This Week’s Sharing Topic

“Departing from Feixiang Pass: My Story of Growth”

Transcript of Principal Peter’s Interview

On Monday morning, there was a flag-raising ceremony.

This time, the format was a bit different from usual—students Kevin and Aster stepped up to the podium and, in an interview-style conversation, discussed Principal Peter’s personal journey. The three of them took turns asking and answering questions, and the audience listened in quiet attention.

Principal Peter began by recounting the place where he grew up, sharing stories of his childhood games and the people he encountered along his educational journey. These three anecdotes wove together a narrative of personal growth.

The following is a transcript of the interview.

Q: What would you like to share with everyone today?

Principal Peter said that today he would like to share three stories of personal growth: one about the environment in which we grow, one about the games of childhood, and one about the people we encounter along the path of learning.

Three stories—really, they’re one journey of growth. Where you come from determines how far you can go.

Q: What was your childhood home like?

I’m from Ya’an, Sichuan—specifically, a place called Feixiang Pass.

It lies along National Highway 318, marking the first major pass on the Sichuan–Tibet Highway. Flanked by towering mountains and bisected by a river that flows eastward, the Qingyi River makes a sharp bend here, cradled by ranges on either bank and shrouded in mist and clouds, its terrain exceptionally rugged. For me as a child, crossing the mountain ahead was the very horizon of my imagination.

Before I turned 18, I had never left that valley.

Q: What is daily life like at Feixian Pass?

It’s just an ancient town. A main street weaves through dozens of homes, with cobblestone paths, old wooden houses, and red lanterns. Every alley has its own name, and each stone slab has been polished to a gleam by the footsteps of more than a dozen generations.

On my way home from school, I have to pass through three narrow alleys, brushing past the old teahouse, the blacksmith’s shop, and a little stall selling cold chicken salad. On rainy days, the stone-paved path becomes especially slick, and I’ve stumbled many times—but I’ve never once felt that road was long, for at its end lies home.

No matter how far we go, the stone-paved paths of our hometown will always lie beneath our feet.

Q: What did you play when you were little?

Back then, there were no cell phones and no internet. But happiness was actually very simple.

We had two games we could play over and over without getting bored. One was “positional warfare”—throwing stones. After school, the village kids would split into two teams, each claiming a mound on either side of the hill as their position, and take turns hurling stones at one another. Whoever got hit first was out; they wouldn’t head home until it was dark. Looking back now, it seems pretty dangerous, but that was our most rudimentary form of “teamwork” and “tactical command.”

Another one is Tetris My roommate had a black-and-white Game Boy, and we took turns playing in the dorm—until the battery died. The blocks fell faster and faster, demanding both quick reflexes and sharp thinking. It taught me one thing: to spot patterns amid chaos and make decisions under pressure.

Happiness doesn’t require expensive toys; it calls for companions, imagination, and heartfelt engagement.

Q: On your academic journey, have there been any teachers who had a significant impact on you?

Yes, there is more than one.

My elementary school homeroom teacher was the first person to believe in me. The village school was poorly equipped, and many children dropped out after finishing primary school. The way he carried his books and walked past our house again and again—those were, in my eyes, the most handsome figures in the world. He was the first to trust that I could step beyond the mountains.

My junior high school English teacher opened a window for me. He made my imagination of the world beyond tangible—beyond the valley lay a wider world, one worth venturing into.

My beloved high school teacher was both my mentor and a friend who guided me along the way. Just before the college entrance exam, I even considered giving up—until he sat down with me for an entire afternoon. He said one sentence that I’ve never forgotten: “You’re not leaving here to get away; you’re leaving so you’ll have the strength to choose to come back.”

Written at the end

After the three stories were told, the audience fell silent for a few seconds.

The last words Principal Peter said were: “Where you come from determines how far you can go.”

The interview at that day’s flag-raising ceremony was brief, but afterward, many people gained a fresh understanding of Peter. The stories he shared—cobblestone streets, throwing stones, Tetris, and a teacher who was both mentor and friend—may seem far removed from the lives of today’s high school students, yet the emotions they evoke feel strikingly familiar: growing up in a particular place, meeting certain people, and gradually becoming who you are today.

Zhuhai Yinghua International Curriculum Program
September 14, 2026