活出万语千言
语言即存在，不能被语言描述的生活即为不存在。于是，我们为了存在而写作。
《成长是孩子自己的旅程》是我多年来为《财新周刊》所写的专栏文章合集。《财新周刊》文化专栏的作者以各行业的专家学者为主。我才疏学浅，从未奢望过能成为一个专栏作者。我跟《财新》的渊源，始于当初他们还有小说专栏的时候。当年我投稿了两个短篇，从而结识了编辑徐晓。我的短篇都是与孩子在北美的成长有关，徐晓就建议我给《财新》写一个以孩子成长为主题的专栏。按她的设想，这个专栏以讲故事为特色。我起初有点犹豫，因为我的故事还想留着以后写小说用呢。徐晓说：“你写小说时再用一遍，没关系。”我说：“可是读者会对我印象不好，觉得这个人生活积累太少，一条素材反复用。”徐晓说：“这是好事儿呀，说明读者能记得你。”
于是，我就开始了这个以讲故事为主的专栏。在我开始写作的时候，我的女儿14岁，儿子9岁。两个都是反叛的年纪。每到交稿的时候，我都要搜肠刮肚苦思冥想：这个月我又对他们进行了哪些教育？回忆的闸门打开，失败的点滴汹涌而来。我在教育方面实在是没有作为，看到别人家的孩子都是家长让干什么就干什么，我就想：可能我遇到了世界上最不听话的孩子。那么，我就写写他们怎么不听话，我怎么无能为力吧。我的专栏经常像是自我辩护：这俩孩子实在是不可雕也，我尽力了。
而另一方面，我的孩子对我极度不满。他们最反感的一点，就是我在他们成长过程中频繁搬家。我曾经偷看过我女儿和她好朋友的对话。她的好朋友安慰她说：“每个家长都有不讲理的地方。你妈妈的问题就在于她总是拿不定主意到底在哪里生活最好。其实吧，这个算是比较轻的毛病。”
在我写孩子们的故事的时候，我女儿也在写我。她在八年级的时候写过一篇作文，是她的英语老师给我看的。记得是在家长会上。我看到结尾一段，当场哭了出来。老师安慰我说：“Don't worry. Vanessa has a big heart."
一转眼，七年过去了，我女儿已经上大学三年级了。我们之间曾有过的激烈争吵，我们一起经历过的艰难时刻，现在回头看，那些事件本身都无足轻重。然而，正是因为无足轻重，写下来，才算是经历过，犹如在似水年华中抛下了一根锚，为无情的岁月留下了见证。今天翻出我女儿八年级时写的一篇作文，看到最后一段，仍然流下泪来，就和当初第一次读时一样。
这篇作文的结尾是这样写的：”我改变很多。现在我知道世界上确实有很多需要了解的东西，而我永远无法穷尽。我也开始承认：我真地不知道自己将去往何方。如今我能做的只是安稳地坐好，享受旅程，而不是试图去驾驶、掌控。我不再惧怕黑暗，因为我已经接受了未知。“
（附上我女儿的英文原文和我的翻译）
My Path to Now
Vanessa Tian
“We’re going back to China” my mom said, over the phone. She sounded like she decided this quite a while ago, and just remembered to tell me now. That was probably the case, since she was in California, and I was in Vancouver.
“Why?” I asked her calmly. You’d probably expect me react differently, but I wasn’t surprised. You see, I’ve never really stayed at the same school for more than a year or two. On top of that, for the last month or two, I’ve sort of been staying home alone. My mom pays my best friend to sleep over in my house and her mom to feed me once in a while. I didn’t think this could last long. I’ve been expecting the end of the story for quite a while.
“The way we’ve been living… We need to go back,” my Mom explained. I wondered why she had to think of these things just as I was settling into a school. Every single time just as I settle into life, she has to tear me away like ripping off a band aid.
“When?” I asked. This ringing noise vibrated in my ears, and I had to hold my breath to not cry in front of her. Even though I expected this, I was still hoping for it not to happen. Like that test you took, knew you did horribly in, but still hoped for a good grade.
“In a month or so I guess… We have to remem-” I hung up before she could finish her sentence. My heart felt like it dropped to my feet, rolled out the door, and got ran over by a drunken truck driver. My vision turned blurry and I realized I was pacing back and forth. I slid down to the floor and the thoughts started flooding in. The last time I was in Beijing, the second I stepped off the plane I couldn’t stop coughing because of the pollution, got stuck in traffic for two hours on the way home from the airport, and spent the rest of the time trying to piece together what was going on in Canada with the bits and pieces of information Facebook emailed me saying things like “Sophia checked in at pizza hut with Vivian and Jessica”, and “You have 5 new friend requests”
I used to be so big headed. I never tried new things because I thought that I knew everything worth knowing. I thought that I could do anything. I thought I had my whole future planned out. In a way, ignorance was bliss.
