(Minghui.org) Greetings, Master! Greetings, fellow practitioners!
I’m a 41-year-old primary school teacher, and I wanted to tell you how I let go of resentment.
I was busy all morning one day in mid-June helping students prepare for the final exams. I was about to take a break when I suddenly got a call from the director, who insisted on meeting me in person. I had a bad feeling. Since it was nearing the end of the term, tensions between parents and teachers were high. Complaints from parents to the mayor’s hotline or the principal about teachers were common. I wondered if a parent complained about me.
It was drizzling, and the gloomy sky matched my mood. I felt weighed down, as though I carried a mountain on my shoulders, making each step hard. Although the walk to the office wasn’t long, it felt like it took forever. I reminded myself that as a practitioner, nothing happens by chance. Whatever I faced, I needed to handle it calmly. To ease my anxiety, I silently repeated, “Falun Dafa is good. Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance is good.”
When I arrived at the director’s office she looked serious and told me the principal received a complaint from a parent about me. Then, she listed the six points in the complaint. I listened with mixed emotions. The complaints mostly came from parents who only heard one side of the story from their children, leading to misunderstandings about me. I felt wronged. I’d been skipping lunch to help their children—why did I have to put up with such unreasonable criticism? My resistance grew, and I couldn’t help but argue back.
The director saw my frustration and tried to comfort me. She said, “This feedback came from the school leadership. Don’t feel pressured. If there’s something to improve, do so; if not, take it as a reminder.” I calmed down. I firmly denied the unreasonable complaint but acknowledged and apologized for my problems.
After she explained the complaints, I sighed deeply and said, “Director, this is my first complaint in 18 years of teaching. I’m sorry I tarnished our group’s reputation.” She reassured me and asked, “Have you noticed any signs that a parent might act like this?” I explained that a group of six parents recently planned to report me to the education bureau to demand a different teacher. They didn’t speak directly to me but went to the homeroom teacher instead. I only found out at the end. I calmly told the homeroom teacher I understood the parents’ concerns but felt they should have contacted me directly.
But since the parents didn’t reach out, I was angry and decided not to contact them. My attitude led to the situation I now faced.
The director said, “Isn’t it true in traditional culture that people with high morals can endure grievances? You’ll handle this well.” I didn’t want to take up more of her time, so I said, “Don’t worry; I can handle it.” I quietly walked out of the building. The rain was falling harder now, and I felt my dignity had been stepped on. Standing on the steps, I looked up at the sky and thought about what I should do.
In order to uphold the team’s reputation and avoid causing more trouble for the leadership, I picked up my phone and quickly messaged the parent who led the complaints. I first praised the child’s progress in preparing for the exams, and reminded her I was committed to helping both students and parents and encouraged them to contact me directly with any issues. She soon replied, and thanked me and accepted my suggestion.
That afternoon, I spoke with Liu (alias) , the child whose mother led the complaints. I said, “Today, I spoke with your mom and praised you. Keep up the good work!” He cheerfully agreed.
In this way, the complaint was resolved. But the resentment it stirred in me bothered me a lot. I looked inward to see where I could improve. It was a challenging process.
I looked inward to find out how the conflict with this parent who led the complaints, began.
It happened on a Tuesday when I taught a new topic. Liu arrived late because of a family issue, so he missed most of the class. After class, I helped him review the main points, and asked if he had any questions. He said no, but when he did the practice exercises, he got many wrong answers on this new topic. I called him over, went over the main problem-solving steps, and watched as he corrected his mistakes.
The next day, I got a message from the homeroom teacher asking me to set aside time to tutor him individually because his mother complained that Liu missed the class and didn’t understand it. I became angry. I already gave up my break time to help him catch up on what he missed. Why didn’t she appreciate that? She had my number, so why did his mother go through the homeroom teacher instead of contacting me directly? What right did she have to ask me to give her child extra lessons?
Her attitude upset me, so I quickly messaged her back, explaining what I already did and I asked her to come to me directly if she had concerns rather than going through the homeroom teacher. She replied with criticism and no appreciation.
Feeling disrespected, I threw my phone down in anger. But I reminded myself I was a practitioner. I silently repeated, “Falun Dafa is good. Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance is good.” and gradually calmed down. I thought tutoring Liu alone might hurt his self-esteem as if he were the only student who was struggling. I noticed another student, Tom, also made many mistakes on his homework, so I called both of them over, smiled and said, “You’re both good students, but you made similar mistakes this time. Tell me what you don’t understand, and I’ll explain it to you.” As I reviewed the material with them, I noticed they hadn’t fully grasped the new concepts. Step by step, I helped them understand by using example problems. After one class period, they felt more confident.
Before they left, I encouraged them to ask me anytime they didn’t understand something, and I told them to share their progress with their parents. They happily agreed.
