每年8月,济南西藏中学总会出现这样一幅场景:一群小脸红润、目光纯净的藏族孩子,拖着大大的行李箱涌进校园,开始为期4年的内地西藏班初中生活。初来济南,他们总会好奇地问这问那,一切都是新鲜的,小小的心里装满了期待,期待着生命之舟从这里启航。作为老师,每每看到这些,我的眼前总会湿润起来,时光仿佛又回到了二十多年前:同样的历程、同样的身份、同样的梦想,我也曾是内地西藏班的孩子。翻越山外山 In August of each year, a scene of such a scene occurred in Jinan Tibetan Middle School always: a group of small, ruddy and pure-looking Tibetan children flocked to the campus with big suitcases and started a four-year middle school Tibetan class in junior high school. When I first came to Jinan, they always asked this question curiously. Everything was fresh. The little heart was filled with anticipation, and the boat of life was expected to sail from here. As a teacher, whenever I see these things, my eyes will always be wet and the time seems to have come back more than two decades: the same course, the same identity, the same dream, and I was once a child of the Tibetan classes in the Mainland. Cross the mountains outside the mountains