager. The reddish scars still emit scorching green smoke decades later.

Certain of our personalities and reaction patterns are deeply imprinted by the influence of these "important others." You were young then, you were injured, and it wasn't your fault. But your wounds are still bleeding, and you have to bandage them yourself. If it still whizzes like an outlet to the sewers and continues to exert a strong influence on you today and tomorrow, it's because you're still resigned. Childhood memories cannot be rewritten, but for an adult, it can be re-combed along the "important other" cable and re-examined our rules and patterns. If it is reasonable, it becomes a golden sail and becomes part of reason. If it is a dark thorn, crush it with the powerful hands of an adult.

When I thought about it all, it was as if a hot wind was rising from the soles of my feet, and I could clearly feel the frost that had been imprisoned in my throat cracking and cracking. A relaxed and cheerful me, liberated from the spell. From that day on, I could sing, and I could speak to the crowd without being afraid. From that day on, I forgave my long braided teacher and told the other teachers about the experience, hoping that they would be cautious and careful in facing the child's weak heart. The negative emotions that are branded in childhood are difficult to easily erase with the eraser of time.

<b>[If you have a news thread, please report to us, once adopted, there is a fee reward.] WeChat attention: ihxdsb, QQ: 3386405712].</b>