I thought this would be the end of it, but it led to this parent joining five others to prepare a complaint against me. I was both annoyed and amused. Parents who constantly criticized teachers—are they helping or harming their children? How ridiculous! I also couldn’t help but wonder why I ended up dealing with parents like this.
I looked inward and examined my own words and actions. I realized that my communication with the parents and the students hadn’t been purely kind. I held a sense of superiority, which gave the parents the impression that I was forceful and difficult to communicate with, leading to misunderstandings and mistrust. In China, teachers are considered part of the service industry. I should lower myself and provide better service for students and parents.
After work, I quietly listened to Master’s teachings. Each word resonated deeply, and it occurred to me, “This is a test; how will you pass it?”
Master said,
“If you can tolerate it and yet it preys on your mind, it is still not good enough. As you know, when a person reaches the Arhat level, in his heart he is not concerned about anything. He does not care at all in his heart for any ordinary human matter, and he will always be smiling and in good spirits. No matter how much loss he suffers, he will still be smiling and in good spirits without any concern. If you can really do this, you have already reached the entry-level Fruit Status of Arhatship.” (Lecture Nine, Zhuan Falun)
A practitioner is in a high realm if he can stay cheerful at all times—but this is not easy to achieve. While I may not reach that level, I set a standard for myself: I must never bring negative emotions into the classroom. So, I kept adjusting my mindset. As soon as I walked into the classroom, I greeted students with energy and a smile, and patiently answered each question they had. It’s a process of improving my character each time I was able to do so.
I worked hard and constantly adjusted my teaching method. To improve communication and reduce anxiety for students and parents, I started offering video Q&A sessions on the weekends for free. I carefully researched interesting teaching materials, gave each student personalized advice, and helped improve their study efficiency. During the final exam period, I received over a hundred messages from the parents of the 80 students in my class. I replied as quickly as possible, and answered their questions.
I thoughtfully reviewed each student’s overall performance and wrote personalized reviews. In the last math class of the term, I awarded them certificates and small prizes I bought with my own money, recorded a video of the event, and sent it to their parents. My dedication touched them—and over fifty parents sent messages expressing their gratitude and respect. Even though I won’t be teaching this class next term, I wrote individualized study advice on each student’s final exam papers. Falun Dafa taught me not to work for recognition or personal gain, but to follow my conscience.
Things were gradually moving in a positive direction, but another issue surfaced just as one issue was resolved. During the end-of-term teacher meeting, I openly acknowledged my shortcomings in front of the entire team and promised to improve. After everyone shared their reflections, the team leader mentioned that four of us received thank-you letters from parents. Yet, all knew I didn’t mention receiving one. Was that meant to single me out? I felt like salt was sprinkled on a barely healed wound—it hurt deeply.
Back in the office, I felt my colleagues’ gazes seemed different. Insomnia, frustration, grievance, and anger overwhelmed me. I discussed it with my mother, a fellow practitioner.
My mother reminded me of Master’s Fa.
Master said,
“But normally when a problem arises, if it does not irritate a person psychologically, it does not count or is useless and cannot make him or her improve.” (Lecture Four, Zhuan Falun)
Yes, isn’t this an opportunity for me to improve my character? I need to look forward and focus on doing better in the future. During the final days of this term, I collaborated with my colleagues to smoothly complete all our tasks.
Although my emotions settled significantly over the two-month summer break, as the new school year approached, feelings of unfairness and resentment still occasionally surface, disrupting my peace and bringing on waves of negative thoughts. I struggled with self-doubt about my capabilities and harbored resentment toward my work environment.
Around this time, my fellow practitioners in the village held a small experience-sharing conference, and I was tasked with collecting articles. An elderly female practitioner handed me her printed article and an additional page of handwritten notes. Her purity and kindness moved us all to tears several times as she read.
Her story was simple: during a water shortage, when her house was the first in the area to have water restored, she invited her neighbors over three times to get water from her home for free. Although seemingly a small act, her sincerity moved me deeply, bringing tears to my eyes every time I thought about it. Her pure and compassionate heart, nurtured through Dafa, touched me. I felt ashamed of my self-centered thoughts. I realized I should learn from her example—to genuinely help others without thinking about myself.
Didn’t my lack of kindness toward my students and their parents cause my tribulation? In addition, my leaders hadn’t pressured me; instead they offered support and encouragement. This helped me view my work environment from a different perspective—while our work can be challenging, my colleagues are compassionate and kind. I, too, should approach everyone around me with kindness.
At that moment, I felt my heart was cleansed, and the negative emotions vanished, leaving me with an indescribable sense of calm and joy. As I revisited this experience while writing this article, I felt no resentment, no anger, only a sincere desire to do my work earnestly and treat my students and their parents with the utmost kindness.
Thank you, compassionate Master and my fellow practitioners, for guiding me out of this tribulation and freeing me from resentment!