落笔时,窗外悠悠地飘来一朵云。那片云很干净,带着一丝不食人间烟火的气质。还记得十年前刚踏上一所农村初中讲台时,激动与彷徨交织,我庆幸自己考编成功,成为一名正式的初中教师。校长说:“年轻人有干劲,七年级一班班主任就是你了。”面对教学,面对五十八张陌生的面孔,我显得如此稚嫩。且不说钻研教材,且不说开好第一节班会课,单是板书的书写就 When writing, a cloud floats out of the window. The cloud was clean, with a hint of humanity. I remember that ten years ago when I set foot on a rostrum for rural junior middle school, I was thrilled and affiliated. I was fortunate that I was successful in my examination and became an official junior high school teacher. The principal said: “The young people are motivated. The first-grade class teacher in the seventh grade is you.” Facing teaching, facing fifty-eight strange faces, I was so immature. Not to mention studying teaching materials, and not to say that the first class class will be taught well.