And here I was, in Beijing.
Even though I assumed I was going to lock myself in my room until my parents agreed to let me go back to Canada, I adapted very quickly. The new school wasn’t THIS[i]. The best way I could describe it is a Chinese private school for rich kids. I loved it in ways I could never even think of loving my old one. The new school was so much more relaxed and free, and no one really took anything too seriously. Class was filled with people doing random things, including eating, sleeping, jump roping and, last but not least, reading comic books. Nights in the dorm were spent having contests where we would try to be the last one awake. I fell in love with the way they didn’t think about the future, not even the next day. Life just seemed so easy. So, when my mom brought up THIS, I didn’t take her very seriously.
“I’ve been looking at some schools” She said. That didn’t surprise me very much. She was always looking at schools. What surprised me was the tone of her voice. It sounded like she was trying not to set off a bomb.
“So?” I asked, thinking that she’ll forget this very soon.
“I really like one of them, and it’s a real international school too!” She was referring to the fact that the school I was going to called itself an international school, but half the people didn’t understand a thing the foreign teachers said.
“I’m not going, okay?”I answered. I didn’t love my school too much but the thought of being anywhere else was unbearable.
“Just take the entry test, and if you don’t like the school, you don’t have to go, okay?” Her logic was inescapable, I had to say yes. There really was no harm in taking the entry test.
“Fine, but I’m not going to that school next year.” I decided.
The day I went for the test, I was less nervous than I was when I decided on coke at McDonald’s instead of orange soda. I knew that I wasn’t going to go there anyways, who cared about if I got in or not?
The test went a little like this; “What is Timmy doing?” The guy who was testing me asked and pointed at a picture of a boy painting.
“Painting” I answered, and rolled my eyes a little.
“And what color is he using?” He asked patiently.
“Uh, blue?”
“Good!” He said, the way you’d talk to a kindergartener who learned to spell their own name.
My little brother was extremely nervous though. My mom got him with the whole better for your future talk. He thought he’d grow up to be a hobo if he didn’t get in. He literally cried for a whole hour after he found out I got in and not him. I almost did too for the opposite reason, but I burst out laughing at the irony of it. It’s a good thing they gave him a second chance the next month.
That night, my mom gave me the good for your future lecture too. It kept me up all night.
The more I thought about, the more I knew that my future isn’t going anywhere at my current school. Hula hooped during history, got the whole class to stay up all night and then sleep all day in class the next day, and helped at least six people pass the English final exam by shouting out all of the multiple choice answers aren’t exactly the most impressive things to put on my college application.
By the next morning, I knew that I had to suck it up for my future. Before I could regret it, I told my mom wire the money for next year.
Looking back on my path to now, I can see how twisted it was. Parts of it were so narrow and dark I wandered off into the woods. I just hope that I’m on the right path now. I guess that if I was in Canada, this would be my first year of high school[ii]. I would be walking to 7-11 for slurpees after school instead of getting squashed by strangers on the subway. Instead of Chinese class, we’d have French class, and pollution would be this far away concept buried in the back of my mind.
I’ve changed so much too. Now I know that there’s so much to know in the world before I knew it all. I now admit that I really have no idea where I’m going, and I should really just sit back and enjoy the ride instead of trying to control it all. I am no longer afraid of the dark, because I have accepted the unknown.
[i] THIS: The acronym for Tsinghua International School. This article, “My Path to Now”, was a homework assigned by a English teacher at THIS asking the students to describe their lives before entering THIS.
[ii] This article was written when the author is in 8th grade, the freshman year of high school in Canada.
