作者：漠北孤侠
我的五月三十五日天安门广场的血和母亲们的泪依旧未干维园的烛光和自由女神像前的标语 依然斑驳 任谁秀口一吐整个盛唐 尽毁 但我不 我偏诗行孤岛角落
视频中被老师塞到角落里的孩子孤苦伶仃的坐着，当班里其他所有同学都兴奋地举起手中六一节学校送的礼物时，我的心一阵阵剧烈抽搐，整个人崩溃。
这分明是我的孩子一一当年我刚刚青春期高中一年级的孩子，就是这样被班主任朱老师塞到挨着圾圾柜的角落座位里；而且其他所有同学都有“同桌的你”，就他一个人。该老师还组织全班同学尤其是坐在孩子周围前后左右的四个女同学欺凌孩子。孩子做好作业交给四个组长都被拒收、作业都交不上去。
孩子拼命展视自己的优秀和对班级荣誉的维护以换取同学们的认可。校运会勇敢参与比赛项目，没有一位同学围观，更无一人喝彩，须知他平时连最简单的运动和动作都做不来。
孩子到今天尚留下极重心理隐患，怕别人负面评价、怕别人拒绝，形成了极度的讨好型人格，至今不敢接触女生。
这视频也再次重击了我心里的旧伤，40多年了！我少年时遭遇的校长儿子带领全班同学霸凌我、甚至成年了还变着法子欺侮我的往事,翻江倒海般翻腾出来。
初中一年级时年幼小、身体更孱弱，无法适应远离父母一人独立读书、生活，被迫放弃当时所谓的地区重点学校尖子班学位，回到我一天没上过的家乡小学。从上学第一天开始全班同学以侮辱的外号称我,连自小村子里一起长大的玩伴也孤立我。我当时百思不得其解，整天笼罩在恐惧中，只能用拼命的学习来躲避同学们异样的眼光和闲言碎语，用考试成绩的优秀来证明自己。直到最近些年或许年岁渐大，年少时的往事不知不觉的会在脑海里回放，也找不出当年班上的同学集体一致的霸凌我的原因。只是透过回忆追溯才有所发现，成年后直至几年前，同班同学以当年那几位带头和组织霸凌我的，仍组织班上同学搞“统一战线”孤立、排挤和欺辱我，一个例证就是10年前原初一班同学30周年同学会刻意不通知我。原因无他，就是我一直比他们优秀！
此时我心如刀绞，为视频中孩子、为我的孩子、为我自己，为当下千千万万曝光和未曝光出来的被霸凌的孩子与家庭。
前后跨越40年三代人，不变的霸凌与欺辱！我不会是孤例！
40年过去了，这土地一丝也没有改良，千年盐碱依旧，甚至酱缸味更浓，芸芸韭菜己经被压榨一次又一次,血泪干枯。 此刻窗外,阴雨连绵，一个多小时后又是五月三十五日了,何日是尽头？！
2026年5月35日于东山下烟雨小木屋
编辑：李晶
校对：王滨
翻译：戈冰
My May 35th
Author: Mobei Guxia (The Lonely Knight of Mobei)
My May 35th,
The blood on Tiananmen Square and the tears of the mothers
Have still not dried.
The candlelight in Victoria Park and the slogans before the Goddess of Democracy
Remain mottled and faded.
No matter who opens their elegant mouth to spit a word,
The entire High Tang Dynasty is utterly destroyed.
But not I. I choose instead to anchor my lines of poetry in the corner of an isolated island.
In the video, the child, shoved into a corner by the teacher, sits all alone. As all the other classmates in the room excitedly raise the Children’s Day gifts given by the school, my heart convulses in violent waves of pain, and I break down completely.
This is clearly my own child—my child years ago, who had just entered adolescence in the first year of high school, and was shoved exactly like this by the homeroom teacher, Teacher Zhu, into a corner seat right next to the trash bin. What’s more, every other student had a “desk-mate of their own,” while he was left entirely alone.
This teacher even organized the entire class, especially the four female students sitting directly around him—in front, behind, to his left, and to his right—to bully the child. When the child finished his homework and tried to hand it to the four group leaders, it was rejected every time; he could not even submit his schoolwork.
The child desperately tried to display his excellence and his defense of the class’s honor in exchange for his classmates’ recognition.
He bravely took part in events during the school sports meet, yet not a single classmate came to watch, let alone cheer for him—even though, ordinarily, he could not even manage the simplest sports or physical movements.
To this day, the child is left with severe psychological trauma: he fears negative evaluations from others, dreads rejection, has developed an extreme people-pleasing personality, and still does not dare to interact with girls.
This video has once again struck the old wounds in my heart—it has been over 40 years! The past, where the principal’s son led the entire class to bully me during my youth, and even found twisted ways to humiliate me into my adulthood, has come roaring back like churning, tempestuous seas.
During my first year of junior high, I was young and physically weak. Unable to adapt to living and studying independently far away from my parents, I was forced to give up my spot in the elite class of a so-called regional key school, and return to my hometown’s primary school—a place I had never attended for a single day.
From my very first day of school, the entire class called me by insulting nicknames, and even the childhood playmates I grew up with in the village isolated me.
At the time, no matter how hard I thought, I could not understand why. Enveloped in fear all day long, I could only study frantically to escape my classmates’ strange stares and gossiping tongues, using my excellent exam scores to prove my worth.
Only in recent years, perhaps as I grow older, the events of my youth have begun to replay involuntarily in my mind, yet I still cannot find the reason why the classmates back then collectively and unanimously bullied me.
It is only by tracing back through my memories that I discovered something: into adulthood and up until a few years ago, those same former classmates who took the lead in organizing the bullying still organized the class to form a “United Front” to isolate, ostracize, and humiliate me. A clear example of this is that ten years ago, during the 30th anniversary reunion of our original first-year junior high class, they deliberately chose not to notify me. The reason was none other than this: I have always been more excellent than them!
At this moment, my heart feels as if it is being pierced by knives—for the child in the video, for my own child, for myself, and for the thousands upon thousands of bullied children and families today, both those who have been brought to light and those who remain unseen.
Spanning 40 years across three generations, the bullying and humiliation remain unchanged! I am surely not an isolated case!
Forty years have passed, and this land has not improved in the slightest. The millennium-old saline-alkali soil remains as it was, and the stench of the culture’s soy sauce vat has grown even thicker. The masses of “leeks” have been squeezed and harvested time and time again, until their blood and tears have run dry.
At this moment outside my window, the gloomy rain falls incessantly. In a little over an hour, it will once again be May 35th. When will this ever end?!
May 35th, 2026, in a misty and rainy small wooden cabin at the foot of the Eastern Mountain.
Editor: Li Jing
Proofreader: Wang Bin
Translator: Ge Bing