迄今为止
田雨
我妈妈在电话里告诉我：“我们要回中国去”。听她的口气，仿佛她做出这个决定已经有一段相当长的时间了，只是刚刚想起来通知我。不过这也许是实情，因为说这话时她在美国的加利福尼亚，而我在加拿大的温哥华。
“为什么？”我平静地问道。你也许会期待我作出别的反应，但事实却是：我并不吃惊。迄今为止我从未在同一个学校呆过两年。更何侃，过去的一、两个月，我基本上是独自在家。我妈妈付钱给我的朋友。我朋友住在我家里，她的妈妈时不时给我做顿饭。我并不认为这种状况能够持续下去。我早已经猜到故事会有这样的结局。
“我们这样生活实在是不行……嗯，我们必须回去。”我妈妈解释道。我实在纳闷为什么每当我刚刚适应一个新学校，她就开始产生这样的想法。每一次，当我刚刚融入生活，她就动手把我拉走，就像撕下一块创可贴。
“什么时候？”我问。一种噪声开始在我耳朵里嗡嗡作响，我屏住呼吸，不能在她面前哭。尽管我早已经猜到了结局，我仍然希望它并不真正发生。就像在一场考试过后，明知自己考得不怎么样，但总还是希望分数能高一点儿。
“一个月吧，差不多吧……我们还得……”没等她说完，我就把电话挂了。我觉得自己的心掉到了地上，一溜小跑滚出门外，又被一个醉驾司机碾了一下。我的视线模糊起来，我在屋里来回地走。然后我坐到地上，思绪如潮水一般涌来。我想起去年在北京渡假的经历。下了飞机之后的第一秒就开始咳嗽。汽车在高速路上爬行，从机场到家竟然开了两个小时。整个假期都只能接收到来自回加拿大的信息碎片，然后自己再努力复原那边到底发生了什么。“索菲亚和维维安去了必胜客”，“脸书上有五个人想加你为好友”。等等。
我曾经是那么地自负。我从不尝试新事物，因为我认为值得了解的东西我都已经了解了。我相信我能胜任任何工作。我也以为我规划好了自己的未来。在某种程度上，无知可真是福份。
而现在，我来到了这里，北京。
起初我认为我可以把自己锁在房间里抗议，直到我父母同意送我回加拿大。不过，我很快就适应了。新学校并不是THIS（译者注：THIS是清华国际学校的简称。这篇文章是作者来到THIS后应英语老师要求写的一篇作文。老师要求每个学生描述他们在进入THIS之前的生活以及为什么选择这所学校），对它最恰如其分的定义是：一所给中国富裕孩子开办的私立学校。我竟然爱上了它，当然是基于一种前所未有的理由。这里有意想不到的自由和放松。这里的人不会严肃认真地对待任何事情。学生们在课上可以做的事情五花八门，包括吃东西、睡觉、跳绳，以及读漫画书。宿舍里的生活内容主要是比赛谁睡得更晚。我喜欢他们这种不为未来—甚至不为明天—忧虑的思想状态。生活如此之轻松，以至我妈妈提起THIS的时候，我连想都没想就拒绝了。
“我最近一直在考察学校”，她说。这话一点也不让我吃惊。多年来她一直都在做这件事。让我吃惊的是她的语调。听起来她很小心，好像我是一颗炸弹，她得留神别把它引爆了。
“是吗？”我问，心想过几天她就会把这事儿忘了。
“我真地很喜欢其中一所。那是一所真正的国际学校！”她强调“真正的”，意思是我现在的学校号称“国际学校”，实际上一半同学听不懂外国老师在讲什么。
“我不去，好吧？”我说。我并不那么喜欢我当时所在的学校。我不能忍受的是再次转学这样想法。
“就去考一次试，如果你不喜欢，你当然可以不去。好吗？”她的逻辑似乎无可反驳，我只能说好。考试本身似乎并无害处。
考试那天我很放松。选择题十分容易，比要我决定是喝一杯可乐还是一杯橙汁更容易。我反正不会去这所学校，我才不关心到底考得怎么样呢。我的弟弟倒是十分紧张，因为我妈妈事先向他做了长篇演说，关于这个考试如何关系到他的未来。这让他觉得他如果考试失败，长大后有可能无家可归。考试结束后，当他发现他没考上而我居然考上了的时候，他哭了整整一个小时（译者注：此处不符合事实。作者的弟弟确实第一次没有考上，但并没有哭一个小时，而是化悲痛为力量，在一个月后的第二次考试中取得成功。）
那天晚上，我妈妈又向我发表了一次长篇演说，害得我整晚都没睡着。
我想来想去，确实也觉得我在当时那个学校再呆下去是没有前途的。在历史课上玩呼拉圈，逗得同学们整晚不睡第二天上课时呼呼大睡，通过大声喊出多重选择题的答案而帮助至少六个同学通过英语考试，这些都不能作为“领袖才能”的证据写进大学申请文书里。
一夜无眠，直到天亮，我意识到为了未来我只能咬牙忍耐。于是，在反悔之前，我告诉我妈妈：去汇款交学费吧。
回望所来路，我能看出这是一条多么扭曲的道路，就像密林中的小路一样，很多地段都是如此黑暗、狭窄。设想如果我现在在加拿大，这就是我高中生活的开始（译者注：加拿大的学制是7+5，小学7年，中学5年。作者写作此文时是8年级，正好是加拿大中学一年级）。放了学我会走路到“711”买一杯“斯乐皮”，而不是在地铁上被陌生人挤得喘不过气来；外语课我会学法语，而不是学中文；至于污染，更是被埋藏在大脑深处的一个遥远的概念。
但是，我改变很多。现在我知道世界上确实有很多需要了解的东西，而我永远无法穷尽。我也开始承认：我真地不知道自己将去往何方。如今我能做的只是安稳地坐好，享受旅程，而不是试图去驾驶、掌控。我不再惧怕黑暗，因为我已经接受了未知。
